Chapter 11
Eleven
James
The reverberation from blocking the Demon King’s strike shuddered up my arms. I couldn’t fall yet. I didn’t want to live, not with my Edwin gone, but I couldn’t die yet—this bastard was going down with me.
The sound of tortured metal was a cacophony in my ears as his sword slid against my own blade. I locked it in with his hilt and used the moment to lift a knee, nailing him in the groin. He was armored, but still, that must have hurt since he flinched backward.
That one second was all I needed to lash out again, this time flinging his sword down and away, using the momentum to slash into his side.
My blade impacted harshly, slicing right under his chest plate.
The Demon King let out an aborted scream as steel cut into flesh, and he staggered back a step.
Blood trickling down my face and into my mouth, I grinned a bloody smile.
I followed him with a quick flurry of attacks, not willing to let him off so easy, wanting an end to this fight.
He managed to parry, then locked our hilts again, buying himself a second to breathe.
The human vessel he occupied had been handsome in life, a tall and strong figure, but the black hair fell in strings around his face, and he smelled horrendous.
Of course a demon wouldn’t bathe or care about the needs of its human host. The Demon King was powerful, human sacrifices giving him a boost of regenerative ability, but the boost had failed when the mages put down their many, many traps and anti-magic constructs.
He wasn’t healing as fast as he needed to in order to win this fight.
And we both knew it.
“Vuheia blessed you,” he panted out, eyes glowing with unholy fire, “but you won’t survive this fight, even with her blessing.”
I laughed, a short burst with no mirth. “Joke’s on you, bastard. I don’t want to live.”
True fear flared in his eyes then. Perhaps the fear powered him and gave him the strength to tear free of my hold once more. He was quicker, a touch faster, and our swords met again and again.
He’d already injured me. I was bleeding profusely from two spots, my footwork sloppy.
I wasn’t going to last much longer. The thought brought a strange mixture of desperation and relief churning through me.
Still, I fought. I fought because I had a duty, and even if I didn’t care about myself anymore, I knew Edwin had been scared for his family’s safety.
As a last service to him, I would make sure this war ended today, that his family stayed safe.
My foot slipped in the muddied, bloodied ground, and it was the wrong moment to lose my balance, even a little.
The Demon King’s blade found an opening, sliding between my breastplate and tasset to slip right into my gut.
Agonizing white-hot pain radiated through my body, robbing me of all breath.
My eyes watered in reaction and his form blurred, but I could hear him gloating.
“I’ll grant your wish, then, little king, since you don’t want to live. Die.”
Not without you.
Determination flared, hotter and stronger than the pain coursing through my body. I’d almost dropped my sword, but one hand had kept a grip on it. I raised it, and with the last bit of strength I had in me, I swung hard—in an arc right at his neck.
The surprise on the Demon King’s face was blurry, but I still grinned seeing it as I took his head clean off his shoulders. Vuheia had indeed blessed me, for which I thanked her. I wouldn’t have been strong enough to behead a man with one hand otherwise.
My breath shuddered out of me. Finally, finally I could die. I collapsed sideways on the ground, the pain of landing minuscule compared to the pain already beating at me like a war drum. I’m coming, my darling, I’m finally coming to join you.
The Demon King’s detached head stared back at me. I expected sightless eyes but instead they blinked at me, and those horrid black lips twisted up in a grin.
“Round two?”
Gargling around a scream of denial, I reached for my sword—
Then fell completely, landing with a hard thump against the wooden floor. Owww.
Disoriented, I looked around in bewilderment. Wood floor? Oh, there was a bed. Blankets wrapped around my legs like they were in league with demons, intent on trapping me. I was…where?
The memory took a moment, my brain foggy from the vestiges of my nightmare. The inn. I was at the inn in Berengar. Right. I was on my second life.
I flopped sideways, relief swamping me. It really had been a nightmare. A memory of the past, up until the last bit, because the body the Demon King had possessed really had died after I’d beheaded him. He hadn’t grinned and asked for another round. Fortunately.
I wasn’t sure which ached more, my heart or my left shoulder, but either way I didn’t want to spend the rest of the night on this cold floor. With a sigh, I set about untangling myself and got up—harder than it sounded, as the sheets really were tangled and didn’t want to let go of me.
