A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL : CHAPTER 21 – 30

A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL : CHAPTER 21 – 30

IN THE DEVIL’S GRASP

SELENE BLINK.

I stared at him, my breath caught in my throat. *For as long as I’m alive?* His words echoed in my mind, each syllable laced with a quiet menace that set my nerves on edge.

“What does that mean?” I asked, my voice coming out much smaller than I’d intended. The girls—who had been watching me with eerie smiles—began to move closer, circling around the table like a flock of silent, elegant birds.

The man with the white hair leaned back in his chair, his dark eyes locking onto mine with an unsettling intensity. “You’ll understand soon enough, Selene. This is your destiny. You were always meant to be here.”

“I don’t even know you,” I countered, standing up abruptly. My chair screeched against the polished floor, the sound jarring in the otherwise quiet room. “I don’t know anything about this place, or what you expect from me.”

His smile widened, just enough to make the hairs on my arms stand on end. “Ah, but your blood knows. Your soul knows. You were promised to us before you even took your first breath.”

I backed away from the table, my heart hammering in my chest. The room felt smaller, the walls seeming to close in. *Promised?* I thought back to the whispers, to the strange occurrences that led me here. It all felt like a twisted nightmare I couldn’t wake up from.

Mirabelle’s voice floated toward me, soft and sweet. “There’s no need to be frightened, milady. You are safe with us, as long as you comply.”

I glanced around, desperate for an escape. The doors were closed, the windows sealed shut. The girls, though elegant in appearance, had a coldness in their eyes that made me feel like prey.

“I don’t belong here,” I whispered, taking another step back. “I want to leave.”

The man rose from his seat, his movements deliberate and slow, as though he was savoring the tension in the room. “That’s not an option, little one,” he said, his voice almost sympathetic. “Once you entered, you sealed your fate.”

I clutched my bag tighter, my knuckles turning white as panic set in. “Who are you?”

He didn’t answer immediately, taking his time as he stepped closer. “You will know me soon enough, Selene. But for now, you may call me Lucien.”

*Lucien?* The name sent a shiver down my spine. It wasn’t the name of the man in my dreams, but it carried the same weight, the same darkness. My knees felt weak, and my head swam with questions I wasn’t sure I wanted answered.

Lucien stopped just a few feet away from me, his solid black eyes boring into mine. “You were born into a bargain, Selene. A deal made by those who came before you. Your parents knew, and now you will know.”

“No,” I shook my head, refusing to believe it. “My parents never told me anything about this. They wouldn’t.”

“Your parents are dead,” he said flatly. “They had no choice in the matter. Neither do you.”

Tears prickled at the corners of my eyes, and I fought to keep them at bay. “What do you want from me?”

Lucien’s gaze softened, just for a moment. “We want what was promised, Selene. You.”

I felt the ground beneath me slipping away, as though everything I knew was falling apart. “I’m not part of some deal,” I said, my voice shaking. “I’m not some object you can just claim.”

Lucien tilted his head, considering me with a mix of pity and amusement. “You can deny it all you want, but the truth is undeniable. You were promised to Lucifer. And now, you must fulfill that promise.”

Lucifer. The name hit me like a punch to the gut, Before I could fire back another question, the door creaked open behind me. I turned to see the maids filing in, their expressions as blank as ever. The girl who had greeted me earlier stepped forward, her hands clasped in front of her. “It’s time for your bath, milady,” she said, her voice soft and sweet, though utterly devoid of emotion.

Lucien nodded, signaling for me to go with them.

I hesitated. “I don’t need—”

“You should go,” he interrupted, his voice gentle but firm, like a parent insisting a child do something for their own good. He gestured toward the maids with a graceful flick of his wrist. “They will take care of you.”

I looked from him to the maids, then back to him. Something in his gaze told me there was no use arguing. With a resigned sigh, I followed them.

As we walked down the corridor, I tried to calm the frantic pounding of my heart. The mansion was a labyrinth of dimly lit hallways, each corner more ornate than the last. The walls were adorned with intricate tapestries, shimmering gold accents, and mirrors so polished they reflected the low candlelight like stars. The deeper we went, the more elaborate everything became.

Finally, we reached a large door at the end of a hall. One of the maids pushed it open, revealing the most extravagant room I had ever seen.

The first thing that struck me was the overwhelming pink. The walls were a soft, blush color, adorned with golden moldings that wound around the ceiling in swirling patterns. Delicate chandeliers hung overhead, casting a warm glow that made the room feel both intimate and vast. A large, canopied bed sat in the center, draped in pink silk, with pillows piled high at the head. The furniture, too, was designed to perfection—vanities, mirrors, and plush chairs, all in shades of pink, white, and gold. It was the kind of room you’d expect to find in a princess’s castle, not in a place like this.

I stared at the room in disbelief. It looked like it had been made specifically for me, like someone had tailored every detail to my tastes. But how could they know?

“This is…” I began, trailing off. The room was so beautiful it almost made me forget where I was.

The maids gently guided me to the bathroom, large marble tub that sat in the far corner of the room, steam rising from the water. I stood there, suddenly self-conscious as they began to unbutton my shirt. I flinched.

“What are you doing?” I asked, pulling away slightly.

One of the maids, a girl with pale blond hair and wide blue eyes, tilted her head to the side. “We’re preparing you,” she said simply, her voice as emotionless as before.

“Preparing me for what?” I demanded, my heart racing again. “Why are you doing all this?”

The maids exchanged glances, but none of them answered. They just continued their work, efficiently stripping me of my clothes with mechanical precision. It was unnerving how calm they were, how detached.

“You belong to our lord,” the blond maid finally said, her voice eerily synchronized with the others. “We need to make sure you are well prepared.”

My breath caught in my throat. Their words hung in the air like a death sentence. “Prepared for what?” I asked, but they only continued their silent ministrations.

A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL : CHAPTER 21 – 30

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