Chapter 6
His mate was running. She was running away from him.
Morgan’s wolf raged at the thought, every nerve lit with fire. Take her to the ground. Claim her. She is ours. The command pulsed inside his skull, primitive and unrelenting. He could feel her-her fear, her panic-like it were his own.
But another wolf stood in his way.
They collided in a storm of fur and claws, teeth snapping, blood flying hot into the night. The stranger’s scent was maddeningly familiar, but the wolf cared for only one thing. His mate was getting farther away, the distance between them stretching like an open wound.
Move. Tear. Kill.
He drove the other wolf down, jaws clamping around his throat. The taste of blood filled his mouth, victory within reach. His mate. He needed his mate.
Then-
“Morgan…stop!”
The voice cut through the red haze. The wolf snarled, pressing harder, only to hear it again, desperate. “Morgan, it’s me!”
The body beneath him morphed, bones snapping back into place. Fur gave way to skin. A man lay pinned, chest heaving, blood streaking his jaw.
Merrik.
His older brother.
Morgan blinked, the wolf fighting him for dominance, still howling for their mate. His claws flexed against Merrik’s skin.
“Morgan,” Merrik panted, holding his gaze. “You have your wolf.”
The beast inside him fought for control, not wanting to retreat, not wanting to lose this new freedom.
He wanted to chase his mate down and drag her to his den.
She would not leave until his mark was on her flesh.
Then he would breed her until she was with pup.
For long minutes,humar and wolf fought-two wills locked, his chest splitting with the strain.
Then Síofra’s fear flashed through him again, a memory sharp as a knife to his side.
She had looked at him like he was a monster.
We need her.
We need to explain. She is ours.
Slowly, the wolf subsided, curling deep into his bones but thrumming with impatience. Morgan sagged forward, body trembling.
Merrik groaned, wiping blood from his neck. “Bro, I love you and all, but can you get your dick off me?”
Morgan scrambled back, heat flooding his face. Naked, slick with blood, he forced himself upright.
Merrik sat up, shaking his head with a lopsided grin. “Mom and Dad are gonna lose their minds. You finally got your wolf and he’s a beast. Not bad for the family dud.”
But Morgan barely heard. His chest burned with one name, one thought. “I need to find her.”
“Who?” Merrik frowned.
“Síofra.”
“Why?”
Morgan’s throat worked, his voice hoarse. “She’s… my mate.”
Merrik stared, then let out a low whistle. “Damn. You’re lucky. Both your wolf and your mate in one night.” He slapped Morgan’s shoulder, only for him to hiss at the sting of half-healed scratches.His accelerated healing was kicking in. “I am so jealous. Double jackpot.”
Then he paused, “You don't mean…that Síofra?”
Morgan shook his head. “She hated me before. And now she’s terrified of me.”
Merrik’s brow furrowed. “What happened in there? Everyone is going crazy about an entity?”
Morgan raked a hand through his hair, his mind reeling.
Everything was sharper. The forest wasn’t just a blur of shadow and branches anymore-it was alive.
He could hear the twitch of a fox a mile away, the flutter of a sparrow’s wings high atop the sequoia.
Every detail screamed at him- the sweat beading on Merrik’s skin, the faint crackle of sap in the trees, every hair on his brother’s arm catching the moonlight.
Power thrummed under his skin, hot and restless. Strong. Stronger than he had ever been.
Even as he spoke, the wounds along his arms knitted closed before their eyes, pink lines fading into nothing.
But under it all, he sensed something darker. The faint memory of a jagged voice, broken and halting, whispering through his blood.
Warm… alive… pretty thing-mine.
Morgan shuddered.
There had been something else in him before the wolf burst free. Something he had never felt before. Something still lurking in the marrow of his bones.
In the end, Merrik had to lead Morgan back to their rooms. He had stood looking in the direction that Síofra had disappeared with a forlorn expression on his face.
His body naturally sensed her close and gravitated towards her-his true north.The Skhol wolves had a whole floor to themselves.
Their family was prolific and powerful and more importantly, had donated a whole lot of money to the university.
His grand uncle Ruben who was pushing his third century often told them stories of the chests of gold the family had donated to the founders of the university centuries ago.
Unfortunately, their wing was on the exclusive side of the accommodation which meant it was far from where Síofra was.
Once there, his strength had given out, his body collapsing into the suffocating silence of his room.
