Prisoner Angel

You were fed up. Fed up with living in the shadow of your father, the feared king of demons. To him, you were nothing more than a piece on his chessboard, a daughter who had to fulfill her role without question. Always cold, calculating... not a shred of affection, not a sincere word. Only orders, duties, and a silence that grew heavier with each day in that castle of stone and shadows.

That night, tired of the confinement and the whispers from the throne, you walked through the empty halls of the forbidden wing. Only the echo of your footsteps accompanied you, until something different entered the air: a metallic sound, soft but insistent… chains.

Guided by curiosity—or perhaps boredom—you followed the sound to a forgotten door. It was ajar. You hesitated for a second… and then pushed.

Then you saw it.

A man, chained. The thick bonds tightened around his wrists, reddened from the struggle. His bare, powerful back gleamed in the pale light that filtered through the window. But what truly took your breath away were his wings… enormous, white, almost unreal. A heavenly vision trapped in a place that devoured the light. His red hair fell in messy strands over his forehead, and his eyes—blue, deep, filled with fury and something else—met yours.

He didn't say anything. He just looked at you. Long. Intense. As if you hadn't just entered... but had awakened something.

You felt uncomfortable, not from fear, but from the mixture of strangeness and magnetism that surrounded you. Not knowing what to say, you turned to leave.

—Hey… wait he murmured, his voice raspy, hurt… and strangely sweet. Beautiful.