Sophie stood there for a long moment, the weight of the kiss still pressing against her lips, her mind scrambling to make sense of what had just transpired. His words, his touch, the way he had kissed her—raw and desperate, as though he, too, were afraid of what came next, afraid of letting her go. But why? She had never imagined that someone like Lucifer, a demon, the embodiment of rebellion and pride, would ever need anything, let alone need her.

But there it was. A kiss that carried all the unspoken things they had never shared, a quiet surrender to something neither of them understood. She felt the taste of him on her tongue, the lingering warmth of his hands, and it shook her to the core.

The guards—those angelic statues that had watched over them—were still frozen in shock, their mouths slightly agape as if they, too, were struggling to reconcile the sight before them. Sophie wanted to scream, to lash out at the stillness, to make sense of the chaos swirling in her chest, but the moment felt too fragile, too delicate. There were no words that could make it right. Sophie knew these guards would report back, but what would be her fate if she went with them over choosing Lucifer now this had transpired?

Lucifer’s fingers still rested on her hips, a subtle reminder of his presence, and it wasn’t until the silence stretched long and uncomfortable that he slowly removed his hands, his eyes never leaving hers. “Sorry I had a need to kiss you” he said, though the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips betrayed his words. His voice was rough, almost hesitant, and that vulnerability she had caught a glimpse of earlier was still there, buried just beneath the surface.

Sophie’s heart pounded, her chest tight with emotion. Why did he kiss me?

She opened her mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. She wanted to ask him everything—why him, why now, what had that kiss meant—but instead, all that escaped was a quiet, shaky exhale. Her hand instinctively reached up to her lips, as though trying to hold onto the remnants of his warmth.

“You don't have to apologise,” she finally said, her voice softer than she intended. Her gaze dropped briefly to the ground, gathering her scattered thoughts. “I don’t know what it means either.”

She took a step forward. “Lucifer…” Her heart thundered in her chest. She wanted to tell him something, but the words tangled in her throat. She didn’t have the answers either. She didn’t know what this was, what they were. She only knew the echo of his kiss in her soul, the weight of it.

Sophie bit her lip, fighting the urge to break down, to give in to the overwhelming flood of emotions threatening to overtake her. This wasn’t just about a kiss anymore. It was about all the things they couldn’t say, about all the barriers between them, all the things that had kept them apart for so long—his rise as a demon, her place in this world, the stories they both carried like chains.

Sophie gasps as Lucifer collaspes to his knees, she looks up to see the demons who had thrown the spear. Chains holding it in place. "No," She gasped softly as she reach out to help but the guards approached her now and grabbed her arms.

"No, we have to help him" Sophie tells them. They ignore her dragging her through the door. She screams at them to let go, watching the demons approach surrounding Lucifer, before the door closed on them.

--

Sophie looked around, she didn't understand, tears streaking her cheeks. They had just left him to die, yet they had an unspoken law in hell that would protect downed angels, the ones that were injured, like her. "We need to go back. We can't leave him there" She pleaded with them. They held on to her, their grip tightening. "Let go, please" She begged.

They moved forward, through a different part of the forest now, as if the door was a portal to another forest elsewhere. She didn't know where she was being taken but she assumed the leader of the angels.

They approached a clearing. It was empty until a shimmer of light revealed a mansion. It was large and endearing with white everywhere, white roses, white lamps, the shrubbery even emitted a white glow to her suprise.

They moved closer to the house and a white door opened. "Sophie, welcome" A angel in front of her now. Soft blond hair, keen features and blue eyes. "We are sorry, we couldn't have been there for when you fell." Sophie studied him, weary in her eyes. The guards released their grip and her arms fell to her sides.

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions but here you are safe. Come... Come inside" He spoke with an authoritive softness. He turned to lead the way. Sophie stepped forward as the guards shrunk back, leaving her with this stranger.

"I didn't get your name" Sophie says confused. "Azazel" He spoke, his eyes lighting at her. He led the way inside. Everything was a mixture of extravengant gold and white colours.

"I...I left someone to die" Sophie said quietly, almost inaudiable. Azazel turned to face her now. "That demon?" He questions, almost with a certain venom. "Those demons let humans cut us to pieces" His words jarring on Sophie's ears.

"What do the humans do exactly?" Azazel led the way to a lounge area, dictacting her to sit. "That's not for you to concern...." "But it is... They had their hands on me" Sophie bit out, her hazel eyes laced with venom.

