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For three days, Trixie fell into a rhythm she had not anticipated. She would wake, bathe, dress in Azrael's provided gowns, and spend her days in the library, consuming information about demons, magic, celestial beings, and the ancient pacts that governed the realms. The knowledge was intoxicating.
On the second day, while returning from the library, Trixie found her path blocked by Lilith. The demoness's lips, the color of wine, curved into a mocking smile. "Enjoying Azrael's little indulgences, human? Do not mistake comfort for freedom. You are merely a trinket he has yet to polish." Lilith's eyes, sharp as obsidian, raked over Trixie, a palpable disdain radiating from her. "Just remember your place. Some of us," she added, her voice a low snarl, "have been here for millennia. You are a fleeting amusement." Trixie met her gaze, refusing to flinch, but the venom settled like a cold weight in her stomach, a stark reminder of her precarious position.
She devoured texts on the Celestial War, blood magic, soul binding, and the intricate politics of the coven system. Each text answered one question while spawning a dozen more. Sometimes, walking the corridors, she felt a strange hum beneath the ancient stonework of the manor, a low thrumming that seemed to emanate from the very earth itself, like invisible currents of power flowing beneath her feet. She dismissed it as pervasive magic, but the sensation lingered.
It was on the fourth evening, returning to her chambers after a particularly engrossing chapter on demonic bloodlines, that she overheard the voices. Lilith and a silver-haired demon, a higher-ranking member of Azrael's inner circle whom Trixie had glimpsed briefly during meals, stood in the hallway just outside Azrael's chambers, their voices low but not low enough.
"He is obsessed with her," Lilith was saying, venom dripping from her tone. "Do you see how his eyes follow her? It is pathetic. She is nothing but a fragile, useless human. Why would a lord of his power debase himself?"
"Because she is not fragile," the silver-haired demon replied, his voice laced with caution. "Not anymore. Did you not sense it during the ritual? The energy that surrounded her? It was not human." Trixie's breath caught. She moved silently toward the door, pressing her ear against it. The book Azrael had given her, *The Celestial Pact*, had mentioned dormant celestial bloodlines. Her mind, already theorizing, braced for confirmation.
"What do you mean?" Lilith asked, her voice sharper now.
"Her bloodline. It carries celestial markers. Old ones. The kind that surface in humans only once every thousand years or so. Azrael recognized what she was immediately. That is why he claimed her. Not for her body, not even for the ritual, but for the power she carries in her blood."
"Celestial?" Lilith's voice was sharp. "That is impossible. Celestials do not breed with humans."
"Not willingly, no. But three centuries ago, a rogue angel broke covenant. The offspring of such unions are rare, but they do exist. They carry both bloodlines, dormant. Usually unaware. Azrael has been searching for one of the old lineages for three thousand years. The girl, this Trixie, appears to be exactly what he has been hunting." The voices faded as they moved away down the corridor.
Trixie remained pressed against the door, her mind reeling. Celestial blood. The ritual Kai had been attempting. The way Azrael had looked at her on the altar, not as a person but as an object of immense value. He had not claimed her for kindness or even for dark desire. He had claimed her because she was something he had wanted for millennia. The realization turned her stomach, a cold wave of betrayal washing over her. The subtle hint in Azrael's words about her 'burgeoning capabilities' now made chilling sense. He had known all along.
She moved away from the door and sank onto the edge of the bed, her hands shaking. Everything made a terrible, perfect sense now. The tests. The library access. The careful observations. He was not interested in her as a person. He was interested in her as a resource, as power in human form. The thought should have terrified her, yet instead, it crystallized something in her mind. If she was valuable, then she held leverage. If Azrael had been searching for centuries, then her bloodline, her power, was not just rare. It was essential. And if it was essential to him, then perhaps she was not as helpless as she had felt kneeling on that altar. Perhaps, for the first time since arriving at the manor, she had something to work with.
When Azrael entered the chambers that night, Trixie was waiting for him, curled in a chair by the hearth, the book on celestial bloodlines open in her lap. His gaze sharpened as he took in the scene. "You have made considerable progress in your reading." "I read quickly," she said simply. She closed the book and stood, meeting his gaze directly. "I also listen well. Lilith and her companion were discussing me in the hallway." For a long moment, Azrael simply stared at her, his expression unreadable. Then a slow, dangerous smile spread across his face, possessive and utterly without warmth. "Clever girl," he whispered, his eyes burning with an ancient fire. "Perhaps too clever for your own good."