"Oh my God, not again. I kept on having this dream, and honestly, I still don't get the meaning."
I stare at the ceiling, listening to my worn-out fan creak overhead. The same chill follows me out of sleep and into the real world. Another year older - twenty-two today - but nothing ever feels normal on my birthday.
It's always this dream, every birthday since I turned eighteen:
I'm walking down a blinding, golden corridor - sometimes it feels like a palace, other times, a church filled with glowing light. Always in a wedding dress that fits too perfectly, too strangely.
Then him. Always him.
Tall, ridiculously handsome, but with eyes like the night sky - full of secrets and storms. He calls himself Azazel. Every time, I want to run or maybe scream, but I don't.
He holds out his hand, voice smooth and powerful:
"Welcome back, welcome back, my wife to be. I'm so happy. Let's work together and take dominion together."
I hate how my heart races. I hate that every birthday kicks off like this - haunted, confused, and alone.
Nobody would believe a girl like me - half invisible in my own life, living with my aunt Mirabel for as long as I can remember - gets dreams about evil grooms and palaces. Aunt Mirabel is more practical than magical; she keeps our little flat neat, even on her wildest days.
I drag myself out of bed, shake off the dream, and hustle to the shower. There's a party today, even if it's just going to be me, Aunt Mirabel, and some leftover stew. Not that I have friends to invite; I've never really fit in anywhere, not at uni, not online, not even in my aunt's homemade world.
After my shower, I pull on jeans and a hoodie, tie my hair in a messy bun, and make a quick list - cake, candles, maybe some soda if I'm feeling fancy. I slip out to the mall, enjoy the freedom of grocery aisles and music in my earbuds, pretending it's an ordinary birthday.
When I get back, arms full of cake and snacks, I freeze in the hallway. The front door is slightly open. Inside, Aunt Mirabel's voice is low - serious, worried. Then I hear two strangers: a man and a woman, their voices soft but urgent.
"It's time, Mirabel," the woman says. "Lucy must return to the kingdom where she belongs. She's older now - the bloodline can't hide her forever."
Kingdom? Belongs? I press my back to the wall, heart hammering. They can't mean me… can they.