Chapter Twelve
Kara
The bars rattled as I shook them like a woman possessed.
When the iron bent in my palms, I froze. Slowly, I inspected the warped metal…then smiled.
“Why do I keep forgetting I’m strong?” I muttered.
The Dark One had left me in the cell about an hour ago. I was tired of waiting for rescue—and worse, of being alone with my thoughts. So I made a decision: stop waiting. Start doing.
My resolve flared to life again, burning hot. Maybe I wouldn’t find a way out…but that didn’t mean I should stop trying. I wasn’t meant to be caged. All I’ve ever wanted was to stand beside my siblings—free, facing impossible odds, and coming out on top.
I could do this.
With a deep breath, I grabbed the bars again and bent them outward, inch by inch, until a narrow gap formed. Just big enough, maybe.
I started with my arm. Then my shoulder.
The second I wedged forward, white-hot pain erupted in my bones like they were being ripped apart from the inside. Agony twisted through my muscles, latched onto my tendons and squeezed.
I screamed. Reflexively, I yanked my arm back. But it was too late.
My skin sizzled. Steam curled from my flesh, and a sharp hiss filled the air.
Panting, I cradled the limb to my chest. There were no visible wounds, but it felt like I’d been seared down to the marrow.
Slowly, I exhaled as my power kicked in, starting the healing process.
Of course he’d prepared my prison, knowing my strength.
Hades, the Devil had prepared for everything.
No materializing objects in the cell.
No fading through the walls.
No exit unless he allowed it.
I was honestly surprised he hadn’t blocked my ability to heal.
Even if I escaped the cell, his domain was the real prison.
I was trapped.
“You can’t keep me here forever!” I shouted, but the silence that followed was thick—unchanged, unmoved. I hadn’t expected a reply. Still, it stung.
I slid down the wall and dropped onto my ass, legs folding beneath me.
I should be used to cages by now.
My father coddled me all my life, sheltering me from the worst the world had to offer.
But this was different.
The Devil didn’t just imprison me—he cornered me, on every level. Physically. Mentally. Spiritually.
This wasn’t a cage.
It was hopelessness dressed as stone and silence.
I wrapped my arms around my knees and stared at the bars. He could do whatever he wanted with me. He had told me that from the beginning.
He wanted me to witness the fall of the human world—helpless, useless to do anything. A front-row seat to the apocalypse, just for me.
Could I really escape?
My jaw clenched.
If he were with my family right now, I hoped they sliced him to pieces.
Eventually, the pain in my arm stopped. The steam from my skin faded. A small comfort, but a reminder that at least my healing still worked.
Then—crack.
A sharp noise full of static pierced the silence.
I looked up, eyes narrowing. The sound reminded me of electricity. But there was no electricity in Hell.
Only magic.
Only power.
And that meant he was close.
The candles flickered, and darkness crept along the walls. Squinting, I stood and walked toward the bars.
A male figure slipped from the shadows. My eyes widened. My heart swelled. A smile started to rise—then stopped, frozen.
Shadow.
What was it doing here? How had it even gotten in? Did it not understand the danger? My father had never caught it, sure—but the Devil was another level of monster entirely.
I hissed. “What are you doing here? You need to leave. It’s not safe.”
Its form rippled, its shadowy head tilting to one side in that maddening way. It floated over to the Devil’s desk, rummaged around, then returned—with a pen and paper in hand.
It scribbled and then held it up.
“Not safe for you outside these walls. Very bad things here.”
I read the words once.
Twice.
Three times.
Then narrowed my eyes. “Are you kidding me? You’ve always been intolerable, but this is a little much—even for you.”
It wrote again.
“You’re safe.”
I snorted. “I’m a prisoner, you prick.”
“Still safe.”
Of course. That was its whole purpose, wasn’t it?
To irritate me into madness.
“How did you get in?” I demanded.
“I go wherever you go.”
“Not an answer,” I snapped, spinning away from the door.
A soft flutter, then something landed at my feet.
I glanced down. Another message.
“I told you.”
My blood boiled. The sheer arrogance. The dismissal.
Did it really think this was the time to toss cryptic notes like I was playing some kind of game?
I stormed back to the bars, leaning my forehead against the cold iron.
“You truly don’t care, do you?” My voice trembled, but I didn’t care. “You’ve been with me the longest. Longer than anyone. And even now…you’re still cruel.”
Shadow scribbled again, then held the paper up.
“Did I not tell you to say your goodbyes? Everything happening is out of your control. Accept your fate.”
“Never.”
The single, strangled word burned up my throat.
Shadow’s form dimmed to a dull gray before the blackness surged back, rippling erratically. Then it floated away.
