Days—or perhaps weeks—passed in a haze of heat and fury. In Hell, time didn't move like it did on Earth. It pulsed, like a heartbeat echoing through the bones of the damned.
Lina did not cry. She did not beg. Andra expected her to break. He watched her, always silent, always near. Sometimes he offered her gifts—rings of infernal gold, cloaks that shimmered like starlight dipped in blood, or relics forged from screaming souls.
She refused every one.
"You think you can buy what you stole?" she said, eyes locked to his. "You don't understand anything about love. Or choice."
Andra said nothing. But his jaw tensed. His claws curled.
He was not used to resistance. Especially not from something so fragile. So mortal.
And yet… he couldn't crush her.
Not because he couldn't—but because he didn't want to.
He wanted her flame. Her fire. Her fury.
Lina began exploring the palace with purpose. She mapped the corridors of her prison. Counted every torch, every locked gate. She spoke with the silent servants—shades who feared Andra but looked at Lina with something close to hope. She was not like the others. She still had fight in her.
One night, she discovered a chamber hidden deep beneath the throne room. It pulsed with dark magic, ancient and raw. Carvings lined the walls in a language she didn't understand, but the symbols sang to her bones.
She placed her hand on the stone—and it answered.
Flames rose around her, not to burn her—but to dance.
She gasped. The fire obeyed her.
Not his fire. Hers.
Behind her, a deep voice rumbled. "You found the heart."
Andra stepped from the shadows, his eyes brighter than usual. Not angry—curious.
Lina didn't flinch. "What is this place?"
"It is the oldest part of Hell," he said, stepping closer. "A place even I fear. The heart of the realm—where fire listens. It hasn't sung in centuries." He stared at her, studying every flicker of flame around her skin. "Until you."
She turned to face him fully, fire wrapping around her like armor. "You brought me here to break me. But you've given me something else, haven't you?"
Andra's voice lowered, rough with emotion he didn't want to name. "I didn't know you would wake it."
Lina stepped forward, flames licking at her heels.
"Maybe you didn't chain a queen, Andra," she said. "Maybe you crowned a threat."
He should have struck her down.
But he didn't.
Instead, Andra stared at her, torn between rage and… something far more dangerous.
Desire.
Lina walked past him, the fire parting for her like it belonged to her—and her alone.
She had found her power.
Now, she would decide how to use it.
And Hell itself would tremble.