Violet's POV
"She is immortal… Lucifer's blood flows in her veins. That cursed blood is the only thing keeping her alive."
"She's holding on," another voice murmured. "Barely."
"But for how long?" someone scoffed. "She's wasting away. You can see death in her eyes."
"Isn't the King of Hell going to intervene? She is still his daughter. His flesh. His blood. It is only right he saves her."
A cruel laugh followed.
"We all know Lucifer cares for no one but himself. Not even his own flesh and blood. Especially not his illegitimate daughter, born from the womb of a careless woman."
"Where is the woman now?"
"Dead. Lucifer slaughtered her. Said she wasn't worthy to bear his seed."
Silence fell.
"Poor Violet. She is truly alone now."
"Having Lucifer as a father is the same as having no father at all."
"He's too busy ruling Hell to notice his dying daughter."
"But someone else noticed her," a softer voice cut in. "The Dragon God."
My heart skipped.
"He's on Earth now," the voice continued, "searching for the five elemental herbs. They say it's the only cure."
"He must love her deeply to risk everything."
"Or maybe he's just repaying her for saving his life when he was a child."
"No," someone whispered. "It's more than debt. The bond between them is ancient. Endless."
"The question is… will he succeed?"
"Zoah never fails."
"But even gods can be too late."
Their words sliced through me like knives.
Zoah… did you truly do all this for me?
If you did, then even death will not erase my love for you.
"I don't care if he arrives too late," I whispered, opening my eyes. "I can die in peace knowing I mattered to him."
Gasps erupted.
"The Princess of Hell is awake," the doctor announced.
Disgust churned in my stomach.
"Don't call me that," I snapped coldly. "I am not a princess. Not of Hell."
Everyone in the room knew my hatred for that cursed title.
For Lucifer.
For the throne drenched in blood and screams.
I wanted nothing from him.
Nothing from Hell.
All I wanted was Zoah.
To stand beside him.
To rule nothing.
To escape everything.
To live in Dragon Haven, far from war and darkness.
To birth dragons.
To feel peace for once in my miserable existence.
Hell can rot.
Lydia, my most loyal follower, rushed to my side and gripped my trembling hand.
"Don't give up, Violet," she whispered. "Zoah will save you. Just like you once saved him."
A weak smile curved my lips.
"If he does," I breathed, "I'll marry him. I'll never leave his side."
My eyes darkened.
"But if he fails…"
I swallowed.
"My soul will not go to Hell. I'll stay with him. Watch him. Haunt him if I must."
A bitter chuckle escaped me.
"I won't let him love anyone else."
Tears burned my eyes.
"Oh Zoah… you truly cared for me."
"Do not say such a thing, my lady," Lydia sobbed, her body trembling as she clutched the edge of my bed. "Do not abandon your wretched maidservant. I cannot bear a life without serving you. My life belongs to you."
"Perhaps," I murmured softly, "it is time for you to claim your freedom. You have saved me for two centuries. I believe I owe you that much."
"No," she cried instantly, shaking her head in frantic denial. "Freedom no longer matters to me. Devotion has consumed me. My purpose is you. I wish to serve you for the rest of my life." She bowed deeply. "Command me, Your Highness."
A faint smile touched my lips.
"You must leave my side," I said firmly.
"No, no!" Lydia fell to her knees, desperation carving deep lines into her face. "I was wrong. Forgive me. Punish me however you wish, but do not cast me away from your sight."
"You have done nothing wrong," I replied calmly. "I want you to go to Earth. Watch Zoah. Be my eyes and ears. Report back to me through the communication hourglass."
She froze, then bowed once more, reverence flooding her expression. "I will do exactly as you command, most gracious Violet."
"Go now," I said.
Lydia bowed again, pressed a reverent kiss to the edge of my sickbed, and vanished.
I smiled.
Zoah would never abandon me.
For him to endure this pain and journey to Earth meant only one thing, he cared. No, more than that. He had a weakness for me. There was only one explanation.
He was in love with me.
Yes… he loved me. Every effort, every sacrifice, every careful step I had taken to make him fall for me had finally borne fruit.
I did not care for ruling Hell. I did not care for Lucifer, nor for power, nor for destiny. All I wanted was to use what little strength I had left to aid Zoah.
I longed for his return.
I needed to be strong. I needed to endure just a little longer, long enough for Zoah to return with the five herbs, so that his suffering would not be in vain.
Yet I could feel myself fading.
Slipping.
Vanishing into nothingness.
Soon, I would be erased completely, my identity dissolved, the physicians' efforts wasted, Zoah's sacrifices rendered meaningless. The thought made my chest ache. He would grieve for me, for a long time, perhaps forever.
Would he move on one day?
Would he take another woman as his wife?
No.
The thought was unbearable.
Zoah was meant to be with only one woman.
Me.
And so I made my choice.
I gathered every fragment of my remaining strength and forced it into survival, even knowing the price, losing all my powers, defying nature itself. It was forbidden. It was dangerous.
But I did not care.
I would do anything for Zoah.
Anything.
Power be damned.