[Location: Morningstar Manor, New York]

"What about others?" My question lingered in the air, heavy as lead. The silence that followed wasn't emptiness—it was suffocating, like the world itself hesitated to breathe.

Zeraphira's crimson eyes glimmered like liquid rubies under the dim chandelier light. For a moment, she said nothing—just stared at me, lips parting slightly as if weighing her words with a dangerous kind of care.

"The others…" she finally murmured, voice soft yet threaded with an undercurrent of something primal. "They must have felt it too; they're just biding their time. Playing hard to get…or just waiting for the right moment to pounce," she finished, her tone dropping into a silky whisper that sent a chill crawling up my spine.

"But don't worry, they can't be anyone else, not that we want to, but the ceremony…the ceremony made sure of that," she continued, her voice like velvet over broken glass. "The Ceremony of Seven Vows bound them—bound us—in more ways than you realise, Darling~"

I narrowed my gaze. "Bound?"

Zeraphira's lips curved into a dark, haunting smile. "Not just through contract or magic. Through essence. Through sin. Through you. Every heartbeat we have is a whisper of yours." She leaned forward, her hair cascading like midnight flame. "Even if we tried to forget, our souls would tear themselves apart before they'd let us."

A faint throb echoed in my chest—the Lucifer Sigil pulsing beneath my sternum like a heartbeat of its own. I'd felt it before, but now… the air around her resonated with it, faint threads of crimson energy tugging toward me like invisible veins.

"You mean…" I muttered, "You're all connected to me? Still?"

Zeraphira nodded slowly, that same unholy elegance wrapping around her movements. "The vow wasn't meant to be broken, my love. It wasn't a wedding—it was a sealing. A spiritual chain that anchored seven primal sins to one heart. Your heart."

Her words clawed at memories buried deep in the back of my mind—blood, circles of runes, the scent of burning incense, and seven shadows kneeling in unison before a boy's body on an altar. Not my memory, but the OG Dominic's.

It was much more... more refined than what it was before. I saw much more; seven trembling figures—them. My fiancées. With seven satans chuckling in the background. Grayfia, standing not far with frost surging from her very existence, was forcing herself not to pounce on the satan. And make no mistake, she could very well dominate one or two satans at the time, but she feared, or more accurately, she feared for me. because she knew what would happen if she intervened.

I saw it—her trembling hands, her lips pressed into a thin, bloodless line as the Satans forced the ritual to completion. Her power, that divine-cold brilliance, was sealed behind restraint because one wrong move would have cost my life.

The boy on the altar screamed—my voice, yet not mine. Seven pillars of light, each of a different hue, erupted from the kneeling demonesses, tearing through him and scattering his essence into theirs. Pride, Lust, Envy, Wrath, Sloth, Gluttony, and Greed. My seven fragments. My seven sins.

And as the circle flared one final time, I caught sight of the chains—runic, ethereal, and yet pulsing with blood-red life. They didn't shatter. They merged.

That was the "binding."

I exhaled slowly, my voice dropping to a near whisper. "…so that's what you mean by anchored."

Zeraphira nodded, her gaze never wavering. "Exactly. We may walk apart, speak apart, even fight apart—but the soul never lies. If you bleed, Dominic, we all feel it. If you rise, we all rise."

She paused, her tone darkening. "And if you die… we all die."

The last words hung between us like the toll of a funeral bell.

I didn't flinch. I couldn't afford to. The implications were far too heavy for panic. "Then what happens when one of you dies?" I asked quietly.

Zeraphira tilted her head, crimson strands brushing over her cheek. "That's the part that makes it an unexpected surprise," she said with a soft laugh—amused. "Unless you're dead, we would come back as simple as that."

"This is simple? From which angle? Has any of you tried it?"

Zeraphira's lips curled into a smirk, faintly sinister, yet warm in its twisted affection. "Tried it? Of course we have, many times over," she murmured, her voice a mixture of pride and mischief. Her fingers traced idle patterns along the edge of my coat, as if weaving invisible threads back to my chest. "We've all tested the limits, Dominic. Pushed boundaries, felt the pain of absence, the agony of distance… and every single time, we returned. Every single time, tethered, anchored, bound to you."

I blinked slowly, letting her words sink in. "Returned… meaning?"

"Meaning," she said, tilting her head, crimson hair sliding over her shoulders, "that even if one of us were to fall, our essence, our will, our… desire to be with you, would not die. It would linger, burn, and—eventually—return. Reformed, restored, stronger than before. You can't… break us, Dominic. Not truly." Her scarlet eyes glimmered like molten iron, fierce and unyielding. "We're bound too tightly. We exist through you, with you, because of you."

