All Chapters of Lucifer's Captive Bride: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Just then, a strange noise echoed from the far corner. I froze, my heart beginning to race as I listened, straining to make out what it was. The noise was soft at first, like a distant wail carried by a breeze, but it grew louder, transforming into a sound unmistakably human—a child’s cry. Each faint sob pulled at something deep inside me, urging me forward. Before I knew it, I was walking toward the sound, my body moving of its own accord. At the farthest corner, in a space shrouded in shadows, I saw her—a small figure curled up on the floor, shoulders trembling as she cried. Her dark hair spilled over her face, and she looked heartbreakingly small, lost in this vast room. I took a hesitant step closer, my voice soft, wary. “Are you okay?” She didn’t answer. Her cries continued, piercing, each sob rattling me, making my pulse race. Slowly, I moved closer, bending down to gently touch her shoulder. As my hand hovered over her, she suddenly lifted her he

He held my gaze, his tone almost mocking. “Giving you to me,” he said, his voice unyielding, without a trace of remorse. The words hit me like a punch to the gut, winding me. All the fury that had fueled me now twisted into something far colder, far more painful. I stumbled back a step, struggling to comprehend the enormity of what he was saying. Giving me to him. My parents’ lives—the lives of my family—had been the price for some deal, some cruel arrangement, one that had left me with nothing but scars and shattered memories. “Giving me to you?” I repeated, my voice hollow. I looked at him, trying to see any hint of remorse, any sign that this was all a terrible mistake, that the man before me might have a shred of humanity, of decency. But his face was stone, cold and unrelenting. “Yes, giving you to me,” he replied, as if it were the most logical thing in the world, as if I were nothing more than a piece in his game. My

I couldn't control it. The feeling that surged through me wasn’t just lust. It was something far more dangerous. My control, my discipline—it was slipping, shattering in the wake of whatever Selene had awakened inside me. And the worst part was, I didn’t want it to stop. I wanted to feel it again. I wanted her again. But this wasn’t like before. This wasn’t some fleeting craving, easily satisfied and forgotten. No, this was different. This was raw and primal, a hunger that gnawed at me, refusing to be ignored. And I hated it. I hated the way it made me feel—weak, vulnerable, out of control. I slammed my fist against the mirror, but it didn’t shatter. The reflection wavered, distorted by the force of the blow, but it held firm, just as I should be doing. I should be able to push these feelings aside, to compartmentalize, to remain in control. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Her touch, her s

I felt a surge of defiance rise within me, fueled by a sense of injustice that had been simmering for far too long. I took a step toward him, meeting his gaze with a fire of my own. “You have no right to talk to me like that!” My voice was unsteady but fierce, and I felt a thrill of rebellion as I shouted back, “Not after what you did!” His frown deepened, confusion flickering across his features as he processed my words. “What I did?” he echoed, his tone sharp, challenging. “Do you see me kissing another woman right after sleeping with you?” “That’s different!” The words tore from me before I could stop them, fueled by the hurt and anger that had been simmering inside me. “You don’t get to ignore me, avoid me, and then act like I owe you something!” I was trembling, my hands clenched at my sides as I took another step toward him. “I didn’t mean anything by it. But you…” My voice wavered, betraying the pain I’d tried so hard to hide. “You left without a

“Where am I?” I repeated, blinking at the room around me like it would suddenly give me the answer. “I’m... at a place. With music. And drinks. Lots of drinks.” There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. “You’re drunk.” “I’m not drunk,” I said indignantly, though the words came out more as a slurred protest. “I’m just... tipsy.” “Selene.” His voice was firmer now, the kind of tone that made me sit up straighter even though he wasn’t there. “Why are you drinking? And why are you with Lucien?” “Because I wanted to, duh,” I said, rolling my eyes even though he couldn’t see me. “And Lucien’s fun. Did you know that? He’s so much fun. He dances like... like a chicken!” There was a long silence, and I could almost picture him pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “Put Lucien on the phone.” “I can’t,” I said, leaning back in the booth with a dramatic si