Page 92 of The Devil's Canvas

Julian groans. “You’re trying to kill me.”

“You said I had to meet your dad,” I hiss. “I’m trying to look dignified.”

“Pretty sure he’ll just be impressed you didn’t show up in a dress made of flame.”

“I mean… that does sound kinda iconic,” I murmur.

“Stop,” Julian says, laughing now. “No. Don’t put that idea in your own head.”

But it’s too late. There’s a flicker of heat, and now I’m standing in a molten flame gown that crackles when I move.

Julian’s jaw drops. “Okay, I take it back. You’re going to own Hell.”

I look down at myself. The flame gown is iconic—but it’s too much. I don’t want to look like a threat. I want to look like I belong.

I take a breath and close my eyes again, focusing this time—not on drama, or distraction, but on clarity. On me.

When I open my eyes, I’m wearing a deep charcoal tailored suit—fitted, sleek, and sharp at the edges. The blazer cinches at the waist like armor. Underneath, just a sheer black lace bralette that hints without giving anything away. The pants fall clean to the floor, flared slightly over pointed boots. My Mark glows faintly at my collarbone, framed perfectly by the low V.

I lift my chin. “This.”

Julian stares, slower this time. Like he’s cataloging every inch.

“That’s it,” he says. No teasing now. Just quiet awe. “You look like sin dressed in order.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“It’s worship,” he says. “And also a warning to everyone else in that room.”

I smirk. “Good. Let them be warned.”

“Ready, little artist?”

I nod, spine straight.

“Good,” he murmurs. “Let’s go show Hell who you are.”

He wraps his arms around me, and off we go.

Honestly, I’m used to it now. I don’t get sick anymore.

We land back in the living room I accidentally dropped myself into last night. This time, only Liora and Evander are here.

Which somehow feels worse.

Julian’s hand rests at the small of my back, steadying me—but I swear they can see straight through me. Not just reading my body language. Readingme.Like they already know what I’m afraid of before I do.

“I see she figured out how to conjure a wardrobe,” Liora says, eyes flicking over me like I’m a painting she’s already critiqued. “One of the best perks of immortality. That, and manipulating wine temperature with a thought.”

“Oh, you know what the best perk is,” Evander adds without missing a beat.

Liora smirks. “You’re inappropriate.”

Evander shrugs. “You married me.”

I give Julian a wide-eyed look. “Are they always like this?”

Julian leans in slightly. “As long as I’ve known them,” he says, tone so dry it could ignite.

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