Chapter 12
When Síofra was aware again, the haze of the heat had lifted. Her breath came easier, her skin felt cooler. Relief washed through her-until she realized she was no longer in the cave.
Dust swirled in spirals around her feet, the same arid landscape she had glimpsed once before. But this time she stood inside a fortress built of red stone, its massive walls rising jagged against a starless sky. The air hummed with a presence too vast to be of earth.
Behind her, Morgan stirred,his arms still around her. His voice was shaken. “Where the hell are we?”
Before she could answer, his body convulsed. Smoke peeled away, shadows splitting. Ashmedai stepped out from him, fully formed. He inhaled deeply, golden eyes blazing as he looked around, drinking in every stone.
And then-movement.
From the shadows of the courtyard came soldiers. Demons armored in jagged steel, horns curling like lightning. Their eyes gleamed as they advanced-until one, taller than the rest, caught sight of them.
He froze. His green eyes widened and with sudden, violent grace, he dropped to his knees, sword clattering to the dust. His head bowed low.
Around them, one by one, the others followed. A fearsome army kneeling, laying down their weapons, foreheads pressed to the earth.
Síofra’s heart pounded as the silence stretched. Ashmedai’s expression flickered-smug triumph, yes, but something else too. Longing.
And then-blackness again.
She woke up gasping in the cave, the scent of smoke and cedar surrounding her. Crimson dust coated her skin in a thin layer, clinging as though she’d been lying in that other place for centuries.
Morgan pushed himself upright, shaking his head. “What the hell just happened?”
Síofra sat up slowly, wiping grit from her cheek. Her lips parted with the truth she could no longer deny. “What’s happening to me?”
Ashmedai uncoiled from Morgan’s body in a ripple of smoke and ember, his form only half-manifested-horns glowing faintly, claws curled against the stone wall. “That,” he said, voice like stone grinding, “was my domain.”
“I don’t know what’s happening to me,” Síofra whispered.
She hugged herself, chilled now that the heat of dessert had ebbed.
Shivering, she snatched Morgan’s T-shirt from where it lay discarded and pulled it over her head, the fabric hanging loose against her thighs.
Then she picked up her panties and self consciously pulled them on.
She was unnervingly aware of two pairs of eyes following her every move and had a feeling they knew her panties had soaked through from their combined essence.
Ashmedai’s gaze tracked her with unnerving stillness, possessive golden eyes unblinking until she shifted nervously under their weight. At last, his attention dropped, fixing on the ring that still glimmered faintly on her finger.
“Do you know what that is?”
She followed his gaze. “It’s my mother’s ring. It was the only thing she left me when she…passed.”
“No,” Ashmedai rumbled, the word final. “That was the ring that the lunatic human king used to bind me. To imprison me in that infernal tomb. But I was not without friends. Just before they entombed me alive, one of my… associates ensured a caveat was placed upon it.”
Her breath caught. “A caveat?”
Ashmedai’s smile was slow, edged with something almost mournful. “That the ring would find its way to my One who could lead me back, once the conditions aligned. In other words…” His eyes flared brighter. “…your supposed parents -whoever they are-have been lying to you.”
Silence pressed down, broken only by the drip of water somewhere deeper in the cavern.
“What do you know of your origins, flame-haired one?”
What did she know? She thought of the story she had told herself a thousand times - daughter of Edward Peters, the so-called grocery king, whose polished family had never acknowledged her.
How could they, they didn't even know about her.
Marina, her mother, lost to grief and drugs.
A father who was in a hurry to pack her off to an all-girls boarding school once he knew of his name on her birth certificate.A mother who chose oblivion from an overdose when she was eleven.
A girl who never belonged. A daughter who was unwanted and unseen.When she had questioned her father about his choice of a university full of terrifying creatures who could end her with a look, he had fidgetted and muttered something about her being ungrateful.
But hearing Ashmedai say it -parents, whoever they are- felt like a piece of a puzzle clicking in place. Haltingly, she stumbled through her story while not meeting his eyes.
She raised her chin, though her voice was unsteady. “I never understood why they didn’t want me.”
Ashmedai tilted his head, his molten stare alive with anger and something like sympathy. “No. You knew the lies. Now you will learn the truth.”
Ashmedai’s form loomed larger, smoke curling like living things from his shoulders as he settled in front of her dragging Morgan along in his wake. “To know who you truly are,” he said, voice solemn, “I need a little of your blood. The amount I consumed so far just gave me glimpses of your past,”
Morgan surged upright. “The hell you do-”
A black tentacle whipped from Ashmedai’s shadow, snapping tight across Morgan’s mouth. His words strangled to a muffled growl.
“Quiet,mortal,” Ashmedai said coldly. “And let the adults speak.”
