✨ Devils Want Her Too ✨

Chapter 7: The Spark Inside

Liora's POV

Maybe I was meant to rule in this world.

The thought circled through my mind like a flame caught in wind—dangerous, tempting, and impossible to ignore.

Me. A girl who once cried herself to sleep in closets, now sitting in a realm where gods once feared to tread. And despite everything... I wasn't falling apart. I wasn't breaking.

I was rising.

Still messy. Still unsure. Still me.

But different now.

And the four devils who surrounded me—they were changing too.

It started with the sky.

I was walking through the courtyard garden alone, breathing in the sweet, smoky air, when the clouds above flickered. One heartbeat it was crimson and violet... the next, a burst of silver light cut through the realm like a blade.

And the entire garden responded.

The flowers trembled. The stone beneath my feet pulsed once—like it recognized me.

And then the trees began to bow.

Literally.

Their branches curved toward me as I passed, like I was royalty, or... something sacred.

I froze.

"What the hell..." I whispered.

The power inside me stirred.

It wasn't painful. It wasn't loud.

It was curious.

I held up my hand, and the air shimmered around it like the world was trying to remember something ancient.

Then a soft voice behind me murmured, "You felt it, didn't you?"

I turned to see Thalor emerging from the shadows, his pale face unreadable, crimson eyes locked on mine.

I nodded. "What is it?"

He walked to me slowly, his coat brushing the ground. "Your soul is starting to remember its nature. The divine in you—the part from your mother—is responding to the realm. And the realm is responding back."

"Why now?" I asked.

Thalor's gaze swept across the trees. "Because you've stopped hiding. Because you've finally allowed yourself to feel."

I looked down at my glowing fingertips, lips parting. "It feels like... warmth. Like I'm waking up."

He looked at me, softer this time.

"It's dangerous to wake a sleeping goddess."

Later that day, Aurelian called me into his private hall.

He was pacing—always a sign of trouble. His wings were half-spread, restless.

When he saw me, he stopped. His eyes burned gold. "The realm felt you."

"Yeah," I said, still dazed. "It bowed."

His gaze sharpened. "That doesn't happen, Liora. Not even for me."

A beat of silence.

Then he strode forward and cupped my face between his hands. "You need to understand what you are. You're not just power—you're balance. Light and dark. Fire and frost. Angel and devil."

"I didn't ask for this," I whispered.

His voice was low. "You didn't have to. You were born for it."

And then he kissed me.

Not like the first time, when he'd ignited something ancient.

This kiss was slower. Controlled.

But it made my toes curl anyway.

He pulled back just enough to say, "You're going to change everything."

Ravion found me training later that evening.

I'd conjured a spear of fire and nearly torched a statue.

He clapped. "Ten out of ten. Bit dramatic, though."

I glared. "It wasn't supposed to explode."

He swaggered closer, shirtless (again), tattoos glinting in the firelight. "Exploding's kind of your thing, sweetheart."

I tried to hide my smile. Failed.

He walked behind me, placing his hands on my waist. "You're holding your core too tight."

"I swear to all seven hells—if this is another excuse to grope me—"

"It's not," he murmured, voice low in my ear. "But it is an excuse to be close."

His hands guided mine, shifting my posture. His body pressed against my back. I felt every inch of muscle.

"You smell like smoke and temptation," he whispered.

"You smell like ego and soap."

He laughed—and somehow it made me feel safer.

That night, I sat in Varek's forge, watching him sharpen his sword.

He hadn't spoken much. Just worked, his jaw set, green eyes flickering to me when he thought I wasn't looking.

Finally, I broke the silence. "Why do you always stare like you're memorizing me?"

He didn't stop moving. "Because I am."

I swallowed. "Why?"

He paused then. Looked up.

"Because I don't trust this realm to let you stay."

I blinked.

"That's... dark."

"It's honest," he said. "The stronger you get, the more the balance will tilt. Others will come. To use you. To worship you. To kill you."

He stood slowly and crossed the room, stopping in front of me. "But I'll be the one who ends them first."

He brushed a finger under my chin.

And walked away.

That night, I couldn't sleep.

So I found myself drifting into the tower library, where Thalor kept the forbidden texts.

To my surprise, he was already there—sitting at a long table, surrounded by open tomes, a cup of ink-black tea steaming by his elbow.

"You dream too loudly," he said without looking up.

"I didn't even fall asleep."

"Exactly."

I walked over, settling across from him. "What are you reading?"

He tapped a sigil-covered book. "Old myths. Ones that speak of a child born of light and fire. Of realms bending to her will."

My chest tightened. "And what happens to her?"

He looked at me.

And for the first time, I saw it.

Fear.

"She dies," he said. "Unless she's claimed by those strong enough to share her burden."

I exhaled slowly. "Claimed?"

He nodded. "It doesn't mean ownership. It means protection. Balance. The bond spreads the strain. The pain. The power."

I stared at him. "You're afraid for me."

He didn't answer.

But he reached across the table and touched my hand.

That was enough.

I fell asleep that night surrounded by four pieces of chaos:

A devil king with a crown of shadows.
A cursebearer with no mercy.
A lust demon with fire in his laugh.
And a warlord who watched me like a prayer he didn't know how to say.

And for the first time since this all began... I didn't feel alone.