Once on my feet, I didn’t even try going back to bed, too sweaty and shaky and unsettled for sleep.
Instead, I wet a rag from the en suite bathroom and wiped down the worst of the sweat, then changed back into pants and shirt.
Not feeling much better, I cast about for what to do. Dawn was an hour or so away yet.
Edwin was an early riser. Maybe he’d be up.
I stood at his door, hand lifted to knock, when I remembered—I couldn’t go to Edwin. He didn’t remember me.
Grief rattled around in my lungs, threatening to take my breath away. Heartbroken all over again, I retreated to my room instead. Fuck this, I may as well walk around outside. I’d just throw on some boots. No point in waking anyone.
The town was still and dark except for one building—the bakery across the street.
Bakers kept notoriously early hours; I wasn’t surprised to see a light on.
The rest of the area was quiet, lit by only a few streetlights, and it felt almost eerie to walk along the street without even a whisper of a person for company.
Insect noises filtered through the air, accompanied by the sound of the river. I let the sounds wash over me, soothing my mind, grounding me once again in the present.
My feet naturally stopped once I reached the portal.
In this predawn hour, it looked more ominous, the metal door an eerie black with no illumination.
Only the ward offered any kind of light.
It glowed with a subtle sheen of power, an iridescent and impenetrable bubble over this whole area.
The old ward was still up, to keep people away while the mages reworked the protections over this place.
I couldn’t actually set foot on top of it, nor did I want to.
This was fine, this distance. I could see for myself the protections were in place and the portal remained closed.
That reassurance helped calm me further.
Benches had been built nearby—this was a tourist attraction, after all—and I took a seat at one, just staring at the portal. My mind wasn’t really focused on it. I couldn’t seem to order my thoughts.
How to go about courting Edwin when he was so closed off?
I’d forgotten how he kept me at a professional distance at first, even though I had liked him from the moment I met him.
Forgotten or not realized? Even though I’d been attracted to him from the onset, I hadn’t tried to flirt, so maybe not realized?
We’d become so close, so quickly in our first lives.
By the time we died, we’d often shared a bed, as it helped both of us sleep.
It wasn’t uncommon for either of us to fall asleep on each other’s laps while traveling, or in the field.
Sometimes, Edwin would just hug me, hold me until I’d calmed, when shit had really gone down.
I would love a hug right now. I couldn’t even take his hand right now without alarming him.
I liked the sound of the river. The battle here in my past life had ravaged this area, and I couldn’t remember if the river had survived it. I hope it had.
I really didn’t know how I was going to sleep peacefully without copious amounts of potions. I needed Edwin to sleep, and I didn’t see a relationship happening in the next six months, not at the glacially slow rate he was warming to me. Could I commission an Edwin-sized doll?
No, that would be creepy. Also, he’d never forgive me for it.
Maybe I’d train every night until midnight. If I exhausted myself enough, I’d sleep like the dead.
No, wait, I’d tried training the other night and it had only partially worked.
“Your Highness?”
And now I was hallucinating Edwin’s voice.
I looked up, and was I also hallucinating visually?
Edwin stood next to me. He looked like he’d thrown on clothes and raced out here, in fact, as he wasn’t his normally polished self.
His hair was adorably mussed and he stared at me from behind his glasses with blatant worry, a blanket in his hand. Was he cold?
“Edwin,” I greeted, a little blankly. “I didn’t think you were up.”
His brows beetled in confusion. “I wasn’t. Nor should you be, as it’s far too early for anyone but the bakers. I heard you when you stopped at my door. Did you need something?”
Was he not a hallucination then? “It’s fine. I had a nightmare, was all. I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back—”
“What nightmare?”
Even as he asked, he put the blanket over me, tucking it around my shoulders.
I settled under his hands. It felt good to have him even this close.
My heart hummed, happy. I eyed his shoulder, wanting to burrow in against him, not sure if he’d allow it.
Dammit, he probably wouldn’t. Still, I yearned to tuck my face into the crook of his neck and just stay there for the rest of the year.
“What nightmare?” Edwin prompted again.