Evelyn stood beneath the oak tree, her heart racing. The cool night air wrapped around her, carrying the faint scent of damp earth and distant rain. She glanced around, uncertainty gnawing at her. Should she return to the maids' wing? Or wait just a little longer?
"Morning star."
The deep, familiar voice sent a shiver down her spine. She turned sharply, her breath catching as she found Lord Azrael standing behind her, a handful of flowers in his grasp.
"My Lord…" Her fingers curled into the fabric of her dress as she took a step back, hesitation warring with curiosity.
Azrael extended the flowers toward her. "For you." Then, with an easy grace, he lowered himself onto the ground. "Sit. Let's watch the stars together."
Evelyn hesitated, her instincts screaming at her to leave. And yet, against her better judgment, she found herself lowering onto the grass beside him.
Azrael leaned back on his palms, tilting his head toward the sky. "Isn't it beautiful? The stars, the moon, the endless night?"
She followed his gaze, the vast expanse above them stretching endlessly. "It is," she admitted, her voice quieter than she intended.
Azrael smirked. "Let me show you something more."
He lifted his hand, fingers moving through the air in slow, deliberate motions. And then, like a whispered command, the darkness around them stirred.
Fireflies—golden, flickering embers—rose from the grass, swirling around Evelyn like stars plucked from the heavens. They danced in the air, their glow reflecting in her wide eyes.
She gasped softly, her breath catching at the sight. "Magic…"
Azrael turned toward her, watching her reaction with quiet amusement. "You like it?"
For a moment, Evelyn forgot the weight of caution pressing on her shoulders. She reached out, a firefly landing delicately on her fingertip. "It's beautiful," she whispered.
Azrael's smirk deepened. "So are you."
Her breath hitched, the spell of the moment breaking as she pulled her hand back. "My Lord—"
Azrael chuckled, leaning back against the tree as if the night belonged to him. "Relax, morning star. The night is still young."
Evelyn barely heard him. A firefly had landed on her nose, its tiny wings brushing against her skin. She blinked, laughing softly as it took off again, joining the others floating around her.
Without thinking, she stood up. The fireflies seemed to follow, their glow casting flickering shadows on the grass. She twirled once, the cool night air brushing against her cheeks. For a brief moment, she forgot where she was—who she was.
Azrael watched her, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he got to his feet and moved toward her.
Evelyn stilled. The warmth of his hand closed over hers, steady, unhurried. Not forceful, not demanding—just there.
Her heartbeat quickened.
His gaze was intense, searching. He stepped closer, and for a second, she swore he might—
No.
She stiffened, her mind catching up to what was happening.
This wasn't right. It couldn't be right.
She pulled away, stepping back so quickly that her heel caught on the grass. Azrael didn't stop her—he simply watched as she steadied herself.
Then she turned and ran.
She didn't look back, but she could still feel the weight of his gaze on her. And worse—she could still feel the warmth of his touch lingering on her skin.
---
Lucifer stood at the edge of Evelyn's bed, watching her sleep. Not for any noble reason—only for his own amusement.
She looked so peaceful, unaware of the devil himself looming over her. He smirked. How fragile humans were, so easily lost in their dreams.
He had been content to simply watch until she shifted. A quiet yawn escaped her lips as she stretched—and then, before he could react, her legs tangled with his.
Lucifer froze.
Her arm followed next, lazily draping over his torso as if he were nothing more than a pillow. His smirk vanished.
What—
A sudden warmth brushed his neck.
His entire body went rigid as her lips accidentally pressed against his skin. He felt a sharp jolt—not of pleasure, but of sheer, undiluted horror.
Then came the worst part.
"Mmm… turkey…" she mumbled sleepily.
Lucifer's eyes widened.
What?
Before he could even process what was happening, she nuzzled closer—and then, to his absolute disgust, licked his neck.
A full-body shudder wracked him. He recoiled, every fiber of his being rejecting what had just occurred. For a second, he was convinced he would combust on the spot.
No. No, this was unacceptable.
With a flick of his fingers, he carefully pried her off him, peeling her away as though she were something vile and contagious. Evelyn remained blissfully unaware, rolling onto her side with a soft sigh.
Lucifer exhaled sharply, wiping his neck as if trying to erase the memory.
"I should smite you for that," he muttered under his breath.
But he stayed a moment longer, watching her, before vanishing into the shadows.
Lucifer stormed into his chambers, slamming the door behind him. He summoned a goblet of wine with a flick of his wrist, downing it in one gulp. Yet, the taste did nothing to erase the ghostly sensation of Evelyn's lips on his neck.
He shuddered.
Of all the things he had endured in his immortal existence—wars, betrayals, cosmic annihilation—this was, without a doubt, one of the most unsettling.
And then, her sleepy mumble echoed in his head.
"Mmm… turkey…"
His brow twitched.
Turkey.
Of all things.
He had been mistaken for many things in his time—king, monster, deity, nightmare. But poultry?
Lucifer scowled, running a hand through his hair. He didn't know whether to be insulted or...
No. There was no or. He was insulted.
He paced across the room, trying to shake off the absurdity of it all. Why was he even thinking about this? It was meaningless. She was just a mortal. A foolish, oblivious mortal who had no idea who she had just licked in her sleep.
Still…
He found himself staring at the fireplace, lost in thought.
Had she been dreaming? And if so, what kind of dream involved him—the Prince of Darkness—being a roast chicken?
The image was so ridiculous that, to his horror, the corners of his mouth almost twitched upward.
Lucifer scoffed, shaking his head. No. He would not entertain this nonsense. He had far more important matters to deal with than the sleep-induced ramblings of an oblivious girl.
And yet, as he lay down in his own bed, the words haunted him.
"Mmm… turkey…"
Lucifer groaned, rolling onto his side.
Damn her.