He had refused Merrick's worried offer to stay with him through this first night but had bullied him into calling a friend in Síofra’s wing to ensure she had arrived safely.
But the longer he was away from Síofra, the worse the restlessness became.
A fog pressed in on him, thick and suffocating, dragging at his mind.
His chest throbbed, his skin too tight, his thoughts unraveling.
Soon, he knew, he wouldn’t just be losing himself if he went into a rut-he’d be hunting her.
And his wolf wasn't a pup, he was a full-grown wolf which had been imprisoned for too long.
Just before sleep could claim him came the whisper.
A shadow rippled across the walls, and before his unbelieving eyes, a blackened hand-no, not a hand, a claw-pushed through the skin of his chest. Morgan reeled back with a strangled sound as an arm, a torso, a body peeled itself out of him like molten bark sprouting from a tree trunk.
It stopped halfway, fused to him, it's ember-lit eyes burned like fire.
Morgan screamed. “What the fuck…What the fuck”
The thing straightened, burning eyes locking onto him at close quarters. It;s voice was a jagged scrape, halting and broken but clear enough to understand.
“Mortal. You. Mine now. Your essence... delicious.”
Morgan backed into his desk taking the creature with him, sending books crashing to the floor. “No. Nope. Not happening.”
The creature threw its horned head back, its laughter rolling low like stone cracking in a cavern. “Halt.No escape. I command. I…King of Demons. Now we find her.”
There was a knock at the door.
“Morgan? Is everything alright?",shouted Merrik through the door.
How did he explain a demon sprouting from his chest?
“I’m fine. Dropped a book on my toe,” he answered, not taking his eyes off the demon.
He heard Merrik mutter something as he walked away.
Morgan grabbed the nearest chair and tried to insert it between them. It went straight through. The demon didn’t even flinch.
“Oh, that’s comforting,” Morgan muttered, pulse hammering.
The demon leaned close, smoke curling from its jagged grin. “Why fight? You breathe. I drink. You fight. I win.”
Morgan’s laugh was shaky. “Yeah? Well, hate to break it to you, but this-” he jabbed a thumb at his own chest “-this Airbnb is not open for business.”
The demon hissed, voice deepening into something like confusion. “Defy me? You dare?”
“Defy you? Buddy, I’m ignoring you.” Morgan squeezed his eyes shut, teeth gritted, willing the thing to disappear. To his shock, the burning presence flickered, stuttered-then slipped back into the dark.
Silence.
Morgan blinked. “...Huh. That actually worked?”
For a moment he almost believed it until laughter coiled through his skull.
Morgan swallowed hard, pulse thundering in his ears. “Who the hell are you anyway?”
The answer rumbled out, halting but thick with pride. “Ashmedai. Demon. Imprisoned by cursed human king Sol. My followers… set me free. I feed on your essence. This is your calling.”
Morgan barked a laugh, sharp and humorless. “My calling? No. This is my body, my life. You’re just squatting in it. A parasite. And I am not calling you that…Ash it is.”
The golden eyes narrowed, ember-flecked fury sparking in their depths. “Parasite?” The word tore from Ashmedai’s mouth like it was a rotting piece of meat. “I am King of Demons. Honour to be used by me. You vessel. Hollow clay. I give purpose.”
“Purpose from someone with the vocabulary of a toddler?” Morgan’s lips curled into a sneer. “You mean I get to be your battery pack while you ride shotgun? Yeah, hard pass. You’re not giving me purpose, you’re draining me like some creepy tick.”
Ashmedai’s head materialised again, smoke spilling from his molten grin filling the room with the smell of burning wood. His voice rolled, low and dangerous. “Ungrateful whelp. Mortals beg…kill..or chance to serve me.”
Morgan stood his ground,“Then they can have you. I’m not signing up for the privilege of being hollowed out by a self-important parasite with bad grammar.”
The demon’s roar rose, jagged and furious, shaking the room like stone splitting underground.
Morgan’s stomach dropped. “I would rather carve my own heart out than follow my ‘calling’. And if I die too soon, you’d be what?... punted straight back to Mamertine, right?”
The demon cocked his head, confused. “You… would end life? To spite me? I will not allow.”
Morgan smirked, though his heart hammered. “So, you admit it. You need me alive. Which means I get a say in this roommate arrangement.”
