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A LIFE OF COLOUR
Last Updated:
2025-08-27 05:17:54
Latest chapter
A year to love the devil THE DEVIL'S PAIN
Yasmine's POV At first, I didn’t understand what he meant. But then the lights flickered—once, twice—and every shadow in the room seemed to crawl closer. The reflection in the mirror behind him shifted, and for a second, I saw something else there—his face, but not his. Eyes like molten copper, a grin that didn’t belong to the man holding me. “Azrael,” I breathed, “you’re scaring me.” He shook his head, stepping back. “I told you not to come close.” The floor beneath him cracked, faint lines of red glowing through the wood. The symbols on his skin pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat, and he dropped to his knees, gasping, his hands clutching his head. “Get out,” he groaned. “No.” I moved closer, crouching in front of him. “I’m not leaving you like this.” He looked up at me then, and for a heartbeat, I saw him again—the man who smiled when he thought I wasn’t looking, who brushed the hair off my face like I was something fragile. “Please,” he said. “Then fight it,” I whispere
A year to love the devil Devil in the devil
Yasmine’s POV The first thing I noticed when I woke up was how cold the room felt. Not the kind of cold that comes from an open window or morning air, but the kind that creeps into your skin, quiet and heavy. Azrael wasn’t beside me. The sheets were still warm where he’d been, but the warmth was fading fast. He’d said he thought he saw something by the door last night. Smiled like it was nothing. But the way his voice had sounded, low, distant amd I knew it wasn’t nothing. Something was wrong. I sat up slowly, pulling the blanket around my shoulders. The curtains moved, even though the windows were closed, and for a second, I thought I heard someone whisper. Maybe it was just my mind playing tricks again, but lately, things around him didn’t feel… normal. Sometimes the shadows looked thicker when he walked by. Mirrors turned darker when he stared too long. He’d catch me watching and smile like it was all in my head, and maybe I wanted to believe it was. I stood, my bare feet b
A year to love the devil AZREAL'S DEMON
Azrael's POV I woke up with Yasmine in my arms the next morning with a grin on her face. And I was about to step down from the bed, when it all hit me, the wave of what I hated the most. My time was running out, a fuckin countdown, 9 months, when my eyes caught a figure by the door. Mordecai... I slowly shifted away from Yasmine outside the room, anger ebbing at every part of my body. "I never thought the Almighty Azrael would sleep in a room with other Color than black," It taunted. "And the girl, you really think she's your Chance at salvation?" I clenched my jaw, my hand twitching before I could stop it. “You’re not supposed to be here,” I said, my voice low. “Elyon made sure of that.” Mordecai stepped out of the shadow, his grin stretching too wide for a human face. His eyes gleamed the color of burnt copper, slick and hungry. “You think rules ever applied to me? You forget, brother, I was born from your rage. Wherever you are, I am.” I hated the way he said brother,
A year to love the devil BEGINNING OF HIS RUIN
AZREAL'S POV Yasmine's smile was a blade, small but sharp, and for the first time in centuries I realized I preferred it to softness. She wasn’t trying to heal, wasn’t begging for mercy — she wanted blood the way a starved wolf wanted meat. And gods, I understood it. I pushed away from the doorway, the boards sighing under my weight. “Shadows are louder than screams,” I said. “He’ll start looking for them everywhere.” Yasmine propped herself up on her elbows, hair falling loose over her shoulders. “You make it sound like an art.” “It is.” I crossed the room, letting the pale light fall across my face. Her eyes tracked me with that familiar tension — part revulsion, part curiosity. I’d stopped trying to name which part was winning. “Fear works best when it doesn’t know when it started or where it ends. A single crack in his certainty… and the rest of him will crumble.” She didn’t argue. That, more than words, told me she was learning. Francis would not die quickly. No — quick wa
A year to love the devil SPARKS OF RUIN
AZREAL'S POV We didn’t wait long, by nightfall the list on the table was already worn soft from our hands. Names, numbers, small notes in Yasmine’s hurried script. She tucked it into her journal like a sacred text and looked at me with that same fire I was beginning to recognize — the one that meant she wouldn’t sleep until something moved. “Let’s start with Francis,” she said, tying her hair back. “He’s the easier one. He’s too proud to imagine anyone could reach him.” I leaned against the doorway, arms folded. “You want him paranoid before he loses everything. The paranoia will make him sloppy.” She gave me a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Good. Sloppy means vulnerable.” We started simple — a message. Not from her number, not in her tone, but close enough. Words cut down to bone: I see you. Delivered at a time she knew he would be alone in his office. Yasmine’s fingers hesitated over the screen only once before she hit send. We didn’t wait for the reply. It wasn’t a
A year to love the devil PLANS AND PROMISES
AZREAL'S POV She tugged the pendant at her throat, a small habit she’d picked up. “What do you mean by small?” “False sightings,” I said. “A shadow in the corner of his office. A voice on his voicemail that sounds like Yasmine, saying things that only she would know.” I watched her as I listed the ideas. “Documents. Little notes delivered where he can’t help but see them. A file that reappears on his desk after he deletes it. Friends who swear they heard him talking to himself on calls. The absence of sleep eats at the mind like rust.” She smiled then, cold and sharp. “Make him think I’m alive. Make him see me in places I never would be. Make him imagine the things he did.” “Exactly.” I tapped the wooden table once. “And make him watch. We’ll leak his mistakes at first—emails, payment trails, forged evidence implying he’s been embezzling from his own company. Not enough to kill him financially; just enough to get the board sniffing. Then a call from an anonymous source. Then a c
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