The sun shined through Lily's bedroom window, casting warm golden rays on the pale walls. But Lily barely noticed. She lay on her bed, staring at the glowing red mark on her wrist. The heat pulsed steadily, a quiet reminder that whatever had touched her wasn't going away.
She turned her wrist this way and that, hoping the burning sensation would stop. It didn't.
What is this? she thought, a tight knot forming in her stomach.
The day before had felt like a nightmare she couldn't wake up from. A strange man appeared, claiming her as his bride. A demon prince.
Lily blinked back tears, overwhelmed by the impossible truth. Was she hallucinating?
A soft knock on her door broke through her thoughts.
"Lily? You awake?" Mia's voice was gentle but firm.
Lily sat up and wiped her eyes.
"Yeah. Come in."
Mia entered with two steaming mugs of coffee, settling on the edge of Lily's bed.
"You need this," Mia said, handing her one. "And you need to tell me everything. From the beginning."
Lily took a sip, grateful for the warmth. She told Mia about the mark, the burning pain, the man with red eyes, and the chilling claim that she belonged to him.
Mia's eyes widened.
"That's… insane," she said slowly. "Are you sure it wasn't a dream?"
"I wish it was." Lily showed her the mark. "It's real, Mia. And it hurts."
Mia reached out and gently touched the mark. "You should let me see a doctor."
"No doctor can explain this," Lily said quietly.
The day stretched on, but Lily couldn't focus. At school, the whispers began.
"Look at her."
"Do you see that mark?"
Lily's chest tightened every time someone glanced her way. Her classmates avoided her as if the mark branded her an outcast.
She ducked into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.
Her reflection showed a pale girl with haunted eyes and trembling hands. She pressed her wrist harder, trying to will away the pain.
Flashbacks filled her mind moments from her childhood when she felt different, alone.
Her parents' whispered arguments.
Her mother's cold distance.
And the night she was born, in a storm so fierce the midwife had called it a bad omen.
Lily swallowed the lump in her throat. Was this mark connected to all of it?
At lunch, Mia sat beside her, offering silent support.
"You're not alone," Mia said softly. "We'll figure this out."
After school, they walked to the old part of town, where Madame Zara's shop stood like a relic from another time.
The wooden sign creaked in the wind: Fortunes, Curses, and Secrets.
Lily hesitated before stepping inside. The air was thick with incense and the scent of herbs.
Madame Zara, an old woman with silver hair and eyes that seemed to see through souls, smiled warmly.
"Ah, Lily Evans. I've been expecting you."
Lily swallowed hard. "You have?"
Madame Zara nodded. "The mark you bear is ancient and powerful. It ties you to a fate beyond this world."
Lily's heart raced.
"Tell me everything," she whispered.
Madame Zara began to explain, her voice low and steady, weaving a tale of demons, binding marks, and a love that could break or bind souls forever.
As the sun set outside, Lily felt the weight of the truth pressing down on her.
On the walk home, she shivered despite the cool evening air.
When she reached her house, the cold sensation returned.
A shadow lingered at the edge of the driveway.
"Beware the hunters," a voice whispered, barely audible.
Lily froze.
She scanned the street but saw no one. Was she losing her mind? Or was the danger already closer than she thought?
She turned and ran inside, locking the door behind her before leaning against it with her heart racing.
The shadowy figure, the whispered warning of the hunters echoed in her mind like a dark drumbeat she couldn't shake.
Hunters. Who were they? And why were they after her?
Her fingers brushed the red mark glowing faintly on her wrist. The burning was worse tonight. It felt like a fire crawling beneath her skin, growing stronger with each passing minute.
She didn't want to believe it, but deep down she knew Azrael wasn't the only danger now. Something darker was closing in, something more terrifying than she could imagine.
Lily forced herself to move away from the door and toward her room, locking it behind her. The house felt too quiet, too empty.
She sat on the edge of her bed, trying to catch her breath.
"Hunters," she whispered to herself. "What does that even mean? Could it be the rogue vampires Madame Zara told her about?" She put her hand on her forehead as she broke into a cold sweat
Her phone buzzed suddenly on the nightstand. Mia.
"Are you okay?" the message read.
Lily's fingers trembled as she typed back.
"Not really, I feel like something. I don't know what, but it's bad."
Minutes later, Mia called.
"Lily? Talk to me. What's going on?"
"I heard someone whisper 'hunters' outside," Lily said quietly. "I don't know what it means, but it can't be good."
Mia's voice grew serious. "You're not alone. We'll figure it out."
They talked for a while, making plans for the next day. Research, protection spells, anything that might help.
But as Lily hung up, a sudden noise downstairs made her jump.
Footsteps. Slow. Measured.
She froze.
The front door was locked. The windows sealed tight. Yet someone was inside the house.
Heart pounding, Lily grabbed a heavy lamp from the bedside table and crept toward the door.
The footsteps stopped.
Silence.
Then a faint whisper floated through the air.
"You can't hide forever."
Lily's breath caught. She spun around, but saw nothing.
The house seemed to close in around her. The air thick with tension and unseen threats.
Suddenly, her phone buzzed again. A new message, this time from an unknown number:
"You belong to Azrael. We belong to the hunters. Stay away or suffer the consequences."
Lily's hands shook as she read the words.
Tears stung her eyes.
She was trapped between two forces she didn't understand.
Azrael, the demon prince who claimed her soul.
And the hunters, shadowy enemies who wanted to tear them apart.
The night stretched on, each minute heavier than the last.
Lily didn't know who to trust, or what the future held.
But one thing was clear; her life was no longer hers.
And the war for her heart and soul had only just begun.