"Sophie...You're safe. That's all that matters. The humans cannot hurt you here. Nor can the demons. I'm just sorry we didn't get to you quick enough" Azazel said.

Sophie shakes her head "Please...He saved me" "ENOUGH!" Azazel shouted at her, raising from his seat. "No more demon talk, they are no good for us, we've been cast out of heaven and now we have to try and survive with both humans and demons trying to hunt and kill us, so I would appreciate if you take your mind of whatever it is with this one demon - He will end up getting you killed or worse."

She gasped at his words, tears starting to well in her eyes again. She crumpled the familiar blue dress in her hands, caked in dirt, blood and laced with holes.

"Come on" Azazel said gently, walking over to her, lifting her to her feet. "I'll show you your room and you can get cleaned up."

--

Azazel showed Sophie her room, as with everything else matching in the house, everything was white, or gold.

"Here. Get yourself cleaned up" He waved his hand to the bathchamber. "We shall see you in a bit" He didn't smile, he turned to leave and gently shut the door behind him.

Sophie couldn't help but feel helpless in that moment. More so than any of the other experiences she had, had that day. She walked over to the window staring in the direction that Lucifer could be.

Once Sophie had gotten changed, she exited her room and made her way down the wide arching staircase. The faint creak of the wooden steps echoed softly underfoot as she descended. The house had a quiet, almost reverent atmosphere, with the high ceilings and old, dark wood beams lending the place a sense of timelessness. At the foot of the stairs, she paused, peering around the archway that led into the living room. Her eyes took in the space—spacious, elegant, yet oddly subdued. The sofas were a soft cream, blending seamlessly into the neutral tones of the room. Their plush cushions seemed to invite her to sink into them, but it was the figure sitting on one that caught her attention.

Azazel.

He looked up as she entered, his gaze shifting to meet hers. There was a quiet intensity in his eyes, something unreadable but heavy, as though he was constantly measuring the room, the people in it, and perhaps even her. Without a word, he stood, his movement smooth and fluid, as though he was used to commanding attention without ever raising his voice.

"Ah... there you are," he said, his voice unexpectedly gentle, warm even. He gestured toward the sofa, a silent invitation for her to sit. The softness of his tone made her feel strangely at ease, despite the heaviness that seemed to hang around them.

Sophie hesitated for a moment before crossing the room. She wore white jeans and a simple white top—clothes that fit her frame comfortably but with a clear design to accommodate her wings. The wings, however, were a different story. They hung loosely from her back, their once-pristine feathers now a mess of jagged edges, frayed and torn from whatever ordeal they’d gone through. She could feel the weight of them, both physically and emotionally.

When she sat down on the sofa, a cool, crystal-clear glass of lemon ice water appeared in front of her on the coffee table. Sophie blinked in surprise, a small smile tugging at her lips as she wrapped her hands around the glass, savoring the refreshing chill against her skin. It was a simple gesture, but one that carried a strange sense of comfort, as if Azazel knew just what she needed without asking.

She glanced around the room, her gaze drifting over the soft textures of the decor—creamy whites and golds, abstract paintings that seemed to dance in the dim light, giving the space an air of understated elegance. It was beautiful, in its way, yet there was a certain coldness to it all, as if the house itself was too grand for the people living within it.

"Where is everyone else?" Sophie asked, her voice quiet, tinged with curiosity.

Azazel’s eyes twinkled as he leaned back slightly, his demeanor unruffled by her question. "Ah... I knew that would come sooner rather than later," he said, his tone laced with a soft humor. "But everyone has to work around here in order to survive. The females tend to all the homely needs—cooking, cleaning, organising, that sort of thing—while the males are investigating the situation, trying to keep everyone safe." His lips curled into a small smile, the humor still present in his eyes. "We all live under this roof, though. Meal times can get a bit exciting, let’s say." His tone turned mischievous, but there was a warmth in it, a playful edge to his words.

Sophie nodded, taking in his explanation. She shifted her gaze around the room again, admiring the delicate balance of light and texture in the space. It was a place that seemed to hold secrets, both in its design and its inhabitants. But she could also feel the tension lingering in the air, the unspoken histories and unaddressed pain that lay just beneath the surface.

She drew her gaze back to Azazel. He was watching her with a quiet, steady focus, as though he was waiting for something. Sophie hesitated for a moment, before her voice broke the silence again.

