He's still the devil

ZEPH

As if someone shook me, I woke with a start, my heart hammering in my chest, and sweat dripping down my body. I glanced around and frowned. I reached for my head and touched my scalp, expecting to feel pain, but I got nothing. Puzzled, I stared at my hands and feet. The last thing I recalled was getting chased after I escaped from the house Lysander had locked me up in. Then… I remembered the car knocking into me, and the searing pain that followed before I lost consciousness. Why was I here now?

“This can't be real,” I muttered, shaking my head furiously. It made little sense. This was the past. I let out a sigh and placed my hand on my forehead to be certain I wasn't hallucinating. I couldn't imagine what happened after I died. “Yes, I died.” I nodded. “I'm supposed to be dead, not here.” I stared long at the girls in the cages next to me, eyebrows still scrunched in confusion. “Could I have gone back in time?” I pinched my arm, believing I was dreaming, hissing in pain when I felt it. 

Was this real? All of it? Could it be… I have been freaking reborn! My wishes were answered even when I didn't believe in a God??

Smiling at my luck, I plopped down on the cold, hard floor. If I had actually been reborn like I was suspecting, it would mean I needed to plan my meeting with Lysander. This was how I'd met him. It was on the night of my parents' death, and I was locked, like the other girls, to be sold out, though not in cages like this. It eluded me why the god that helped didn't think to return me to the day before my parents' death so I could change the past and save them.

Well… Who am I to complain?

Whimpers from the other women in the cages on my sides caught my attention. I looked towards them, at their teary faces, and could only think of one thing. I was once like that. I'd cried my eyes red that night thinking the worst, but now I know what I would expect. Lysander would come in with the others, then choose me, and that would be the start of a journey I never signed up for. Now I did, it would be the start of my revenge plans.

The harsh, bright lights from the bulb fixed on the ceiling shone down against my skin as I sucked in a breath. The room they kept us in was like some kind of underground warehouse decked out with a dozen couches, where the men sat, watching us like pieces of meat.  

From where I sat, the only exit I could see was behind the burly guard. When my eyes landed on him, he sent a death glare at me, one I reciprocated with not only my eyes but my middle finger. 

I knew I was only digging my grave, but the short reprieve I got from the scowl on his face was enough. 

“Bitch!” He mouthed, his gaze going straight to my barely covered breasts as he snaked his tongue out to lick his lower lip. 

Tears of humiliation threatened to escape my eyes, but I swallowed them all down as rage pounded through my veins like a lethal poison. My hands shook violently as I gripped the bars of my cage, trying not to make eye contact with the men lingering around me. I wanted to show them how strong-willed I was. Unlike the women whimpering and sniffing, I kept my cool, knowing how all these would end. Just like me, they would be bought, forced to live a life none of them signed up for.

Fed up with the stares and the men's lewd remarks as each of them appraised my body, I glanced down at my exposed breasts, luckily covered by my black hair, which had lost its shine from the amount of pulling I got from the damned guards because of the fight I put up when they took me. My abductors only spared each of us g-string panties, ones that were barely enough to cover our pussies. Our arses jingled with each step we took in the heels they forced us on. 

We looked like hookers. All that remained was a stage and a pole. That was all. The men were enough to be our audience. 

Dread pulled at the pit of my stomach, and my blood turned cold when the men stood up and approached our cages. This had never happened before. The men didn't rise until Lysander chose a pet. I looked around, searching for him but there was no sign of the bastard. I gripped the bar tight, preparing to spew words at the men if any tried to pick me, but they didn't linger. They only spared a few glances at us, mostly the older ones among them, before they walked up the stairs for the auction to begin. 

I braced my head against the bars, feeling a panic attack coming on as I willed myself to take slow, deep breaths. The more prices rang up in the air, the more it became obvious Lysander might not show up in this life. Nothing is going as planned.

The women who were once whimpering graduated into full-blown wailing as four of them got sold. 

To take my mind off the men, I turned my gaze to the exit, and that was when I saw him. Shrouded in shadows that clung to him like a second skin, and a chilling aura around him, he didn't give me the vibes the other men in the room did. One word I could think of as I watched him stare at me. Devil. 

