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Summary
Zariel was never meant to shine; she was meant to burn.
When she attended the Phantomhive ball to see what he ruckus was over Ciel's soul, her choices became a catalyst to the start of something devastating.
Her essence whispered to the dark, and the dark whispered back;
her demon guardian, her shadow, her undoing.They were supposed to siphon in moderation.
Instead, he is drawn to her like moth to flame,
like predator to prayer,
like sin to the place it longs to rest.When his facade finally shatters, she sees him—not the mask, not the myth,
but the ancient, aching creature that's now bound to her.Will the fire consume them both?