Jayden hadn't slept much.
The ruby necklace Azrael had given her pressed lightly against her chest, but not even its quiet warmth could lull her into peace. The ghost who'd called her "princess" haunted her mind. Her breath would still hitch when she remembered how it shielded her—how familiar its voice sounded in the thick of fear.
Azrael noticed.
"You're restless," he said quietly, standing at the mouth of their cave shelter, cloaked in the morning mist. His eyes never looked at her gently. But this time, they didn't look cruel either.
Jayden stood beside him, arms wrapped around herself. "He knew me," she whispered. "That ghost. He called me princess. He didn't try to hurt me. He... protected me."
Azrael turned to her now. "Ghosts are echoes. But some remember more than they should." His voice was unreadable, but his gaze held a sharp intensity. "You're waking up."
Jayden frowned. "Waking up to what?"
He didn't answer. Not directly. Instead, he lifted his hand slowly and touched the side of her face. It wasn't romantic—at least not on purpose. But her breath caught.
"Your silver eye. It glows when spirits are near," he murmured. "That's the part of me inside you. That's why you see the dead."
Her fingers trembled as they reached for her left eye. "You gave me this?"
"You took it. The moment I saved you." His tone was calm, but something flickered behind his eyes. "Humans aren't supposed to see what lies beyond. But you're not just human, are you?"
She flinched at his words.
He noticed.
"You still don't trust me," he said lowly.
"I... I don't even trust myself," Jayden admitted. "There's something inside me. Something dark. Sometimes I feel like I'm just a vessel waiting to explode."
Azrael stepped closer. "You are. And when that time comes, I'll be the one to end it."
Jayden blinked at him. "You say things like that, but then you protect me. Carry me. Stay with me. So what am I supposed to believe?"
He didn't flinch. "Believe that you belong to me. That's all you need to understand for now."
Her heart thudded. "You say that like I'm a possession."
His voice dipped to a near growl. "You're not just some girl in the woods anymore. You are the cursed heir of a forsaken throne, with a demon inside you and a grim reaper tied to your soul. If I say you're mine, it's because I'm the only thing keeping you alive."
Jayden stepped back, heart racing—not from fear, but the strange heat that always curled in her chest when he looked at her like that.
Azrael's gaze fell to the necklace. "The dead are watching you. Some want to protect. Others want to possess. And there are those," he said, his voice sharp as steel, "who want to twist you against yourself."
"Mammoth," Jayden whispered.
"Yes." Azrael's tone hardened. "He'll use your need for answers against you. Whisper truths coated in lies. You're vulnerable in dreams. He knows that."
Jayden swallowed. "What if I already believed something he said?"
Azrael stepped even closer, and his fingers grazed her chin, lifting her face gently but firmly.
"Then I'll burn it from your mind."
His words should have frightened her. But they didn't.
She stared at him, wide-eyed, breath shallow. His hand lingered on her skin, thumb brushing her jaw.
Their proximity was dangerous. Electric.
"You're staring," she whispered.
He smirked. "You're the one who wanted me to stay with you."
"I didn't ask you to stare at me like a wolf who's hungry."
His eyes darkened. "Then stop looking so tempting, little doll."
Jayden's knees weakened. "W-What?"
Azrael leaned in, voice brushing against her ear. "You started this."
Her breath hitched.
"Now you're backing down?" he teased. "How disappointing."
Jayden blushed furiously and turned away. "N-Never mind…"
A slow, wicked smirk stretched across his lips. "Hn. Just as I thought."
She didn't answer. Her thoughts were already scrambled enough.
But something inside her—deep, ancient—shuddered at his touch. She could feel Sage's laughter echoing faintly in her bones.
And somewhere far away, hidden in shadows, Mammoth smiled.
The afternoon sun dipped low, casting long, golden rays across the forest clearing where Jayden sat, half-lost in her thoughts. She had been pacing all day, restless, her mind haunted by flashes of dreams—vague, confusing dreams of a woman's soft voice, a lullaby, and blood on marble floors. But as the light dimmed, something strange pulled at her, guiding her to the quiet lake.