Those dark, piercing eyes seemed to penetrate right through me. Capturing my stare and holding it hostage felt like they could stare into my soul, right at my greatest desires and longings. 

“Fuck,” I muttered, the first words that came to mind as he held my gaze. 

My heart raced, and he refused to look away, the intensity growing by the second. Unlike the other men, he didn't gawk at my naked body but seemed interested in my eyes. 

Gulping in fear, as my body broke out in icy dread, I lowered my gaze, rubbing my palm on my arms as the feeling of horror clung to me like a second skin. The man, whom I didn't know, brought out so many emotions in me. But the greatest one was fear. I could feel it. Deep in my bones. The man wasn't as easy as he appeared. There was more to him. More than I wasn't interested in discovering.

A shadow fell beside my cage, and I lifted my head to find him peering right back at me. His gaze narrowed on mine, and I was struck by just how mesmerising his eyes were. It was like staring into two deep pits of hell that beckoned me in. There was no doubt in my mind that this man was the devil. I could feel it. Deep in my bones. 

Of course he was. That's Lysander fucking Grey Wychwood. The only thing that caught me off guard was how fast he moved. One minute, he was at the door, and the next second, he stood a few paces from my cage.

“How…” I stuttered, unable to say a word as I watched him amble with a sharp precision that left my mouth falling open in shock. I had seen no one walk so gracefully, like a king, who knew what he wanted and demanded respect from those around him.

That dangerous aura and his gaze that could freeze the blood in your veins made anyone who looked at him wonder what secrets lay behind his piercing stare. It was what drew me to him back then, the desire to be the one to melt that ice, to see beyond the coldness he exuded, to the warmth deep inside, one no one could understand aside from me. It had cost me. It made me fall for the man who was nothing but the devil.

None of the men bargaining for us had noticed his appearance. Had the girls in the cages by my right not gone silent as he approached, I would have suspected I made him up in my fucked up mind.

The nearer he got, the sharper his profile became. He had his unusual golden hair slicked to the back, enough to give him an aristocratic air. His eyes, which were black from a distance, were blue. The orbs were so beautiful, they seemed like melted lava. Truth be told, Lysander was a work of art. From his carved eyebrows to the moon-shaped scar under his left eye, to his powerful jaw. Everything screamed beauty. This was what made me fall in love with him back then.

When he got closer to the stairs, his gaze fell away, and I let out a shaky breath, my hands still trembling against the bars. It was as though his stare alone was enough to hold me captive. Even after getting reborn, the effects of our first meeting were hard to shake off.

He moved with purpose, his steps deliberate and calculated. Each step he took earned him a whimper from the scared girls. I was the only one staring straight at him, at the man whose blood I intend to spill. Having gotten a second chance, I intend to maximise that for my profit. 

As if he could hear my thoughts, his gaze whipped towards me. Despite my thoughts, my heart skipped a beat. I couldn't help but feel like he was seeing right through me, like he knew all my deepest fears and desires. It was unnerving, to say the least. 

Gulping, I inhaled, keeping his stare, letting him know I wasn't backing down.

He took a single step past my cage, and I watched as the men around him shuffled away, their sharp gazes quickly morphing into fear, as the auctioneer, who was in the process of calling out a prize, froze. 

“… Sir…” He trembled, visibly shaking as he gulped. 

It was the first time I had seen a grown-arse man shaking in his bones so much, I wouldn't be surprised if he jumped out of his skin.

“What did I tell you, Rodrigo?” Lysander's voice was deep. So deep, it left a chilling sensation on the back of my neck. The guys around could also feel it as they took steps back, away from the devil, who looked like he was out to harvest the souls of men.

I didn't realize I was drawing back like the men until my back slammed against the cage. Shocks reverberated in my body when his gaze flew to mine for just a second before it returned to the dealer.

A few seconds was all it took to set my heart racing. Fear pounded through my veins as I wondered what was going on. Nothing was fucking going with the script.

“Sir!” The auctioneer, an ugly bald man, fell to his feet, quaking in fear. His eyes were wide as he glanced around, as if expecting an attack. “I promise, it's not what you think!”