Phoenix's POV

  "Princess," he repeated.

  I did not lower my blade.

  "Devil's heir," I replied.

  His smile deepened. "You wound me. I prefer something more poetic."

  "I prefer silence."

  Steel met steel again.

  This time I attacked first.

  Fast. Direct. A diagonal strike aimed for his shoulder - a test.

  He parried smoothly.

  No wasted motion.

  Interesting.

  "You don't belong here alone," he said casually as he circled me.

  "I belong wherever I choose."

  "Even in my garden?"

  My eyes flickered - just slightly.

  So it was his.

  "You built this?" I asked before I could stop myself.

  "There are few things in this realm not built for suffering." He tilted his head.

  "This one is mine."

  That single admission told me more than he intended.

  "You hide beauty in Hell," I said.

  "And you hide fire behind discipline," he countered.

  I lunged.

  He stepped aside.

  Our blades clashed again - sparks flying into the crimson flowers.

  He was not fighting to kill.

  He was studying me.

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  I changed rhythm. Switched grip. Drove low, forcing him back toward the lake.

  He blocked - but this time I felt resistance.

  Good.

  "Careful," he murmured. "You'll ruin the roses."

  "You planted them in Hell," I snapped.

  "They deserve worse."

  His expression shifted - almost imperceptibly.

  Ah.

  There it is.

  A weakness.

  I pressed harder, aiming for his ribs.

  He caught my wrist mid-strike.

  Too close.

  I twisted, using his hold to spin and kick at his knee. He staggered half a step - enough for me to break free.

  "You're distracted," he observed.

  "You're arrogant."

  He laughed softly.

  "Both can be fatal."

  His hand ignited with black energy.

  I felt it before I saw it - dense, coiled power.

  I summoned my own flame.

  The air between us warped.

  Darkness collided with fire.

  The garden trembled.

  For a moment, neither of us moved.

  Just power against power.

  He leaned closer, voice dropping.

  "Do you always break laws this elegantly?"

  "Do you always stalk women in shadows?"

  "Only the dangerous ones."

  Our powers exploded outward.

  The shockwave shattered part of the lake behind him.

  Water rose like liquid glass before crashing down.

  He moved first.

  Too fast.

  He vanished from my sight.

  I pivoted-

  Too late.

  Cold metal pressed lightly against my throat.

  His breath was near my ear.

  "Impressive," he murmured. "You almost made me try."

  I drove my elbow back.

  He anticipated it.

  Caught my arm. Twisted - not enough to break. Enough to control.

  I slammed my heel down onto his foot.

  He did not flinch.

  Annoying.

  "You don't want to kill me," he said calmly.

  "And you don't want to test that theory."

  "On the contrary."

  Suddenly the ground beneath my feet shifted.

  The vines.

  They moved.

  They wrapped around my ankles before I could react.

  I slashed downward - severing two - but more replaced them.

  The garden obeyed him.

  Of course it did.

  "You fight beautifully," he said as the vines tightened around my wrists. "But you're not in your kingdom."

  I struggled once.

  Twice.

  The energy in the air weakened me - Hell draining, pressing, suffocating.

  He stepped in front of me now, no weapon drawn.

  Just those infuriating eyes.

  "You let yourself get distracted," he said softly.

  I held his gaze.

  "No," I replied. "I underestimated your theatrics."

  He smiled.

  "And I underestimated your curiosity."

  Before I could move, something sharp pierced my side.

  Not deep.

  Precise.

  A blade coated in dark suppressant.

  My strength flickered.

  "You-" I hissed.

  "Forgive me," he said quietly. "If I bring you to my father willingly, he'll assume weakness."

  The world tilted.

  The vines loosened - only for his arms to catch me before I fell.

  Traitorous body.

  Traitorous weakness.

  "You could have walked beside me," I whispered.

  "Yes," he agreed.

  "But this way... I get to carry you."

  I tried to summon flame.

  Nothing came.

  He lifted me effortlessly.

  "You planned this," I muttered.

  "I hoped," he corrected.

  As he carried me through the gates of the inner citadel, the screams of Hell grew louder.

  "You realize," I said weakly, "my father will not appreciate this."

  He glanced down at me.

  "Neither will mine."

  The massive doors ahead began to open.

  The throne hall of the Devil.

  His grip tightened - not painfully.

  Protectively.

  "Try not to look afraid," he murmured.

  "I'm not."

  "I know."

  The doors opened fully.

  Heat rushed forward.

  And the Devil waited.