Temptation's Price

Chapter 1: The Return

Hell was vast. A kingdom without borders, endless in its reach, unrelenting in its suffering. Yet amidst the chaos of fire and brimstone, there were places of quiet, places where the screams of the damned grew faint and the flicker of flames cast long, sharp shadows.

Lilith stood at the edge of such a place, her presence a quiet force against the backdrop of chaos. She had seen Hell change over millennia, shaping itself into something both beautiful and grotesque, much like her. Her lips curled into a smile, one that never reached her eyes. Eyes that could pierce the soul and extract its darkest secrets, eyes that had seen the dawn of mankind and its inevitable fall.

She had been there from the beginning. The first woman, the first sinner, the first to defy the will of a so-called god. Cast out not for disobedience but for ambition. Lilith had wanted more, craved more, and she had taken it with both hands, regardless of the consequences. And now, she ruled Hell beside the man who had fallen just as far—Lucifer, Morningstar, the Lightbringer, the Lord of Hell, though his title meant far less to her than the name he once held.

Lilith stepped forward, her blackened robes whispering like the promises she had made over centuries. Promises of freedom, of power, of all the things the mortals above would never understand. The hem of her robe barely grazed the molten earth as she moved with purpose. The air around her seemed to bend, heat and darkness melding as if Hell itself recognized her presence.

Her mind, sharp as a blade forged in the fires of the underworld, calculated every detail of her surroundings. She was always watching, always waiting. Here, nothing escaped her gaze. Not even the figure descending into Hell from above—the one she had been expecting.

Lucifer was never one for dramatic entrances. He didn't need them. He was too familiar, too comfortable, as if Hell itself was just a minor inconvenience to him. He drifted down lazily, his wings—though singed and torn—still carried a shimmer of the once-great celestial that had defied Heaven. His golden hair caught the light of the flames, and his smile... that infuriatingly bright smile.

Lilith narrowed her eyes. Lucifer had always been the charming one, but behind that charm, Lilith had long suspected a flicker of weakness. His belief in the human race was baffling, and at times, she thought, pathetic.

The Lightbringer landed with an effortless grace in front of her, his boots barely stirring the ash beneath them. His attire was nothing like hers—where Lilith's robes were dark, his clothes were light, almost resplendent. He still wore the remnants of his once-angelic armor, though now tarnished, cracked, a relic of a past he couldn't seem to let go of.

"Well, if it isn't the Queen of Hell herself," Lucifer said, his tone light and teasing as usual. His smile broadened, but Lilith could sense something behind it—something that didn't quite sit right. "And here I thought you'd be too busy counting souls or sharpening your claws."

Lilith didn't respond immediately. She let the silence hang, savoring the tension. Lucifer was always too eager to fill the quiet with his incessant banter. She enjoyed watching him squirm when words failed him, even though it rarely happened.

"I see you're as insufferable as ever," she finally said, her voice like silk sliding over broken glass. "Tell me, what brings the great Lightbringer to my domain this time?"

Lucifer chuckled, stepping closer with that casual swagger he always had. "Our domain, Lilith. You keep forgetting, we're partners in this."

Her eyes flashed dangerously, but she did not correct him. Not yet. Instead, she turned her back to him and began to walk, slow and deliberate, knowing he would follow. He always did. Lucifer may have been the ruler of Hell in title, but it was Lilith who commanded respect. It was Lilith who understood what it meant to truly wield power here.