Breeder Of The Infernal Highness

The Devil's Gaze

Alyssa Pov

“I ran down the street, knowing full well I was late and that Mr. Joel was going to chew me out. I pushed my legs faster, lungs burning, until the bar’s front door stood before me. I burst inside, panting like something had been chasing me, and squeezed into the nearest hiding spot. Peeking through the glass, I searched for Mr. Joel at the counter. He wasn’t there. Relief eased the tightness in my chest and I eased myself through the door, trying—hoping—to slip in unnoticed.

I hadn’t made it far when I realized someone was imitating my slow, careful steps. Mr. Joel stood a few feet away, watching me the way an employer does when they suspect a thousand excuses. He was in his mid-thirties, a bald patch shining at the crown while rough tufts clung stubbornly to the sides. His nose was crooked, as if it had taken a hit once and never fully forgiven whoever had broken it. A shadow of stubble along his jaw softened the lines of his face, and his broad stomach strained the buttons of his shirt. He carried himself with the lazy confidence of someone used to long nights and loud laughter, but his eyes still held a flicker of humor that always managed to make him oddly likable.

“You’re late today,” he said, waiting for whatever sympathetic excuse I would offer.

“Damian’s running a high fever. I couldn’t leave him—I had to take him to the hospital,” I told him.

The words seemed to work. Mr. Joel’s features relaxed just enough; earlier, he’d slipped me a thousand dollars to cover my brother’s medical bills, and for a frantic second I felt that same fragile gratitude swell inside me.

By the way, I never properly introduced myself—my name is Alyssa. I’m eighteen and in my senior year at Stuyvesant High School in New York City.

My face is delicate, framed by long waves of golden hair that falls softly around my shoulders. My skin stayed smooth and pale with a faint, natural glow. My eyes were clear blue and calm, lashes long enough to cast soft shadows; my lips were full and lightly tinted, my nose small and refined, the lines of my jaw soft and unassuming.

My body is slender and balanced, gentle curves moving with a quiet grace. There’s something about the way I hold myself—composed, almost ethereal—that people tend to notice before they notice anything else.

Ever since our parents died in that ghastly accident after a family dinner, Damian and I have been scraping by. His asthma and a failing heart make him fragile—he needs a transplant to survive—and I would trade anything to make sure he gets one. Anything.

“I have something important to tell you, Alyssa.” The way Mr. Joel said my name sent a chill through me—he never called me like that. I was the bar’s only server; he didn’t use my name unless he had a reason.

I didn’t get an answer. A sudden, violent banging at the front door made the whole room tremble. Mr. Joel hit the floor as if the earth itself had opened beneath him. He shrank there, hands pressed to the ground like a man begging to be swallowed.

My eyes darted to the entrance. Two hefty men filled the doorway; their bearing and the emptiness in their stares sent a cold shiver down my spine. They didn’t look like any customers I’d known. They stopped, stared at Mr. Joel with eyes that felt like knives, then split apart to make way. Someone else stepped through.

He moved like a shadow with the weight of authority. He wore a deep crimson velvet coat embroidered with silver filigree, the high collar cutting a stark line beneath his jaw. A dark silk shirt sat smooth beneath the coat, and a black, armored glove covered one hand, gleaming just enough to make me uneasy. Every detail of his clothing—silver clasps, dark fabric—radiated power, elegance, and danger.

As he crossed the floor, his crimson eyes were flat, cruel, and impossibly calm. He passed me as if I weren’t there, as if I had no right to breathe in his presence, and stalked straight to Mr. Joel. He reached up and tilted the older man’s chin, speaking in a voice that sounded ill at ease with being heard, but loud enough. “It is time.”

Mr. Joel’s pleading came in a strangled whisper. “Please—please—” but it landed like rain on stone.

The man produced a black knife with a serpent coiled around its handle, the snake’s scales painted in a bloody red that made the air in my lungs thicken.

Fear pushed me forward. I couldn’t stand there and watch them kill him. “Leave him alone,” I said, my voice cutting through the room. The man glanced at me briefly, then went back to his task as though I’d done nothing.

“If you don’t stop, I’ll call the police,” I threatened, hoping I sounded firmer than I felt.

His mouth curved into a mocking smile. “So what will the police do?” he sneered, amusement in his voice.

“You’ll be arrested. You’ll spend your life behind bars for attempted murder,” I said, words sharper than I’d intended.

He laughed—soft, almost fond. “You’re interesting. I like that about you. Perhaps I’ve found the person I’m looking for,” he muttered under his breath, barely audible.

He closed the distance between us. Each step he took matched one I took back, until my spine hit the bar counter and I was trapped. He leaned in until I could feel his hot breath; without ceremony, he lifted his hand and brushed my left cheek with one finger. The touch should have been gentle; instead it felt like a threat.

Mr. Joel’s voice trembled through the silence. “I’ll do anything you want—just let her go.”

The man’s smile widened. “Of course you would. That’s expected. But she chose to interfere in a matter that doesn’t concern her. She will pay,” he said, cold and certain.

My stomach turned. I closed my eyes, bracing myself for whatever would come next. If he killed me, who would care for Damian? The thought tightened the knot in my chest.

At that moment, the bar’s bell jingled—soft and ordinary—and hope flared stupidly in my chest. I opened my eyes, praying to see someone who could save us, someone who could stand between us and whatever the man intended.

Instead, Elaria—my best friend—stood in the doorway.