Síofra’s pulse hammered in her ears. But she swallowed, lifted her hand, and offered a finger.
Ashmedai’s clawed hand closed around hers, huge and unexpectedly careful, drawing her closer. His lips parted revealing a saw-toothed grin glinting faintly in the firelight.
She winced as he leaned down and nipped, delicate but sharp enough to break the skin. A bead of blood welled. He drew it in with a slow, deliberate sip, his golden eyes fixed on hers the entire time.Then , he pulled her onto his lap and started untangling her hair with his claws.
Morgan groaned in the prison of his own mind. Why is this giving me a boner?
Ashmedai’s forked tongue traced her finger, a sensuous sweep that closed the wound. He didn’t release her hand. His lips parted, his head tipping back. His grey-black tongue flicked out, licking across his lips as if drunk on her taste.
“Aaah…” His sigh reverberated low, almost reverent. “There is a touch of human here. But yes-your mother… she is the holder of keys. Hecate.A goddess.”
Síofra’s stomach flipped. “No. No, that’s impossible-my father is Edward Peters. A rich arsehole who abandoned me in boarding school when my mother drank herself to death. She was a depressed addict . Definitely no goddess.”
Ashmedai pulled her closer until his ember-lit horns framed her in his shadow.
His voice dropped, heavy with command. “Listen well, my queen. I do not lie to you, for you are mine. You are born of the Keeper of Keys and a mortal. Whether that mortal is this unworthy seller of cereals and vegetables, I cannot say. But the ring…” his gaze seared her finger where the silver band gleamed, “…it binds you to me. It also restricts your power which has been awake and waiting since you turned a score earth years. If you remove it now, you will be dragged into worlds you know nothing of.”
Her lips trembled. “Then what am I supposed to do?”
Ashmedai’s claws flexed, softer this time, his tone near a whisper. “Do not try to cast it off yet. Allow me to guide you. Else the portals will open, Síofra, and without me-you will be lost. Even one as powerful as I, a demon of fire who commands all the elements, may not be able to find you.”
Síofra’s throat felt tight, her finger still cradled in his vast, ember-lit hand. “If all that’s true…am I this mistress of portals you are looking for?” she whispered, forcing herself to meet his golden eyes. At his nod, “then you will help me? Will you help me find out who I really am?”
Ashmedai’s expression softened in a way that unsettled her more than his teeth ever had. The grin faded, leaving an expression she would almost call worried? He inclined his horned head, smoke coiling from the motion.
“Yes,” he said at last, his voice like stone breaking under the weight of a hammer. “I will guide you. I will uncover what was hidden. For you are mine, and I will not see you wander blind into the shadows.”
He brushed a claw lightly over the ring, almost a caress. “Together we will find the truth of your bloodline. And when you are ready, I will show you how to wield what is yours by right.”
Morgan shoved furiously against the shadows still binding him. She’s not yours to promise things to, you arrogant bastard!
Ashmedai ignored him. His unblinking gaze never left Síofra. “I swear it, flame-haired queen. I will help you find yourself. No matter the cost.”
Síofra met his gaze, her body feeling lighter than it ever had.Noone had wanted her like this. Noone had ever had her back like this.
“Alright, then let’s find a way to get you home.”,she replied.
Ashmedai tilted his head, smoke curling from his lips as if he were listening to a voice only he could hear.
His golden eyes unfocused, distant. “We need the three artefacts. They whisper it still, the shadows,” he murmured.
“The place of blood and walls, where the oubliette yawns. Léim Uí Bhanáin.”
Morgan frowned. “What does that even mean?”
Síofra raked a hand through her messy hair. “It's Gaelec. I think the shadows mean Leap Castle in Ireland. I remember an engraving there with those very words. I’ve been there before. Gave me the creeps.”
Ashmedai’s grin cut sharp and satisfied. “There are many creatures imprisoned there. Such places are also portals between worlds. So the shadows are not liars.”
Morgan blew out a breath, already regretting it. “Fine. We start there. ”
Ashmedai’s grin curved dark letting out a hint of his leathery wings “I could fly us there.”
Morgan shook his head. “Yes, people think nothing of a giant flying bat. And Síofra would turn into a popsicle. We’ll take a plane.”
Before Ashmedai started with his questions, he pulled out his phone, thumbing the screen with hands that still trembled as he dialed. “Merrik. I need a favour.”
Quickly he explained the situation. When the call ended, Morgan tapped through an airline app and booked tickets, his face taut with determination.
Then he glanced up, pinning Ashmedai with a glare. “If you so much as twitch at the airport, they’ll shut everything down and we’ll be caught before we start. You need to stay hidden. Understood?”
Ashmedai spread his claws, mock-innocent. “I will behave.” His grin, however, promised mischief.