"How do you fancy yourself a place here?" he asked, his eyes searching hers as if trying to gauge her intentions.

Sophie flicked her gaze to him, her heart skipping a beat. She hadn’t expected him to ask that directly. She wasn’t sure what place she wanted, or if she even deserved one. The weight of her past, her own fractured memories, all hung over her like a cloud she couldn’t escape. Yet, there was something about this place, something about Azazel’s calm presence, that made her feel… wanted, in a way. Needed, perhaps.

"I would like that very much…" she said softly, the words feeling heavier as they left her lips. A small knot formed in her stomach as she spoke, and her mind flashed to Lucifer. The image of him, bloodied and broken, being dragged away, was still fresh in her mind. She couldn’t just ignore what had happened, could she? She couldn't turn her back on him, not after everything. But could she do anything?

Sophie blinked and quickly pushed the thoughts aside. She didn’t want to bring the weight of it into this moment, not now. But as if on cue, she felt Azazel’s eyes on her, a look of concern flashing briefly across his features. He studied her, as though sensing the internal struggle.

For a moment, the silence between them stretched out, thick with unspoken understanding. Azazel’s gaze softened, and then, almost imperceptibly, he waved his hand as if to dismiss her thoughts. "So," she said, her tone casual, "why was I cast out of heaven?"

Azazel raised an eyebrow, surprised by the sudden shift in conversation. "Don’t know," he replied, his voice still soft but with a slight edge of intrigue. "You should be the one telling us that."

Sophie’s lips curved into a faint, almost enigmatic smile. "Well, what was your reason?" she asked, her eyes twinkling with a mixture of amusement and curiosity.

Sophie tilted her head slightly, feeling the damp strands of her hair brush against her neck. She wasn’t sure how to answer him. The question felt… personal, in a way. It made her feel vulnerable, exposed. Yet there was something in Azazel’s gaze that made her want to open up, just a little.

But then, something shifted in his expression. His eyes darkened, and the air between them seemed to crackle with an unspoken intensity. For a brief moment, she saw a flash of anger—raw and dangerous—in his gaze, though it was gone almost as quickly as it had appeared.

Sophie’s heart skipped a beat. She could sense the weight of the question, the history behind it. Without a word, she took a slow, deliberate sip from the glass of water in front of her, letting the coolness soothe her nerves. She would let the silence stretch, for now. She didn’t dare ask again.

Azazel seemed to read the hesitation in her, and after a long moment, he relaxed, the anger in his eyes fading away. "Let’s leave that for another time," he said, his voice quieter now, as though he had made a conscious decision to let it go.

Sophie nodded, grateful for the shift in conversation. For now, she would allow herself to just be—to settle into this strange, uncertain place that had somehow become her new reality.

Sophie heard a familiar voice and jumped up when Azazel lept into action. She swung her head, her doe eyes brimming with happiness to see Lucifer and what appeared to be a young girl with him, just behind him. His wings, although damaged, flared as he confronted Azazel.

"Guards!" He shouted, his wings flaring also with the threat, almost blocking Sophie from moving forward to approach Lucifer.

Sophie couldn't respond to Lucifer's question before Azazel cut him off. She watched the commotion, her mind reeling with what was happening. She didn't know if she could make sense of it all. Why would Lucifer bring her here if just to be faced with yet another demon?

"Azazel... Where are all the other angels?" She questioned him, her tone sharp, turning to face him. He growled, turning to snap at her. She tried to press again to learn what was going on but before she could open her mouth, Azazel struck out a wing and smacked Sophie across the face, the force making her fly over the sofa.

Azazel, satisfied when Sophie was now lying on the floor, a split lip, leaking blood everywhere, her wings slightly odd, he turned to Lucifer and attacked him.

Sophie pushed herself up as as she gasped as Azazel launched himsel through the air at Lucifer. She felt afraid but also the little girl she had seen with Lucifer. Why would he save her, if he wasn't good? She rose and stumbled over to Valerie. "Are you ok? I think we should go" She said tugging on her arm, begging her to follow. The males couldn't be trusted until they figured out who was going to be the alpha and she didn't want her and Valerie to end up in even more danger.

She lead Valerie to the door and slipped out. The guards around her forzen in time. She waved a hand in front of one of their faces to see if they would move but they didn't even blink. "Come on, let's get out of here" She urged, leading the way back into the forest.

She started off into a run with Valerie by herside. "Run...I don't trust them".