All she could see was fire and smoke. Her breath caught as the suffocating musk of debris coiled into her nostrils. Harsh coughs rattled from her dry throat as the thick, dark smoke engulfed her—choking her.
She could feel the flames inching toward her. Her lungs ached, clogged and burning from the lack of oxygen. Her throat scratched with desperate thirst.
Where was she?
The only person she could think of at that moment was Lila. Lila would know what happened—how she ended up here.
"Lila… Lila." She called, her voice raspy and fragile, but silence answered her.
Something was wrong. Lila had never ignored her before.
"Lila?"
"Lila!" she cried again, her voice rising with panic—still met with cold, echoing silence. Her heart pounded in her chest, wild and terrified. What had happened to her?
She forced her eyes open—and saw fire curling around her. There was no way in, and no way out.
She tried to scream for help, but her voice was swallowed by the hungry crackle of flames. The sound was haunting, unnatural—it sent shivers down her spine.
The fire touched her ankle first, a burning kiss of agony. The pain sent her stumbling backward, her scream lost in the inferno.
She scrambled away as the flames closed in on her, threatening to consume everything in their path. She squeezed her eyes shut, silently pleading to the gods for mercy. Even though part of her longed for death… she didn't want to die—not yet.
Her eyes flew open.
It was a dream.
Her heart thundered—loud and violent, the sound filling her ears. She reached for her ankle, the one the flames had burned—but saw nothing. Her skin was untouched, smooth, unscathed. No sign of the fire at all.
But she felt it. The pain. It was real. How could a dream feel so terrifyingly real?
She exhaled sharply and clutched her chest, trying to still her racing heart. Her hands trembled as the memory of the fire licked her mind. Her eyes darted around the room, searching for clues. Where was she? How did she get here?
An old bench with foam spilling from its cracks. Walls smeared with dried blood and etched with Roman numerals in bright chalk. A small window in the corner with rusted bars, the morning sun straining through it. A dusty bed sagging beneath cobwebbed sheets, held up by rusted chains.
A prison cell.
How did she get here?
She remembered Caroline. Caroline and her coven dragging her away. And Lila… Lila had come to fight for her.
"Lila," she gasped.
A soft murmur stirred inside her. Lila's pulse thrummed in her ears. She drew a shaky breath.
"I thought I'd lost you," she whispered, her voice trembling.
"Even at the brink of death, I'll always be there for you," Lila replied, her voice soft—warm. It wrapped around Seraph's aching heart like a bandage. At least someone still cared. That was enough to remind her she had to survive—if not for herself, then for revenge.
She dragged herself to the bed and sat down, shifting restlessly. It was stiff and unforgiving. She couldn't imagine anyone actually sleeping on it—if they ever made it through the night. Calling it a bed felt like a cruel joke.
But the bed wasn't her concern.
She needed to escape. Fast.
Her mind raced through possibilities, but every path ended in disaster—capture, or death. It was only a matter of time before they came for her.
Footsteps echoed in the hallway, accompanied by low laughter and murmurs. Seraph shut her eyes, feigning sleep, hoping they'd pass her by.
Of course not.
She was Seraph—the outcast. The demon who dared live among witches.
The footsteps grew louder until they stopped at her cell. Swords clanged against the door, jolting her from her fake slumber.
A key slid into the lock. The door creaked open. Two guards stormed in and grabbed her roughly by the arms.
She struggled, but their grip only tightened. Then she did the only logical thing—she bit one. Hard. Her sharp teeth sank into his skin. The second guard groaned as she kicked him in the groin.
"Stop her!" the first one roared, doubling over in pain. The second guard stumbled after her, enraged.
She bolted.
Her footsteps echoed through the stone halls, her hair flying in the wind. Her heart hammered with adrenaline. She didn't dare look back—she just ran.
A door appeared ahead. A glimmer of hope sparked in her chest. Maybe—just maybe—she could survive this.
She reached the door, her hand brushing the handle—then pain exploded in her gut. Someone has punched her. A metallic taste coated her tongue. Her vision spun from hunger, exhaustion, and now… pain.
"Got you." The man sneered, pride dripping from his voice as he slung her over his shoulder like a sack of grain.
The other guards caught up, their faces flushed with relief. They knew what the queen mother would do to them if the prisoner escaped.
The one she'd kicked approached, his expression twisted with rage. He raised a hand and slapped her. Hard.
Her lip split open, blood flooding her mouth. Shame, fury, and helplessness rose like bile in her throat—but she didn't cry.
"That's what you get, scumbag," he growled.
Yes, she was an outcast—but she was still a woman. Couldn't they show even a shred of dignity?
They dragged her to the courtyard where the executioner stood waiting, a wicked grin curled on his lips. At last—he would spill blood again.
Crowds lined the path to the platform, their eyes full of pity. Seraph was one of them once. A woman. Just… different.
But no one could save her now. Not when the queen mother herself had ordered her death.
They reached the raised platform—weathered wood stained with old blood, termites gnawing at the base. A monument of death.
They threw her down. Her body slammed into the wooden floor, the impact knocking the air from her lungs. Dust filled her nose, stinging and suffocating her.
"We should fight. We can't let them win, Seraph!" Lila's voice barked inside her, fierce and desperate.
Seraph exhaled, a dry sound of resignation. "We can't. We're surrounded. And if I let you fight... I might lose you. And I'd rather die with you than live without you."
Lila quieted. She understood.
"I'm sorry I couldn't protect you, master," Lila murmured.
Seraph smiled faintly. "You did your best, Lila. I loved having you as my demon."
They bound her in thick, knotted rope, leaving only her head free. They forced it downward. A cold blade kissed her neck, and blood trickled down her skin.
Tears welled in her eyes.
This was it.
This was how Seraphina Ashbourne would die.
Never had she imagined her end like this—bound and broken in front of the very creatures she had grown to despise.
She closed her eyes, bracing for the swing of the blade. The executioner raised his axe, poised to sever her head.
Then—smoke.
Thick, blinding clouds exploded into the air, shrouding everything.
Her eyes widened. Normally, smoke would sting, but she could see through it perfectly. What kind of smoke was this?
The executioner was shoved off the platform by someone she didn't recognize. A stranger darted to her side, fingers working fast to untie the ropes.
"Let's get out of here!" he said.
She didn't hesitate.
She ran—alongside her savior.