Chapter 3

I pushed through the heavy doors of the corporate building, praying my thrift-store blazer wouldn’t wrinkle into oblivion under the suffocating humidity. First impressions were everything, right? Well, let’s hope looking like a goth Morticia Addams would give me some points. After all, who wouldn’t hire someone who screamed “I do my best work in the shadows”?

The receptionist eyed me like I’d strolled in dressed for Halloween. I offered her my best fake smile as I followed her down a long, sterile hallway. White walls, fluorescent lighting, corporate hellhole. My nerves were already gnawing at my gut, but I pushed the feeling down. Just don’t mention your mental health history or criminal record, Daphne. Keep your shit together.

I was ushered into a conference room, facing the Holy Trinity of smug corporate douchebags. Their crisp suits were perfectly coordinated, as if they’d been cut from the same soulless cloth. I sat down, trying not to fidget. And that’s when the questions started.

“So, Miss Black,” the middle-aged man in the center began, his condescension palpable. “Tell us a little about yourself.”

I took a deep breath, mentally running through my prepared answers. “Well, I’m a quick learner, very adaptable. I—”

The woman to his left, thin-framed glasses perched on the bridge of her nose, interrupted. “And how do you think your… appearance fits with our professional environment?”

Ouch. I could feel my pulse rising. It was clear as day they didn’t want me. My tattoos, my makeup, my existence—all wrong for their pristine world. But it wasn’t just rejection gnawing at me—it was anger. A slow burn starting in my chest. I wanted to punch something. Or someone. Why couldn’t they just cut to the chase and reject me without pretending to give me a chance?

The guy on the right smirked. I could practically hear his thoughts: She doesn’t belong here.

Just say the words, and I’ll take care of them for you.

My lips curled into a forced smile, but my mind had other ideas.

Do it. Hurt them. I respond.

And that’s when everything shifted.

 

.

I sat in the middle of yet another dreary council meeting in Hell’s deepest circle, half-listening to Lucian drone on about territory disputes and diplomatic bullshit. My attention had long since waned, my mind elsewhere, but keeping up appearances mattered here, so I pretended to care.

Lucian, smug as ever, relished his role as the power broker. I’d typically be on top of this political mess, but today something was off. My thoughts kept drifting to a mortal girl I had no business thinking about.

And then, it hit me.

A sudden, unexpected pull, like a hook sinking into my very soul, tugging me away from the mundane drivel of Hell. It was a jarring, visceral sensation, one I hadn’t felt in centuries. My magic stirred, reacting to something—or someone—outside my realm.

I stilled, every muscle tensing, eyes narrowing as I fought to keep my expression neutral. I had no reason to be bonded to anyone. Definitely not a human. But there she was—Daphne—like a beacon at the other end of the line, her emotions raw, her presence now tangled with mine in a way that shouldn’t be possible.

How the fuck did this happen?

There was no exchange of energy, no connection that should have formed a bond. Hell, the girl didn’t even know I existed. I’d been keeping tabs on her, sure, but from a distance. Carefully. There was no logical explanation for why her emotions were flooding me now, burning through my chest like fire.

I flexed my fingers under the table, testing the bond, searching for the trigger. Nothing. No ritual, no exchange. Nothing that could have created this.

What the hell?

Lucian’s voice grated in the background, but I tuned it out, hyper-focused on the pull of Daphne’s mind. She was at some pathetic job interview, and her thoughts were sharp, bitter, tinged with humiliation. The tension between us tightened, and despite myself, I couldn’t help it. A wry thought slipped through the connection.

Just say the words, and I’ll take care of them for you.

I didn’t expect her to hear it. How could she? This bond shouldn’t even exist.

Then, clear as a bell, she replied.

Do it. Hurt them.

Shock jolted through me. What the fuck? She heard me. She heard me. My grip tightened on the armrest of my chair, the crack of splintering wood drowned out by my racing thoughts. I’d underestimated her. Severely.

A slow grin crept across my face, amusement mixing with the surprise. She had no idea who I was, yet she responded to me instinctively, her fury fueling the bond, cementing it.

You got it, doll, I whispered through the link, more intrigued than I’d ever been.

Lucian’s voice droned on, but I didn’t care. There was something far more interesting brewing. How had this girl managed to tap into my power, to form a bond that shouldn’t even exist?

I needed answers, and I wasn’t about to let this little connection fade anytime soon. This was far more than I’d bargained for, and it was going to be fun finding out just how deep it went.

 

The interview had gone from bad to worse. As the trio of judgmental assholes wrapped up with some half-assed platitudes about “considering all applicants,” I forced a smile, my thoughts swirling with the frustration of the past hour.

“Thank you for your time,” I muttered, barely keeping the sarcasm from dripping into my words.

I stalked out of the room, shoulders tense, teeth gritted. But something felt… off. A faint hum in the back of my mind, like static. I shook my head. Maybe I just needed coffee—or a new life.

By the time I reached the street, I could’ve sworn I heard someone whisper my name. Daphne.

I froze mid-step, heart pounding. I scanned my surroundings, but no one was there. The sensation crawled over my skin, like a presence lurking just out of sight.

I took a deep breath, shaking it off. “It’s all in your head,” I muttered to myself, heading toward the nearest coffee shop.

But somehow, deep down, I knew it wasn’t.