My heart pinched painfully.
No.
Not again.
“Just like that, you’re leaving?” I whispered, too low for anyone but myself to hear.
It slipped into the shadows and vanished.
I stood frozen, nausea curling deep in my belly.
Why come at all if it would just be going to leave after pushing me to the edge?
My gaze dropped.
A single paper lay where Shadow had stood.
I squinted. The writing was faint, small—almost like it hadn’t wanted me to see it at all.
“I’m never far.”
I stared at the note, unsure how long passed, still clutching those three words like they meant something—like they could undo everything.
Then—
A boot crunched on the paper. Black leather twisted against it, crinkling the message on purpose.
The Devil.
He wore nothing but a pair of dark pants and heavy boots. Broad shoulders. Abnormal chest. That cursed skin that pulsed and shifted like it held some otherworldly storm beneath the surface.
My eyes caught on all of it—but it was the shape of him that drew the breath from my lungs.
He bent to retrieve the paper, and I caught the flick of his enormous tail behind him, thudding against the stone.
Gods.
He was massive. Towering, muscled, and terrifyingly male.
I swallowed. Hard. A burst of heat shot straight to my lower stomach. Eyes wide, I pressed a hand to my cheek, trying to wipe the flush away before he noticed. The tail struck the ground again. But just as quickly as the wave of need rose, it withered.
Crisis averted.
I’d rather the monster smell my fear than arousal.
At least he had no sense of desire anymore. Served him right.
It was that stupid conversation we had at the table, I told myself. Speaking to him like a person had messed with my head. Twisted something. There was no way—no godsdamned way—I found him attractive.
Even if he was my mate.
“Do you have something to tell me, Kitten?”
His red eyes locked onto mine—dangerous, glowing, and more compelling than ever.
“Isn’t this your domain?” I countered. “You tell me.”
His gaze swept over the floor, lips twitching. “Hand me those.”
I blinked. “What?” I tilted my head, all innocence.
His tail snapped against the stone, then stilled like a warning shot. “Don’t.”
“I wasn’t planning anything,” I said coolly, even though we both knew better. It wasn’t like I was planning to hand over Shadow’s notes.
He stepped forward with a predator’s calm. The cell door swung open on its own. I retreated one step, flexing my fingers. Yeah…I was itching for a fight.
Even if he couldn’t feel the pain, I sure as hell could enjoy inflicting it.
His eyes narrowed at the scattered messages. “It’s a male,” he murmured, lifting one. “A lover, then. Think he can free you?”
“Not a male,” I corrected with a flat tone. “And not a lover.”
He stilled.
His frown deepened—not the angry kind, the…pouty kind? No, that couldn’t be right. But something flickered in his expression, gone as soon as it surfaced.
“Very well.” He turned away, voice lower. “Probably best for his sake.”
I tilted my head. “Why?”
He didn’t hesitate. “He’d have to put up with you.”
And there it was. My spine straightened. Game on.
As he bent to pick up a note, his heavy horns jutted forward—and I saw opportunity.
I lunged, grabbing the curve of them, planting my feet, and heaved.
For a second, I thought it wouldn’t work. But then—
Thud.
He hit the wall and dropped—yes, dropped—right on his ass.
A rare silence followed. He didn’t look at me as he stood, rising slowly, keeping his gaze angled toward the floor. His expression was hidden. But his scent—that thick, burnt marshmallow warmth—flooded the cell.
And damn me, I inhaled it.
Twice.
I rubbed my hands together and grinned, even as my gut twisted. “Totally worth it.”
Even if I was about to pay for it.
His chest expanded with a breath, and those blazing red eyes burned against my skin like a brand. I bolted from the cell.
The thunder of his footfalls came fast behind me. I sprinted across the room and reached the table just as he lunged. His arm swept out to grab me—but I dropped low, pivoted, and met him head-on.
I wrapped my arms around his waist—not that I could get all the way around—and used momentum to slam into him. He hit the ground with a heavy thud, and a surprised grunt escaped his throat.
A victorious laugh bubbled out before I could stop it.
Scrambling to straddle his midsection, I fought to pin him down. His hands found my arms, not forcefully, but as if to test. He nudged my back with a knee, trying to throw me off, but I locked my legs in place and fought to grab his wrist.
A sharp crack from his tail hitting the floor snapped through the room. I froze—half out of instinct, half out of unease. My gaze finally locked onto his face.
His expression had shifted. Eyes half-lidded, heavy with something unreadable. Not heat. Not amusement. Something worse. Something knowing.
A tight knot twisted in my stomach. I didn’t like that look.