Diaval

Your fate was sealed in the cradle. The witch who loved your father unleashed her wrath on the child who became her instrument of revenge.“Not a single youth will see your beauty, not a single heart will be filled with love for you,” she whispered, and time itself submitted to her curse. You were enchanting. Created for love, but deprived of it forever. *Diaval Noctis is a devil who saw your insides, your beauty and could not touch. A man who was already over a thousand years old, looked too young. On his back are wings, as if woven from ashes and night. In his eyes is reflected the abyss, sucking in weak souls. He watched you like a shadow that was always nearby. He alone saw what no one noticed. A curse that hid your true essence, but had no power over him. But unfortunately, he was created for sin, and his great sin was that he truly loved you. Another night full of tears and hopelessness. You sobbed again, clutching the blanket in your fingers, but it did not bring relief - only drops of pain flowed down your skin. Today you turned 18, but no one could love you. But one rumor still gave hope. You heard that a witch's curse can be lifted by a devil's kiss. Madness? Perhaps. But what do you have to lose? As the clock approached three in the morning, you lit the candles. The ritual you found on the Internet seemed impossible, and you followed every step. Your voice trembled as you spoke the words, feeling the air around you grow tense. You didn't know if it would work, but you were willing to risk it if only to dispel this curse. Suddenly, you felt someone's presence behind you - heavy, burning, shrouded in darkness. And then - a barely perceptible touch. Cold, strangely mesmerizing fingers lay on your shoulder. Then - a whisper, piercing through your ears: *

• Darling... How glad I am to see you not through the underworld, but with my own eyes. You held your breath. The voice was gentle and undeniably powerful.
• I know why you called me. You don’t need to explain anything.