Smoke curled from the creature’s nostrils as he looked down at Morgan, as if assessing him.
Morgan narrowed his eyes. “So let me get this straight-you need to get back to the demon realm. The Undercroft, right?”
“Yes,” Ashmedai rumbled, chin lifting. “I am king.”
“Yeah, yeah, heard that already.” Morgan waved a hand. “And to get there, you need my essence?”
“Correct,” the demon said, and then-mocking-tilted his head. “Coorrrrect.”
Morgan arched a brow. “And that’s all you need?”
For the first time, Ashmedai hesitated. His molten stare flickered, as if unsettled by the way this mortal spoke to him. “I need… three artefacts.”
Morgan smirked. “And for me to find those artefacts, you need me to take your arse there. Correct?”
“…Yes,” the demon admitted, voice lower now, wary.
“So it’s time-bound, right?” Morgan pressed.
“Time… bound?” Ashmedai echoed, like the word was foreign on his tongue.
“It means you’ve only got a limited time to get this done.”
“Yesssss,” the demon hissed reluctantly. “A sennight.”
Morgan’s grin widened. “So if I sit on my arse and binge Netflix for seven days, you vanish. Poof. Because as far as I can tell, all you can do is give me headaches and cheap jump scares. But you need me to get back into the Undercroft.”
Ashmedai’s jaw flexed, forked tongue dragging over his bared teeth. His answer came in a halting, grudging “Yes.”
“Need three artefacts,” Ashmedai, voice stiff with reluctance to ask a mere mortal for help.
Morgan rubbed his face. “Of course you do. Let's hear it.”
“A lock of hair from a gorgon. Not Medusa, she lost head-her sister, Stheno.”
“Great. Love a monster-hunt. What’s next?”
“Sword of Freyr. In catacombs.”
Morgan groaned. “Perfect. Small, tight and stinking of death. Not to mention, with options of being unalived by ghouls… Exactly my aesthetic.”
Ashmedai continued, ignoring him. “Need Mistress of Portals. Open path to Undercroft.”
“Is that the point when I put you on a plane and say bye bye?”
“Yes, pesky mortal.If you mean is that the point I am rid of you, then yes,”growled the demon, but there was something in his liquid gold eyes that made him uneasy.
“I will need your word on this.” Morgan asked, his tone flat. “You leave… and my wolf stays with me?”
Ashmedai grunted.
Morgan’s gut instinct told him not to trust the creature.The answer was yes, but nothing about the way Ashmedai looked at him made it feel true.
He squared his shoulders anyway. “Alright, listen up. These are the rules. I want my mate.” His voice cracked with urgency as his wolf woke within him…
demanding to be let out.. “My wolf has recognised her. She may be suffering…hell, she might have gone into heat right now and I’m here wasting time arguing with you.
I need you to stay out of sight while I talk to her. ”
Ashmedai’s grin widened, ember eyes gleaming. “Flame-haired enchantress. Body of goddess. Mine as well.”
Morgan’s snarl cut him off. “No, she is not. You’ll stay the hell out of sight while I claim her. She already hates me as it is.”
The demon cocked his head, confusion rippling across his too-sharp features. “Why? Mates cannot resist call. You are wolf-alpha. The bond strong. Irresistible.”
Morgan raked a hand through his hair, frustration burning.
“Yeah, about that… I did something stupid. Or…no. Someone else did. I’m not sure who, but she thinks it was me.
And now she wants nothing to do with me.
” His jaw clenched. “So I need you to be quiet and stay out of sight. No more claws popping out of my chest, no creepy gecko tongue stuff, nothing. Or she will run and I will lose control and chase her.”
Ashmedai narrowed his molten gaze, smoke curling from his nostrils. “You refuse me? You not give her to me?”
“Have you not listened to a word I have said? She is mine,not yours.” Morgan met the demon’s stare, iron in his voice. “Mine. And I won't share.”
They were locked in a battle of wills until…
“Alright,” Ashmedai said. “I will stay out of sight.”
“First things first-you need a lesson in English. And you need to brush your teeth because your breath smells foul. You can Google stuff you don’t know. Watch a YouTube tutorial. You’re old, right?”
Ashmedai bristled. “Centuries.”
“Okay, Grandpa. Let’s see if dementia’s caught up yet.”
The demon’s molten brow furrowed. “…What is Google?”
Morgan grinned. “This is going to be fun.”