Chapter 4 The Red Thread

“Why do you think she belongs to him?”

Morgana’s voice was a purr of amusement. She lounged on a velvet chaise, draping one leg over the other with the lazy elegance of a bored goddess. Lucifer’s jaw tightened, his obsidian eyes burning with a restrained, rhythmic fury.

“I can scent his mark on her,” he growled, the words dragged from his throat like shards of glass. “It clings to her skin like a curse the distinct, cloying scent of my sworn enemy.”

Morgana rose, her dark silk dress flowing like liquid shadow as she prowled toward him. She circled him, a predator scenting the air. “And yet,” she murmured, “if she truly belongs to the Vampire King, why hasn't her blood awakened? Why does she still walk in the sun?” She stopped behind him, her cold fingers ghosting over his tense shoulders.

Lucifer’s grip tightened on the edge of his mahogany desk until the wood groaned. “That is the variable I cannot predict,” he admitted, the truth tasting like ash. “She has been under my roof since she was a child, and never once did I sense the parasite within her. But now...” His voice dipped into a dangerous register. “His mark taints her. I can no longer ignore the stench of him.”

Morgana leaned in, her breath a chilling frost against his ear. “If she is his... will you still love her? Or will you be the one to break her?”

Silence fell over the room, heavy and suffocating. Lucifer loathed the question because he loathed the answer. He hated that the blood of the Vampire King might flow through her veins; he hated that his servant’s words rang with a truth he wasn't ready to face.

Without a word, he shoved away from the desk and paced toward the window, raking a hand through his midnight-black hair. “I need to test her,” he muttered.

Morgana’s eyes gleamed. “How?”

Lucifer’s lips curled into a slow, cruel smile. “I will expose her to raw power. If she recoils, she is human. But if she responds... if the vampire within her stirs…” He let the threat hang in the air. Deep down, a part of him the part that had watched her grow ached for her to be human.

Morgana chuckled. “And if she doesn't react? You know your hatred for vampires has made you paranoid, Master.”

Lucifer’s eyes flickered a lethal gold. “Then I’ll know she is hiding something. His scent lingers on her every time I get close. It’s an insult I won’t endure.”

“If she were a true vampire, the moon would have called to her by now,” Morgana teased, playing with a lock of his hair.

“Unless,” Lucifer countered, his gaze darkening, “one parent was human.”

Morgana arched a brow. “But you forbade that union centuries ago. The Law of Blood.”

His fist slammed against the armrest, the leather snapping under his strength. “I did!” he snarled, his rage crackling through the room like a physical storm. “No vampire should ever breed with humanity. And yet, if he defied me...”

Morgana watched him with knowing amusement. “So, tell me, Master. What truly has you on edge? This isn't just about ancient bloodlines. I can feel your fury poisoning the air.”

Lucifer stiffened, a muscle ticking in his jaw. When he finally spoke, his voice was as sharp as a guillotine blade. “Selena... has a boyfriend.”

The floating candles in the room flickered and died, reacting to his surge of malice. Ancient books flew off the shelves, their pages rustling in a chaotic whirlwind.

Morgana’s laughter rang out, wicked and sharp. “The Great Master of Darkness, the King of Hell himself... jealous of a mortal boy?”

“Don’t. You. Dare.” Lucifer’s voice was a subterranean growl. “She belongs to me. Body and soul.”

“And how will you make her forget him?”

“I will erase him from the tapestry of her life.”

Morgana’s amusement faltered. “You cannot. I have seen the threads of fate, Lucifer. Michael and Selena... their souls are tied by the Red Thread. They are bound.”

Lucifer stood tall, energy radiating off him in thick, suffocating waves. “I am Lucifer. Fate bows to my whim.” He turned to her, his smirk merciless. “I will cut that thread and bind her to me with chains she cannot break.”

“Shall I kill the boy for you?” Morgana offered.

Lucifer shook his head. “Not yet. I want him to watch as she falls into my arms. I want him to witness the moment she chooses a monster over a man.” He turned away, his mind already weaving the trap. “Tomorrow, Selena will work in my office. Prepare a desk.”

THREE WEEKS LATER

“Selena,” Lilith whispered, leaning over her cubicle. “I swear, your uncle gets hotter every time I see him. Does he age backward or is it just the lighting?”

Selena nearly choked on her coffee, shooting Lilith a panicked glare. “Lilith! Keep your voice down!”

“That just makes it funnier,” Lilith teased, watching Lucifer stride past. He was dressed in a tailored black suit that fit like a second skin, his aura so cold it seemed to drop the temperature of the hallway by ten degrees.

Selena’s heart raced. His presence was a storm rolling in, heavy and inevitable. She looked down, pretending to focus on the documents, but her fingers were trembling so violently she could barely hold her pen.

“Seriously though,” Lilith whispered, “thanks for the job. The pay is insane.”

“Just… don’t mention we’re related,” Selena hissed. “No one here knows.”

“Got it,” Lilith said, but her gaze suddenly shifted toward the elevator. “Whoa. Who is that? She looks like pure, unfiltered evil.”

Selena’s stomach sank. She didn't have to look up to know who it was. The rhythmic click-clack of stilettos on the marble floor sounded like a countdown to a disaster.

Morgana.

The woman sauntered down the hall in a gown of flowing charcoal silk. “Talking about me?” she asked, her voice dripping with mock sweetness.

Both girls froze. Morgana stood beside their desk, her smile sharp enough to draw blood. Her gaze devoured Selena. “It’s been a while, Selena. You’ve grown… beautiful. No wonder he’s so possessive.”

Selena’s throat tightened. She felt like a bird trapped in a cage with a cobra.

“Oh,” Morgana continued, her tone turning bored. “Your uncle wants to see you. Now.”

“Do you know why?” Selena asked, her pulse pounding in her ears.

Morgana smirked, leaning in close. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

Selena walked to Lucifer’s office with clammy palms. She hesitated at the massive double doors, taking a shaky breath before knocking.

“Come in.”

The voice was smooth too smooth. Like oil over fire.

She stepped inside. Lucifer sat behind his desk, his fingers tapping a slow, rhythmic beat against the polished wood. His dark eyes locked onto hers, heavy and unreadable. The air in the room felt different today metallic and thick.

“Selena,” he greeted, his eyes never leaving her face.

“You wanted to see me?” she whispered.

He gestured toward a crystal glass on the edge of the desk. It was filled with a thick, viscous, crimson liquid. The unmistakable scent of iron hit her nose, sharp and primal. Her stomach churned as she realized what it was. Crushed, fresh blood.

“Bring me that cup,” he commanded.

Lucifer leaned back, a dangerous, expectant smirk playing on his lips. He watched her every movement, waiting to see if her pupils would dilate, if her fangs would ache, or if the hunger would finally unmask the girl he had raised.

Because no vampire, no matter how well-hidden, could ever truly resist the call of blood.