Seven Sins System Chapter 648. Cursed

Seven Sins System Chapter 648. Cursed

Puriel’s PoV

The golden light painted both their silhouettes across the marble balcony, glinting off etched runes and soft flowing fabrics. The wind had gentled, as if eavesdropping.

“I should go,” Queen Lysathiel said at last, her voice no longer sharp but tinged with residual tension. She turned slowly, robe brushing the stone like whispering water. “This must sound ridiculous, but…” A pause. Then, a faint smile tugged her lips. “You should mingle with others sometimes, Selaphira. Come to the meetings. Or at least talk to the rest of us once in a while.”

Selaphira arched a brow, not unkindly. “That sounds suspiciously like a social invitation.”

Lysathiel gave a soft exhale—somewhere between a laugh and a tired sigh. “Just think about it.”

“I will,” Selaphira replied, sipping from the pale crystal goblet in her hand. “Later.”

With a nod, Lysathiel swept out of the balcony’s archway. Her light vanished slowly, like the tail of a comet slipping behind a veil.

Selaphira didn’t move.

The cup hovered near her lips, untouched.

Silence returned. But it didn’t last.

“…Puriel,” Selaphira said softly, her voice like satin laced with quiet command. “You can come out now. You heard your mother.”

The shadows behind the balcony column shimmered—then twisted like silk unraveling.

From within a barely-perceptible illusion, Puriel stepped out slowly.

She wasn’t in her formal armor or divine robes. Just a normal t-shirt and jeans, her skin flushed slightly from the heat of holding a long-concealed divine veil. The magic she had used to hide herself flickered off, her wings folding against her back.

“How did you know I was there…?” she murmured, both awed and mortified.

Selaphira didn’t answer right away.

She just sipped.

“Love doesn’t knock before entering a room it’s already lived in.”

Puriel stood still. Her throat worked, but no words came at first.

She had snuck into the palace hoping to speak with the Goddess of Love alone—but when she’d sensed her mother’s aura entering the palace, she’d panicked. She wasn’t ready. So she hid. Cloaked herself in a holy aura-suppression ward she hadn’t used in decades, embedding herself into Selaphira’s palace wall like a divine fly on the wall.

And now… she'd heard it all.

Everything.

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” she said quickly, but Selaphira waved it off with a lazy flick of her fingers.

“If you hadn’t, I would’ve told you anyway,” she said simply. “This saves us time.”

Puriel stepped forward, arms crossed. Her expression tight, unreadable.

“So…” she started slowly. “You want to use me.”

Selaphira raised a brow. “Do I?”

“As Azrael’s leash,” Puriel said bluntly. “That’s what you called me. His tether.”

Selaphira’s gaze lingered on her glass again. She turned it slowly in her fingers. “Not to bind him. Not to control. Only you could calm Wrath.”

Puriel’s eyes narrowed. “I didn’t think love meant restraint.”

Selaphira let out a long breath. “Love isn’t chains. But it can be the only thing strong enough to reach someone who’s drowning in fire.”

Puriel didn’t respond. Her wings ruffled behind her—subtle, defensive.

“I’m not trying to use you,” Selaphira continued gently. “I’m trying to save both of you. You felt it. That wasn’t just lust. That wasn’t some reckless mistake.”

Puriel looked away. “It was chaos.”

“Because it was real,” Selaphira said. “And because it was forbidden.”

The word hung there.

Puriel turned back to her, a bitter smile forming. “So now you’re saying it’s real love?”

Selaphira smiled faintly. “I’m saying love doesn’t obey the laws of gods or demons. It doesn’t ask permission. It just is.”

Puriel bit her lip. Her heart was racing again. Faster than it had even during battle.

“You think I can handle him?” she asked. “That I’m… capable of that?”

“I think you already have,” Selaphira said. “Have you looked into his eyes when he speaks to you? When he thinks you’re not watching?”

Puriel blinked. Her breath caught.

She had.

Too many times.

Selaphira stepped closer now, setting the goblet down on the marble rail. “Devils don’t love the way we do. They’re creatures of logic, power, and domination. Everything they feel gets filtered through what benefits them. What profits. What strengthens. But you…” Her voice softened. “You gave him something they’re not supposed to have. You gave him confusion. Hesitation. Warmth.”

Puriel’s throat felt tight. “So what happens now? We just… walk into this war as lovers and hope no one dies?”

“You’re not soldiers anymore,” Selaphira said. “You’re architects. Of a bridge between realms. One built not with treaties—but with choice.”

Puriel opened her mouth—then shut it.

Selaphira tilted her head. “Say it.”

Puriel’s voice came quiet, uncertain. “But… he’s still dangerous.”

“Yes,” Selaphira said simply.

“And I’m still… me.”

Selaphira smiled. “That’s the part I’m counting on.”

Puriel turned, staring out at the edge of the balcony, where the sky had faded from gold to blue-black.

Far below, stars blinked in. The air smelled faintly of myrrh, roses, and something else—ozone, maybe. Old magic.

“Mother will never accept this,” she whispered.

Selaphira leaned against the railing beside her, arms folded, eyes tracing constellations. “Not right away. But give her time. You’re her daughter. She may not say it, but she’s proud.”

Puriel glanced sideways. “You’re being awfully optimistic.”

“I’m the Goddess of Love,” Selaphira said. “It’s literally my curse.”

Puriel huffed out a breath. Almost a laugh.

But it faded too quickly.

Her hands tightened against the stone rail.

“Do you ever regret it?” she asked. “What you had with him? With Lust?”

Selaphira was quiet.

Then, without looking over:

“Every second I breathe.”

Puriel’s heart dropped.

“But not because I loved him,” Selaphira continued. “Because I couldn’t save him. Because the world wasn’t ready for us. Because we loved too loudly, too wildly, and gods… gods demand silence.”

Tears welled in Puriel’s eyes, but she blinked them back. “And me? You want me to be louder?”

“No,” Selaphira said. “I want you to be true. Loud or quiet. Gentle or furious. But real. No veils. No lies.”