They bolted through the woods, his hand tightly wrapped around her wrist as he pulled her along. Branches clawed at her skin, scratching like tiny, sharp talons, but she didn't stop running—and neither did her savior.
She stole a glance at him. His eyes were fixed on the path ahead, expertly navigating them through the dense thicket of trees.
So many questions burned inside her.
Who was he? Why did he save me? Who sent him?
But now wasn't the time. They had to get as far away from the coven as possible.
Still, she made a mental note of her surroundings. If he tried anything strange, she needed to know how to escape.
"Over here!" he called, yanking her toward the gaping mouth of a dark cave.
They stumbled inside, and the world dimmed. Darkness swallowed them whole. Her body trembled from exhaustion, her knees buckling as she crouched down, struggling to catch her breath.
"Do you want to get us caught?" he snapped, his dulcet voice echoing through the cave.
She didn't answer. The shadows pressed in from all sides, thick and suffocating.
He struck a stick against the cave wall. Sparks flew, and a small flame flared to life, casting flickering light over the rough stone.
"Here." He tossed her a stick.
She mimicked his actions. After a few tries, her stick caught fire, casting a warm, faint glow in the darkness between them.
When the light came on, she got a glimpse of his face. His green orbs glimmered in the flickering light of the torch, and his brown curly hair fell delicately over his forehead. His jawline was perfectly chiseled. Long, beautiful lashes flickered every time he blinked. He was handsome.
"Come with me—" he ordered again, cutting through her thoughts as he made his way deeper into the cave. She hesitantly followed, her eyes dancing across the cavernous space as she observed the scribbles and drawings on the wall. The cave seemed ancient—she couldn't quite understand the language etched into the stone.
"Where are we going?" she asked suddenly, breaking the daunting silence.
"Rokocove," he replied shortly, without sparing her a glance.
"Why did you save me?" she inquired, her curiosity piqued. Her mind raced with thoughts—most of them dark and wary.
"Is that your way of saying thank you?" he asked. She shook her head, but when she realized he wasn't looking at her, she spoke aloud. "No, I'm just asking why you saved me. I don't even know you."
He turned to the left, ignoring her question, which made her angry. "Didn't I ask you something?"
He faced her with a frown. "Can you shut up and let me think? I'm trying to get us out of here, and you keep getting on my nerves." He snapped, and she clasped her lips shut, not expecting his outburst.
Lila growled inside her, her eyes filled with fire and a hunger to rip this man to pieces. But Seraph could tell—he wasn't any ordinary man. There was something about him, an aura he exuded that she couldn't quite understand.
They reached the end of the cave, and he pressed his palm against the wall, sliding the boulder out of the way. She looked at him in awe. How did he do that? That rock seemed like it weighed a ton. It made her wonder just how strong he actually was.
"Are you going to just stare, or are you going to walk through?" he asked, snapping her out of her train of thought. With a glare, she walked through, and he closed the secret door behind them.
"Stick."
"Mm?"
"I said stick."
Damn, this guy was rude—and it infuriated Lila, which made it very difficult to contain her.
She handed him her stick, and he tossed it to the ground, smothering the flame with his foot. Then he turned to her. "What do you want to ask?"
So now he wants to listen? she thought with a scoff.
"Why did you save me?" she asked again, arms crossed over her chest.
"Because I wanted to… and?" he replied. His nonchalance was irritating her.
What does he mean, "because I wanted to"? she thought.
"What do you mean by that?"
"Must I have a reason to save you? Aren't you at least grateful someone did?" he asked, raising a brow as he walked past her.
She rolled her eyes. Of course she was grateful—but she wasn't about to admit that to this jerk.
"Your name?" she demanded, trailing behind him as she tried to catch up.
"Sebastian."
"Where are we going?"
"Rokocove. I told you, didn't I?"
What was with him and his short, clipped responses? Couldn't he at least say something nicely instead of these cold, straightforward answers? Men in this world were all rude to women, except for one she knew—but he was gone now.
"Can't you at least be polite? You're speaking to a woman. At least try to seem like you're interested in the conversation."
He faced her with a forced smile. "What do you want?"
