deia fell silent for a mont, replaying Lucian’s words in her mind. After thinking it over, she realized she had never shared anything about her past with him.
It wasn’t just because she couldn’t—it was because she didn’t want to.
She despised her past more than anything and considered her forr existence a disgrace, sothing best left forgotten.
Yet, deep down, she was also afraid. Afraid that Lucian wouldn’t accept her true identity.
But how long would she keep running from this?
How much ti would she need before she could truly believe that Lucian wouldn’t abandon her if he knew she was a demon?
He had already seen her transform, seen the monstrous side of her, yet he still stayed. So maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t leave this ti either.
"I was not human," deia finally spoke. "I was ..." She hesitated, biting her lower lip as doubt crept in.
Just take a deep breath. Maybe the terrible things she feared wouldn’t happen. Maybe they only existed in her overthinking mind.
"I was a demon."
She paused, searching Lucian’s face for a reaction, but he remained quiet. His expression was unreadable, and she had no idea what he was thinking.
"Not just any demon," she continued, voice steadier now. "I was a Queen of Hell. I’m not sure how demons and gods are perceived in your world, but I think our worlds aren’t that different."
She had once accidentally read a scripture brought by Sister Jeanne, and from what she saw, the concept of God and supernatural beings in this world wasn’t so different from hers. Essentially, they were the sa—just with different nas.
But still, humans always saw them as re supernatural beings—sothing caught between reality and imagination.
What if Lucian thought she was just insane?
No, he had thought she was insane from the very beginning, yet he still chose to stay by her side.
Maybe he was the insane one.
"All my life... was filled with hatred for humanity, anger, lust, and violence."
The more deia spoke, the more she wanted to sew her mouth shut.
Why was she giving him so much information? She hated humanity? Then, what about him? He was a fucking human, you moron.
And anger, lust, and violence? Wasn’t that basically telling Lucian she was so kind of brute whore who solved everything with bloodshed? Or worse—a reckless fool who indulged in all the wrong things?
Oh, please, just stop talking.
"Like I said, my past life wasn’t exactly great." deia forced a smile, trying to mask the unease creeping up her spine. "Even my marriage was literally the definition of hell."
Wait. Why was she talking about her marriage?!
Now she had to tell him about that jerk!
"My husband was a complete jerk. Like, a real piece of shit." She tried to cover her nerves with a joke. "You know those movies where so poor woman gets stuck in a toxic marriage? The kind where her husband abuses her, treats her like trash, and all she does is cry?"
"Well, that was . Except I didn’t cry." deia let out a soft, bitter laugh. "I fought back. But since he was stronger than , well ... that didn’t really an much."
Lucian clenched his fists. His jaw tightened as if he was holding himself back from punching sothing—or soone.
"Did he hurt you?" He asked, his voice trembled slightly. "In your hallucination ... did he hurt you?"
Hurt ? Oh, dear, it was more than just hurt.
deia forced out a chuckle, but it ca out hollow. "He ... touched in ways I didn’t want," she said, "But since he was my husband, technically, it wasn’t a bad thing, right?" Her lips trembled slightly, but the smile remained. Her voice softened. "Right?"
Why did her eyes suddenly feel hot?
Lucian inhaled sharply. His entire body tensed as if he was physically restraining himself from doing sothing reckless.
"deia." His voice was soft but firm. He leaned in, his warm hand cupping her cheek with a gentleness that made her breath hitch.
His erald eyes looked at her tenderly. "No man—no one—has the right to force you into sothing you don’t want. Husband or not."
His touch was soft, but his fury was palpable. Lucian was mad.
Not the kind of anger that ca and went, but the kind that settled deep in the bones, waiting for the right mont to explode.
How could soone be so cruel to her?
His sweet deia.
She didn’t deserve any of it.
Who cared if she was a demon in hell? She had only done her duty—punishing sinners—so why did she have to suffer in that sa hell?
"I hate him, Lucian." Her eyes seed like they lost the lights.
"I really hate him. But I couldn’t leave because he bound my soul to his. The only way to be free from him was to die."
deia had never been able to kill Lucifer, no matter how much she wanted to.
Her body and soul refused to go against him. The most she could do was imprison him, but even then, she couldn’t lay a hand on him—couldn’t harm him, couldn’t end him.
That was why, in the end, she willingly let Lucifer kill her.
Because only he could sever the bond between them.
"When he touched , I..." deia’s voice trailed off, and she lifted her head, locking eyes with Lucian. Her expression was twisted with pain. "But I did nothing. I let him do that. So maybe it’s my fault, right?"
deia was about to say more, but before she could, Lucian suddenly hugged her tightly. "No, you did nothing wrong. You really did nothing wrong," he whispered urgently, tightening his hold on her as if afraid she would disappear if he let go. "Your ex is a fucking bastard. If I could et him..."
If Lucian could et him, he would kill him a thousand tis, returning all the pain he had caused to his sweet deia.
She didn’t deserve any of that.
"Lucian, I wasn’t a good person back then," deia repeated, her voice quieter now. "I wasn’t a good person, so ... I won’t mind if you leave ."
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