Lena's apartment felt different when she returned.
Everything was as she had left it—the small couch with its worn-out cushions, the creaky wooden floors, the faint scent of coffee lingering from the morning. It should have felt like home. Safe. Familiar.
But it didn't.
The moment she stepped inside, a strange heaviness settled over her. The air was thick, charged with something unseen, something unnatural.
Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag as she shut the door behind her, locking it out of instinct. As if a locked door could keep out the Devil's son.
She released a shaky breath, then turned toward the small bedroom down the hall.
Caleb.
Her stomach twisted with nerves. Had the deal worked? Was he… okay?
She stepped forward, pausing at his bedroom door. It was slightly ajar, the dim glow of a bedside lamp spilling into the hallway.
She pushed it open quietly.
Caleb lay on his bed, his face peaceful, his breathing steady.
Different.
Lena's heart clenched. Just hours ago, he had been weak, barely clinging to life. His skin had been pale, his lips dry and cracked. The machines at the hospital had been the only thing keeping him alive.
But now—his color had returned.
His chest rose and fell in smooth, even breaths. His hands, once frail and thin, looked stronger. Healthier.
Tears blurred her vision.
It had worked.
He was alive.
Relief crashed over her like a wave, so intense that her knees nearly buckled.
She reached out, hesitantly brushing a hand over his forehead. Warm. Not feverish, but alive.
A soft sigh escaped his lips as his eyes fluttered open.
Lena's breath hitched.
"Lena?" His voice was groggy, confused. "What… what are you doing here?"
She swallowed hard, forcing a smile. "I—" Her voice caught. "I wanted to check on you."
Caleb frowned, sitting up slightly. "I feel… different." He glanced at his hands, flexing them. "Stronger. Like I—" He paused, his gaze shifting to her. "Lena, what happened?"
She hesitated. How could she tell him? How could she tell him that she had sold her soul to save him?
"You're okay now," she said softly, brushing a strand of hair from his face. "That's all that matters."
Caleb frowned but didn't push further. Not yet.
Lena forced herself to stay for a few minutes longer, just until she was sure he was stable. But the weight pressing down on her chest only grew heavier.
She needed air.
Needed space.
She made her way back to the living room, pressing a hand to her forehead.
But the moment she took a deep breath, a sharp sting shot through her wrist.
She gasped, jerking her hand away from her face.
The mark.
It burned, as if something unseen was pressing into it. She looked down, eyes widening as the dark, intricate symbol pulsed beneath her skin.
Then—a voice.
Smooth. Dark. Amused.
"Did you think you would walk away unchanged?"
Lena spun around.
And there he was.
The Devil's son.
Standing in her apartment.
No door had opened. No shadows had shifted. He was simply there, leaning casually against the wall, watching her with those molten-gold eyes.
Lena's breath caught. "What—how—"
His lips curled into a slow, knowing smirk. "Your soul is bound to me now, Lena." He took a step forward, the dim light catching the sharp angles of his face. "Did you think I would simply leave you alone?"
Her pulse pounded. "That wasn't part of the deal."
His expression darkened, the amusement in his gaze replaced by something more intense. "Wasn't it?"
The mark on her wrist pulsed again, and this time, Lena felt it—something tethering her to him. A connection that hadn't been there before.
Her stomach twisted. "What did you do to me?"
He tilted his head, as if considering his words. "I claimed what is mine."
The room felt smaller. The air grew warmer, suffocating.
"I don't belong to you," she snapped, trying to steady her voice.
The Devil's son took another step forward, closing the distance between them in an instant.
"You do," he said softly, but there was no mistaking the weight behind his words. "The moment you signed that contract, you became mine, in life and beyond."
Lena's breath came in shallow gasps. "I did what you wanted. I gave you my soul. What more do you want?"
His golden eyes gleamed. "Everything."
A shiver ran down her spine.
He reached out, brushing his fingers lightly against her wrist where the mark pulsed. The second his skin met hers, a jolt of heat shot through her.
Her body locked in place.
She gasped, trying to jerk away, but the sensation spread—warmth, power—seeping into her very bones.
Her knees nearly buckled, and he caught her easily, his grip firm but effortless.
"Shhh," he murmured. "You're feeling it now, aren't you? The bond."
Lena clenched her teeth. "Let go."
His fingers lingered for a moment longer before he released her.
Lena stumbled back, pressing herself against the wall as she tried to catch her breath.
Her heart was pounding too fast, her skin too warm.
"What's happening to me?" she whispered.
He watched her for a long moment. "You are bound to me now," he said simply. "You will feel me, even when I am not near. My presence will linger in your thoughts, in your body, in your very soul."
Lena's stomach twisted. "No."
His smirk returned. "Yes."
She shook her head. "You can't just—"
"But I can." His voice was calm, but beneath it was an unshakable certainty. "You gave yourself to me, Lena. There is no undoing it."
Tears burned behind her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
"I saved Caleb," she whispered, her voice breaking. "That's all I wanted."
The Devil's son stepped closer again, and this time, he tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze.
"Yes," he murmured. "And in return, you gave yourself to something far darker than you understand."
Lena swallowed hard.
There was no going back.
She
had made her choice.
And now, she would have to live with it.
Bound by darkness.