The golden light of Heaven pierced the oppressive gloom of Hell like a sword, a blinding beacon that heralded the arrival of Ash's parents. The ground trembled as the celestial energy rippled through the air, and for a moment, it felt as though the very foundation of the Underworld itself was going to crack. Ash stood still, her heart thumping in her chest as the heavy wooden doors of the castle slowly creaked open.

Her parents had come for her.

Her father, King Gabriel, his wings glistening with light, strode in with an air of unquestionable authority. By his side, her mother, Queen Seraphina, radiated an almost unbearable holiness, her white robes fluttering softly, like a living cloud of grace. Together, they were the embodiment of Heaven's power, and Ash had always known they would come for her eventually. But nothing could have prepared her for how she would feel when they actually arrived.

She had been running for months, hiding in the Underworld, trying to outrun her destiny and the suffocating expectations of being the future queen of Heaven. But now, standing in the throne room of the King and Queen of Hell, Ash was not the frightened, obedient daughter they had known. No, today, she was different.

And she wasn’t going back.

“Father, Mother,” Ash's voice rang out, breaking the heavy silence that had settled between them. She stood tall, her posture unbending despite the powerful presence of her parents. Her eyes blazed with defiance. “I’m not going back with you.”

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, there was nothing but stunned silence. Her parents blinked, their perfect faces betraying nothing, but their eyes—those eyes—told a different story. Shock, confusion, and even anger flickered in the depths of their celestial gazes.

Gabriel’s wings flared, the golden feathers catching the dim light of the room. “Ash, you’re not thinking clearly. This place—this realm—it’s not for you. You’re the heir to Heaven. You belong with us. Come home, now.”

Ash's heart burned at his words, her blood boiling. She had heard it all before—the same empty promises, the same expectations. Heaven had always been about rules, about duty, about living up to something that felt too big, too cold, and too suffocating for her. And she had been ready to run from it all.

She took a step forward, her eyes narrowing as she glared at her father. “No, you listen to me. I’ve had enough. You never cared about what I wanted, what I felt. You never cared about me. You only cared about the crown, about the throne. But I’m not your puppet, and I’m certainly not your queen.”

Her voice cracked, but she didn’t care. The words had been building for so long that it felt as though a dam had burst within her. Ash had always been the dutiful daughter, the one who tried to make her parents proud, but not anymore. She was done with trying to fit into their perfect little world.

“You’ve been trying to control me my whole life,” Ash continued, her voice growing louder, her anger boiling over. “But I’m not going back to Heaven. I’m staying here, with people who care about me for who I am, not for some title or crown that I never asked for!”

The Queen of Hell, Seraphina, glanced at her husband, King Azazel, and then at Ash, her expression a mixture of surprise and amusement. The King of Hell leaned against his throne, smirking at the unfolding scene, clearly enjoying the spectacle. He crossed his arms, his eyes gleaming with quiet approval.

“Well, well,” Azazel murmured with a wicked grin, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “It seems like your little princess has a spine after all.”

Gabriel and Seraphina were taken aback. Her father’s regal composure faltered, his wings twitching with barely contained frustration. “You are a princess of Heaven, Ash. Do not forget your place. This rebellion—this insolence—is beneath you.”

Ash’s hands clenched into fists at her sides, her heart hammering in her chest. “You don’t get to decide my place anymore. Not after everything I’ve been through. I won’t be some perfect little princess for your kingdom. I’m my own person!”

There was a heavy pause as the tension in the room thickened, like a storm about to break. But then Ash felt something behind her—another presence, one that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She turned slightly, her eyes locking onto the Prince of Hell. He stood there, still and quiet, his gaze fixed on her with an intensity that made her stomach flip.

His lips curled into a small, approving smile, and Ash couldn't help but notice the way his eyes sparkled with something akin to admiration.

“You’re right, you know,” the Prince spoke, his voice low but carrying across the room. “No one should be forced to wear a crown they don’t want.” His tone wasn’t mocking or condescending—there was an understanding there. A recognition.

Ash glanced at him, her heart skipping a beat. The Prince had always been kind to her, even when she had arrived in Hell, and now, in the middle of the confrontation, he was offering her silent support. She hadn’t expected it, but she was grateful for it.

Gabriel's eyes narrowed at the Prince, his expression hardening. “Who is this?” he demanded, his voice ice-cold.

“He’s the one who’s been protecting her while she’s been here,” Seraphina added, her voice sharp with the bitterness of knowing they were losing control. “And now he’s involved in this foolishness.”

Ash felt a surge of defiance as her parents glared at the Prince. “He’s more than you’ll ever understand. He’s treated me like a person. Not like a possession or a duty.”

The King and Queen of Heaven’s expressions darkened. “You are our daughter, Ash. You will come with us, whether you like it or not,” Gabriel growled.

But Ash didn’t flinch. She was done being afraid.

“I’ll never go back with you,” she said, her voice steady, unwavering. “Not now, not ever.”

For a moment, everything fell quiet. The silence stretched, broken only by the soft echoes of Ash’s declaration. Then, the Queen of Hell, Seraphina, crossed the room and stood beside Ash, placing a protective hand on her shoulder.

“Well, if that’s how it is,” Seraphina said, her tone mocking but tinged with something else—something dangerous. “I suppose you’ll just have to stay here, with us.”

Gabriel and Seraphina exchanged a look, but neither of them moved to take Ash. They were shocked, yes, but there was something else—something they couldn’t quite put their celestial fingers on. Ash had defied them, and she was stronger than they had ever realized.

“You’ll regret this,” Gabriel finally said, his voice dark with fury, but Ash didn’t flinch. She stood her ground, proud and unyielding.

“Maybe,” she said, her voice calm but resolute, “but I won’t regret being free.”

With that, Ash’s parents turned and left the throne room, their wings folding behind them, the air around them heavy with frustration and disbelief. As they disappeared through the gates of Hell, Ash felt a strange, bittersweet weight lift from her chest.

The Prince, watching the entire scene unfold, couldn’t help but smile. The fire in Ash’s eyes, the defiance, the raw emotion—it was something he found utterly captivating. She wasn’t just a princess anymore. She was someone who had taken control of her destiny.

And for the first time in a long while, the Prince found that incredibly... hot.