The water shimmered, and the air turned cold. Jayden stood by the edge, heart thudding. A voice—familiar and distant—whispered through the wind.
"Little dove…"
Her breath hitched. A pale shimmer rose from the water, forming the soft silhouette of a woman. Her old nanny.
"Aurora?" Jayden whispered, her voice trembling.
The ghostly figure didn't speak immediately. Her face, though transparent, still bore the same warmth Jayden remembered from when she was small. But before Jayden could reach out, another voice interrupted the stillness—a low, honeyed tone that wrapped around her like a dangerous lullaby.
"She still watches over you, even in death. How precious."
Jayden spun around, heart hammering, and froze. A man stood at the treeline, tall and lean, his silver eyes glowing like molten steel. His raven-black hair fell over one eye, and his smirk curled with cruel charm. It was him. Mammoth.
She staggered back instinctively, reaching for the ruby necklace Azrael had given her, clutching it tightly.
"You…" she breathed, her voice shaking. "You're the one from my dream."
"I'm real enough now," Mammoth replied smoothly, stepping forward. As he walked, his monstrous form melted away, leaving behind a breathtakingly beautiful man—inhumanly flawless, like temptation crafted from shadows and sin.
Jayden's fear faltered, confused by his almost serene presence. His voice dropped as he stepped closer, his eyes never leaving hers.
"I saw you talking to that ghost. Do you want to know why she still lingers? Why your past is drowning you in fragments you can't piece together?" He tilted his head. "Azrael won't tell you. He's too… attached."
"You're lying," she whispered, voice cracking.
"Am I?" he asked, brushing a finger gently against her cheek. "He keeps you in the dark. I offer clarity. Wouldn't you like to know who you really are… why the demon clings to your soul like it was always meant to?"
Her grip on the necklace tightened, but she didn't move. Mammoth's hand fell slowly to her waist, the touch light, deliberate.
"Give in, Jayden. Let me in," he whispered.
Her body stiffened, breath caught in her throat. She wanted to scream, to push him away—but his eyes, his voice, something was pulling at her, lulling her into stillness. Her fingers trembled around the ruby.
Then—
A flash of black mist.
A slicing whoosh.
Mammoth jerked backward as a sharp scythe grazed his cheek, cutting a thin line across his perfect skin. Jayden gasped.
Azrael stood a few feet away, shadows coiling around his boots, his golden eyes blazing like wildfire.
"Back. Away. From her," he growled, his voice low, deadly.
Jayden whispered his name softly, relief flooding her chest.
Mammoth turned slowly, eyes narrowing as the scratch on his cheek healed within seconds. "Jealous, Azrael? Or just late?"
Azrael didn't reply—his scythe now hovered beside him, ready to strike. "Next time, I won't miss. Leave. Now."
With a lazy sigh, Mammoth glanced back at Jayden. "You'll come to me, little dove. One day, you'll want the truth." He winked, then disappeared into the shadows.
Silence fell, and only the wind remained.
Azrael turned to Jayden, stepping closer, his expression unreadable. "What happened?"
Jayden hesitated, then told him—mostly. She left out how close Mammoth had gotten, how his touch still lingered like a memory on her skin.
Azrael stared at her for a long moment. Then, quietly, "Why didn't you call me?"
She looked down at the necklace still in her hand. "I was going to. I just… I was scared. Confused."
He stepped closer, gently lifting her chin. "If anything happens to you, Jayden," he said softly, "I will tear the world apart. Do you understand?"
Her breath caught. He was so close. She nodded, cheeks flushed. Her heart beat a little too fast.
"But…" she whispered, "do you care for me because you want to protect me? Or… is it something else?"
Azrael's gaze flickered over her face, unreadable again. "Sleep," he said softly. "We'll talk later."
But that night, neither of them slept.