Lena had always wondered what kind of monster Lucian truly was.
Not the polite, infuriatingly smug man who tormented her with his presence.
Not the prince who ruled the Underworld with terrifying ease.
But the real Lucian.
The one that lurked beneath the surface.
She never thought she would get the answer like this.
---
A World of Shadows
The Underworld was silent.
The air was thick with something old, something that seeped into Lena's bones.
She sat in the dimly lit study, her fingers trailing absentmindedly over the cover of a book she hadn't even opened. The room was massive, lined with shelves filled with ancient tomes and forbidden knowledge.
Lucian sat across from her, golden eyes reflecting the candlelight.
For once, he wasn't smirking.
For once, he wasn't toying with her.
"You want to know about my past," he murmured.
It wasn't a question.
Lena hesitated, watching him carefully. "I think I deserve to know who I made a deal with."
Lucian chuckled, but there was no amusement in it.
"Do you, now?"
Lena didn't blink. "Yes."
A long silence stretched between them.
Then, finally—Lucian leaned back, exhaling slowly.
"You know who my father is," he said. "But you don't know what that means."
Lena frowned.
Lucian's voice was quieter when he spoke again.
"Being the son of the Devil isn't a title. It's a curse."
She swallowed. "Why?"
Lucian's gaze darkened.
"Because I was never supposed to exist."
Lena's breath hitched.
---
Born of Sin
Lucian's fingers trailed idly against the wooden table, his expression unreadable.
"My father is eternal," he murmured. "A being of pure power, pure destruction. He is not human. He does not create—he only takes."
Lena shivered at the way his voice turned hollow.
"And yet," Lucian continued, "he tried to create me."
Lena frowned. "Tried?"
Lucian smirked. "Let me tell you a secret, Lena. My father has had many lovers. Demons, witches, mortals who willingly gave their souls for power. But none of them—not a single one—could carry his blood."
Lena's throat tightened.
"Then… how were you—?"
Lucian's golden eyes gleamed. "I was an experiment."
Lena's stomach churned.
"My father went through countless attempts before me," Lucian continued. "Women who carried his child… only to watch them burn from the inside out."
Lena gasped.
Lucian tilted his head slightly, watching her reaction. "Does that scare you?"
Lena's breath was shaky. "I just—" She exhaled sharply. "I didn't expect that."
Lucian chuckled softly. "Neither did my mother."
Lena stilled.
His mother.
He had never mentioned her before.
"What happened to her?"
Lucian's smirk faded.
For a long moment, he didn't speak.
Then—
"My mother was a witch," he said quietly. "One of the most powerful to ever live. She was the first to survive my father's mark."
Lena's fingers curled against her lap.
Lucian's voice turned distant. "She thought she could control him. Thought that by bearing his child, she would gain his power."
Lena swallowed. "And did she?"
Lucian's golden eyes flickered with something unreadable.
"For a time," he murmured. "But the Devil does not share his throne. And my mother—" He smirked coldly. "She forgot her place."
Lena shivered.
"What did he do to her?"
Lucian's jaw tensed. "He destroyed her."
Lena's stomach twisted.
"But not before she left a curse in my veins," Lucian continued.
Lena frowned. "Curse?"
Lucian's golden gaze met hers.
"My father is an immortal being," he said. "I am not."
Lena's breath caught.
Lucian leaned forward slightly, his expression unreadable.
"My mother ensured that I was born with limits," he murmured. "That I could feel pain. That I could bleed. That I could be killed."
Lena's heart pounded.
It was the first time Lucian had ever admitted to being vulnerable.
The idea of him—the Devil's Son—being killable felt unreal.
And yet, the way he said it, the bitterness in his voice…
It was true.
Lena's voice was barely above a whisper. "Does your father hate you for it?"
Lucian chuckled darkly. "Hate me?" He tilted his head. "He sees me as nothing more than a tool. A weapon to wield. A pawn."
Lena exhaled sharply. "That's why you don't trust him."
Lucian smirked. "Darling, I don't trust anyone."
Lena clenched her fists.
She should have been relieved to hear that.
She should have felt vindicated knowing Lucian wasn't the untouchable monster she thought he was.
But instead—
Instead, she felt something else.
Something she wasn't ready to name.
Lucian studied her carefully. "You pity me."
Lena's breath hitched. "I—"
"Don't," he interrupted smoothly. "I don't need your sympathy, Lena."
Her stomach twisted. "I don't pity you," she said.
Lucian's smirk was slow, but his eyes remained dark. "Then what do you feel?"
Lena opened her mouth—then hesitated.
She didn't know.
And that terrified her more than anything.
--
A Bond Neither of Them Wanted
Lucian stood, moving toward her.
His golden eyes gleamed as he reached for her wrist, fingers grazing the mark that bound them together.
"This bond," he murmured, "was never meant to exist."
Lena shivered at his touch.
"And yet," Lucian whispered, "here we are."
Her breath came unevenly.
Lucian's fingers curled against her wrist, his warmth sinking into her skin.
"You think you can still leave me, Lena?" he asked, voice dangerously soft.
Her heart pounded.
"You think you can escape me?"
Lena swallowed hard.
She wanted to say yes.
She wanted to t
ell him she would find a way.
But when she met his gaze, something deep inside her told her the truth.
She couldn't.
Because she wasn't just bound to him by the mark.
She was bound to him by something much worse.
Fate.