Chapter 6
554 Words
LETTERS FROM HELL
Amara sat in silence long after Lucifer disappeared.
The black envelope sat between her and her father like a curse neither of them wanted to touch. Her fingers hovered above it, tingling as if the paper radiated heat or darkness.
“You don’t have to open that,” her father said quietly.
But she already knew she would.
She had to.
Her hands trembled as she broke the blood-red wax. The paper inside was heavy, textured, and smelled faintly of firewood and roses. Elegant handwriting in dark crimson ink curled across the first page:
“To My Daughter, Amara.”
She paused.
It wasn’t Lucifer’s handwriting.
It was… her mother’s.
Her throat tightened as she continued reading.
“If you’re reading this, it means he’s come for you. I never wanted you to know like this, but fate is not something we can rewrite. Twenty-five years ago, I made a deal one I cannot undo. I traded something precious to gain power in a world that saw me as nothing. I gave him you.”
Amara’s hands clenched the paper.“You were meant to live your life, unaware. You are bonded to him by blood, by fire, by something older than magic itself. I did it for survival. I never thought he’d truly claim you.”
Tears burned behind Amara’s eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
She flipped to the second page.
“Lucifer is not a man. He is temptation. Power. Danger. But he is also yours. Whether you love him or hate him, the bond ties your soul to his. He will change your life. He will change you. I don’t know what you’ll become with him but it will be something the world fears.”
Amara let the paper fall onto the table. Her stomach twisted.
“I can’t believe this,” she whispered.
Her father stayed quiet for a long time. “I always knew your mother was hungry for more. But I never imagined she’d sell her own daughter.”
Amara stood, pacing.
Her mind was spiraling. Every weird dream, every strange feeling every burning moment of being watched. It all made sense now.
“I’m not his,” she growled. “I never asked for this.”
“That doesn’t matter to him,” her father said. “He’s claimed you.”
She looked down at her wrist, suddenly remembering the strange burn mark she got a few months ago. She’d dismissed it as a curling iron accident. But now…It looked like a symbol. A seal.
Lucifer’s mark.
Amara picked up the letter again, flipping to the final page.
There was only one line written there, in the same red ink:
“You are the fire the underworld bows to. Do not run from what you are.”
Now she sounds weird.
Her jaw tightened.
So that was it.
Her life already fragile was never hers to begin with.
She didn’t sleep that night.
The wind howled outside her window, and her dreams burned with shadows and whispers. She saw flames. Blood. And eyes those flaming black eyes watching her from the dark, like a promise she couldn’t escape.
By morning, one thing was clear.
Lucifer hadn’t just claimed her.
He’d awakened something inside her.
And now?
There was no going back.
- Writer
