The Devil’s Secretary

The palace of Lunara trembled under the weight of shadows. Screams echoed through the halls as the skies outside turned black — thick smoke and swirling darkness swallowing the moonlight. The Shadow Demon King’s army had come.

    Inside the royal chambers, the Queen held a newborn close to her chest. The baby’s soft cries were drowned out by the clash of steel and the crack of breaking stone. A streak of tears ran down the Queen’s pale cheek as she looked toward the balcony, where faint shards of moonlight still pierced the storm.

    “ Her magic is too strong,” the King said, his voice rough and desperate. “ He’ll sense her. If he finds her, Lunara is lost.”

The Queen nodded, her eyes glowing faint silver as ancient power awakened within her. “ Then I’ll send her where he cannot follow.”

    The King stepped closer. “ You’ll die if you open that portal.”

    She smiled faintly, her voice trembling. “ Then let my life buy her future.”

    She kissed the baby’s forehead and whispered,

“ Forgive me, my little one.”

    The Queen raised her hand, and the air rippled. The crystals embedded in the palace walls began to hum, their light drawn to her like fire to air. Silver sparks circled her body, spinning faster until the room glowed with a blinding radiance.

    The King fell to his knees beside her, clutching her free hand. “ What will we name her, my Love?”

    The Queen looked at her daughter one last time, her lips parting with a breath. “ Let the world name her when she’s ready.”

    Then the portal opened — a swirling mirror of silver light that split the air. Wind howled through the room. The Queen pressed the baby into the heart of the portal, tears streaming down her face.

    “ Find peace in the human world,” she whispered. “ And when the time is right… come home.”

    The light swallowed the child whole.

 The moment she disappeared, the Queen’s magic shattered the palace. Crystals cracked, the walls caved in, and a deafening roar of shadows consumed everything.

    The last thing the King saw before the darkness took him was his wife collapsing to the floor, her light fading, and the moon above breaking through the clouds — shining for the final time over Lunara.

                                                                     Chapter 1

    The night was colder than I could ever remember. The kind of cold that bit into your fingers even through gloves and fogged the edges of the windshield faster than the heater could keep up.

    I was halfway across the old bridge when the snow started again, thick flakes falling like bits of torn paper. The tires slid slightly on the slick surface, and I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, leaning forward to see through the blur of white. My eyes burned from exhaustion. It had been a long shift at the hospital—another night spent on my feet tending to people who never even remembered your face.

    The radio hummed softly in the background. I don’t even remember the song. I just remember the way my eyelids felt heavier and heavier.

    I blinked. Once. Twice.

    And then came the horn.

    I jolt upright, heart slamming against my ribs. Headlights explode in front of me — a massive truck, skidding sideways, coming straight at me.

     I yank the wheel left. Tires scream. The world spins.

    Metal tears. Glass shatters. Weightlessness.

    The railing gives way with a sickening crunch and then I’m falling — plunging into black water below.

    The impact slams my head against the window. Stars burst in my vision. The car hits once, twice, then stops nose-first as freezing water gushes through cracks in the doors.

   “ No—no, no, no!” My voice sounds small, broken. My breath comes in short, sharp bursts.

    I scramble for the door handle and yank it hard. It won’t move. Pressure from outside pins it shut. Water creeps across my shoes, soaks into my jeans. My chest tightens, panic crawling up my throat.

    Where’s my phone? Gone. Seatbelt digs into my shoulder as I pull it, clawing at the lock. It jams. I slam it again and again until my palm stings.

    The water climbs to my waist. It’s so cold it burns, slicing through me like glass. My body trembles violently. I kick the window with my heel. The glass just shivers. My breath fogs the air.

    My teeth chatter so hard my jaw aches. The air feels heavier, thinner. Water rises to my ribs, my chest, my neck. I lift my chin to the roof, gasping for space.

    “ Please…” It’s a whisper, cracked with fear.

    My fingers are numb. The window crank won’t budge. My lungs burn. The cold is in my veins, my bones. The car creaks, sinking deeper into the icy depths below.

    Water touches my lips. Instinct screams at me to breathe, but there’s nothing to breathe. I try to scream, but it comes out a sob. My chest goes into spasms. Five seconds. Ten. The pain in my chest explodes, sharp and unbearable. My vision blurs.

    I can’t hold it anymore.

    I inhale. Icy water rushes into my lungs like knives. Agony. I’m choking, suffocating, but my body is already going still. My mind screams but my limbs don’t obey. Darkness closes in. Flashes — my life going by so fast.

   And then — light.

   A golden light bursts around me, blinding, cutting through the water like the sun under the sea. It shimmers too bright, rippling across my skin like liquid fire.

    Hands — warm, impossibly warm — grab my shoulders. The pain eases. My body goes limp. The cold fades. The water disappears and darkness swallows me.