"To be treated nicely, like the woman I am," she said in a demanding tone.
He bowed mockingly. "I'm sorry, princess, for not meeting your standards. Now can you shut up and come with me?" he ordered, and Seraph fell silent.
She hated being treated this way. Being told what to do. Fuck, it annoyed her—but she kept her cool. He saved her, so this was her way of being thankful—by keeping quiet for the rest of the journey.
After walking for a while, they reached a small village. It was already afternoon. She was exhausted but kept walking anyway. She barely held back the urge to ask again where they were going.
As they walked through the dreaded pathway, the villagers stared at them—or rather, at her—intrigued by her beauty. They had never seen her before. She felt their gazes but ignored them, too tired to speak.
They reached a hut at the end of the village, and Sebastian pulled the door open. She walked in.
She saw a woman lying in bed, her forehead covered with a damp cloth, her eyes tightly shut.
Sebastian walked to her and gazed down at her sleeping form softly. A girl walked in from what Seraph assumed was a kitchen, and when she saw Sebastian, she squealed and embraced him warmly. He hugged her back, and Seraph could see how much she had missed him.
The scene of the two embracing made her feel a bit jealous. She didn't have anyone to hold her anymore. No one to protect her from the storm or cold. The only person she had was her mother—and now she was gone. She couldn't ignore the pain tugging at her heart.
They broke the hug, and the girl smacked him across the head, making him flinch in surprise.
"What's wrong with you, Amiee?" he groaned, rubbing the spot she'd hit.
"I told you to bring the girl, and you ended up sleeping there!" she snapped, her anger a sharp contrast to her earlier happiness. Seraph barely contained her laugh.
"I'm sorry, but I didn't want to scare her," he apologized.
"She's a freaking demon like you. You could've just used your powers and teleported her—"
It was then Seraph stopped laughing. How did she know she was a demon? She never mentioned it—nor had she told Sebastian.
"How do you know I'm a demon?" she asked, her senses heightening. For all she knew, these people could want to kill her—and she wouldn't let that happen.
Amiee faced her with a smile. "Hi, I'm Amiee. I'm a seer," she introduced, and Seraph calmed slightly.
"Seraph," she replied.
"I know."
How does this girl know so much about me?
"What do you want from me? Why did your brother save me? What's going on?" she demanded.
Amiee closed the distance between them. "Calm down. I'll answer everything. But please… can you tell Lila to calm down too?"
She even knew who Lila was. That was another level of creepy.
Sebastian ignored the two and walked to his mother, rubbing her palms as he stared at her. His gaze was tender. One wouldn't have thought this was the same cold guy from earlier.
"Centuries ago, a curse was placed on the demon race…"
"So it's a story?" Seraph interrupted, and the girl shot her a cold glare. Her aura matched Sebastian's, making Seraph clasp her lips shut. These siblings had a way of shutting her up.
"And the curse kills the demon slowly from the inside, weakening their powers," Amiee explained.
Seraph raised her brows. "What does that have to do with me?"
"You're a demon. Of course it concerns you. Or do you want to die? Do you want the entire demon race wiped out?"
Seraph remained silent, her words hanging heavily in the air.
"My mother is in the third stage of the curse—the illness stage. She has one stage left." Seraph saw her gaze soften.
"Please. I need your help to get the cure."
"What do you mean my help? Why don't you do it yourself—"
"Because I can't! I would've saved my mother if I could!" she snapped, her voice breaking with pain.
A pain Seraph was all too familiar with. She had already lost her mother. She couldn't help but feel pity for Amiee.
"But how do I do that?" Seraph asked, calming herself down.
Sebastian finally spoke up. "We need the blood of the Vampire King, along with a few other things. We've already gathered everything else. The blood is the last ingredient, and only you can make the potion that will save us all."
Wait—hold up. What did they mean by only her?
"Why must it be me? I can barely keep myself alive, and now I'm going to save the demons??"
This made no sense. How could she—a mistake, an outcast—be the only way to stop a curse?
"Because you're the chosen one," Amiee said.
And Seraph burst out laughing.
She couldn't be serious…
Could she?