I let out a low hum, testing the weight of her words against the lingering pulse beneath my sternum. "…And if someone tried to interfere? Force the bond apart?"

Zeraphira's laugh was soft, a musical but dangerous sound. She leaned closer, the heat of her body brushing against mine. "They can try, sure. Gods, monsters, the foolish and the desperate… they can claw, strike, bleed, but it won't matter. Your blood, your essence… our essence… It's intertwined, inseparable. Anyone who tries will find themselves torn to shreds, either by us or by the bond itself. It defends itself. It defends you." She pressed her forehead lightly against mine, fangs glinting in the low light. "And I will personally make sure of that."

"You know, you suddenly seem intellectual. With this cute and beautiful face acting all knowing, very much different from the earlier trembling and weeping girl clinging to me~ I wonder who that girl was?"

And that was it? Her expression fell, her lips parted slightly, caught between indignation and a blush that ran like wildfire across her cheeks. For a heartbeat, her usual feral confidence—the yandere fire that could scorch gods—flickered, replaced by a softer, almost unguarded warmth.

"You... you BAKA!" She reared back slightly, fingers flexing, but it wasn't the usual threat—it was embarrassment, sharp and almost painfully cute. Her ears twitched, crimson strands falling over her flushed cheeks as she jabbed a finger at my chest. "Do you have any idea what you just said? Making me sound all… stupid, idiot, dimwit—"

"Your words, not mine. Anyway, Japanese dialect huh~ When did…you start picking up little habits like that, Zera?" I teased, letting a sly smile tug at the corner of my lips.

Her ears twitched violently, crimson strands falling into her eyes as she glared at me, utterly flustered. "I-I… I don't know! D-Don't… don't make fun of me, you idiot!" Her claws flexed, lightly tapping my chest, but the heat radiating off her betrayed how far her composure had already melted.

I chuckled low, brushing a finger along her jawline. "Oh, come now… it suits you. The tiny, stubborn little touches, the almost shy mutters—like a flame trying not to roar, but burning all the same. It's… adorable."

Her lips parted, a soft hiss of indignation slipping past them, but her eyes—those molten, fiery eyes—betrayed the storm beneath. "A-A-adorable? Me?!" She squeaked, fists clenching in a mixture of embarrassment and outrage, though she pressed closer against me, unconsciously seeking warmth—or perhaps testing if I would notice.

I leaned in, letting my forehead rest against hers, voice soft but teasing. "Adorable… fierce… deadly… all at once. You're… perfect, Zera. And I noticed every side of you, even the ones you try to hide."

Her claws flexed reflexively, brushing my coat, and she let out a trembling breath. "D-Don't… don't say things like that! You're—you're…!"

I tilted my head, smirking, letting my thumb trace a slow line along her cheek. "I'm saying the truth, Zera. Every bit of fire, every tremor, every… little crack in your armour—it all belongs to me, and I… I love it."

Her ears flicked, the crimson blush climbing higher across her cheeks and neck, as if flames danced beneath her skin. "Y-You… you love it?" Her voice was a mix of disbelief, awe, and something far deeper, more intimate.

I brushed my lips against her temple, letting the words settle against her like a promise. "I do. Every part of you—mine, and only mine. And you know it, don't you?"

Her fangs glinted faintly, her crimson eyes shining with unrestrained heat. "Y-Yes… I know…" she whispered, trembling slightly against me. "Mine… only yours…"

I pressed my lips to her hair, inhaling the faint scent of her, the warmth radiating from her body, and let out a low, contented hum. "Good. Now tell me where you picked Japanese?"

"My friend—I mean my witch friend Selena is half Japanese, and she adds —chan, swan, and whatever…other cute little things to her speech. She… she taught me. I thought it made me sound… softer. Less like a monster, maybe." Her voice was almost inaudible, a small confession buried beneath layers of yandere possessiveness.

"So am I correct to assume that she is the one who found me and told you about my location when you walked into that cafe?"

Zeraphira's eyes flickered, a mix of guilt and mischief dancing in the crimson depths. She pressed a fingertip against her lips, frowning faintly. "…Maybe. But only because she promised it would be safe. I—" She exhaled sharply, like she'd just admitted a sin. "I didn't want to wait any longer. I couldn't. You… you were so close, and yet so far. I needed to know you were okay."

I raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly at her confession. "So, you sent your little spy friend to check on me? That sounds… dangerous. Reckless, even."

She huffed, leaning her forehead against mine again, claws lightly grazing my chest. "Dangerous? Maybe. Reckless? Possibly. But I didn't care. Nothing matters more than you, Darling. Not the rules, not threats, not even… the consequences." Her words were low, almost trembling, each one carrying the weight of unshakable devotion.

***

Stone me, I can take it!

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