Fated to the Demon Lord (Fated to the Enemy #2)

Prologue

I was taught that death comes for us all someday.

And though it was unavoidable, an army of demons seemed a particularly horrible way to go.

I clawed deeper into the ground, searching for the wild turnip’s root, as dirt slid under my fingernails.

A small pile sat next to me, and once the turnip came out, I dropped it onto my collection.

I brushed my hair back from my face and rubbed my hands on my skirt as I looked off into the trees.

I was not five miles from the border between the human realm and the demon kingdom, Terra Monstrum.

Word had gone around the town and outlier homes that a host of mercenary demons approached.

A thin, needle-like chill stitched its way down my spine.

The human king had sent a small army to defend the border from the approaching horde.

Many feared our soldiers were too few, too young, and too inexperienced.

The nerves inside me shouted to run, to leave this place and seek safety.

I rubbed my arms, smearing dirt across my skin, and looked at my small pile of turnips. Regardless of the demons coming, my brother Gerand and I still needed to eat.

After gathering my meager bounty, I headed for our cabin. I put on a pot of water to boil, then began washing and cutting up our meal.

The small cabin held little more than a bed, a kitchen table, and a simple stone fireplace.

Bundles of drying herbs hung from the ceiling, while pots and pans were tacked to the walls.

Beside the bed stood a small, crooked table that held only a few tattered books—books I had read so many times I knew every page by heart.

I had spent most of my life within this cramped space. My only option was to hope that our meager human contingent would be enough.

Gerand and I had nowhere else to go.

Steam drifted up from the pot hanging over the fire.

I mixed the stew. The herbs I peddled in the town market hadn’t sold well this month, and money had run low.

It was moments like these that I felt a surge of gratitude for my mother’s lessons on foraging before she ran off and abandoned us.

The plants had sustained us on multiple occasions.

I couldn’t say the same for my mother.

I clenched my teeth and tried to push the memories of her away, but like thorns piercing skin, they pushed their way in.

How she had left that morning five years ago, promising to return at nightfall—how my brother and I had waited for her late into the night as darkness came on, growing darker, our hope becoming more futile—how we’d discovered from the neighbor the following morning that she had killed a man and fled.

How we’d waited for her to return, to explain, to come and get us.

She never returned, leaving a seventeen-year-old girl struggling each day to keep herself and a seven-year-old Gerand alive amid a town that treated us as outcasts due to her murderous actions.

Time had passed since then. I was older, and yet the fight for survival remained. It always remained.

The door to the cabin burst open, and I jumped. In walked my now twelve-year-old brother, Gerand. A bright smile crossed his face, and he stepped toward me. “Denara, look what I caught.” He clutched a dead hare by the ears.

“Where did you get that?”

He puffed out his chest and smiled. “Trapped it myself. Now we can add flavor to your stews.” A grimace shook him as he shut the cabin door.

I gave a small pout. “You don’t enjoy my stew?”

“It’s… good.” He grimaced again, and I laughed. I didn’t blame him. With better ingredients, I could prepare better stew. Getting up, I approached and relieved him of the hare. “I’ll prepare it tonight, and tomorrow I’ll cook it in a stew.” I ruffled his hair. “You’re becoming quite the provider.”

He beamed at me, then eyed the bubbling pot. “Are you sure we can’t stick it in tonight?”

“I’m afraid it’s too late. The stew is ready and needs to be eaten. Wash up.” I nodded toward the basin by the bed. Gerand sighed in disappointment and headed over to it.

He stuck his hands into the water and scrubbed. “I used my father’s old traps. Do you think he’d approve of me?”

I walked over and pulled him into a tight hug. “Your father would be so proud.”

My father had run off when I was only six. For a while after he left, I thought I’d found a new father in Gerand’s Pa. But he died half a year before my mother abandoned us. I knew death wasn’t the same as someone choosing to leave, but in my heart, the ache felt damn near identical.

“All right, all right,” Gerand said, pushing away. “I didn’t mean for you to get huggy about it.”

I feigned offense, not allowing his attitude to deter me. “Ah, what do you mean? You don’t want a little hug from your big sister?” I moved closer, my arms wide.

“Denara, stop!” But he smiled as I chased him around the small cabin. He got stuck trying to duck under the table, and my heart warmed at his peals of laughter.

We made do as we were.

We didn’t need anybody else.

After dinner, we wrapped ourselves in scratchy yet familiar woolen blankets and read aged, tattered books by the fire. When we reached the part where the knight faced the dragon, Gerand frowned.

He sat up from his resting spot by the hearth, gazing intently into my eyes with their verdant hue. “When I was out trapping, I saw the demon campfires on our border. There are a lot of them, Denara.”

I shut my book and slid beside him. “We’ll be okay.

Even if the army can’t hold them off, they will at least give us enough warning to escape if we need to.

” I’d packed some essentials in case we had to run, but I hoped it wouldn’t come to that because we didn’t have everything.

We had no tent and nothing to protect us from the elements.

He fidgeted with his blanket. “I know… it’s just?—”

I rested my hand on his. “Gerand, I promise I’ll keep you safe.” The words settled deep in my chest, fierce and certain—I would do anything to protect him.

He nodded, and I moved to reopen my book, but he caught my hand. “I don’t want anything to happen to you either.”

I gave him a reassuring smile and squeezed his fingers.

He relaxed beside me, and I flipped open the cover as together we listened to the soft pop of the hearth fire while I continued to read about the powerful knight who defeated a dragon.

A pounding on the door caused both of us to freeze. We exchanged a worried glance. It wasn’t the calm knock of a visitor.

It was the sharp rap of desperation.

A quiet foreboding rippled through my limbs as I went to the door. “Who is it?” I called without opening it.

“Please open up! They’re coming!”

I recognized the voice of my neighbor, John, Mira’s husband.

Even though most of the town avoided us, John and Mira had always shown kindness to my brother and me.

Dread flooded my chest at his words. I opened the door.

A man with dark hair leaned against the frame, gasping for air and holding a stitch in his side.

“Who’s coming?” I demanded. The paleness of his skin and the pointed terror on his face told me the answer before he said it.

“Demons. An entire army of demons,” he panted.

Gerand rose to his feet, his eyes bright with alarm and confusion. “But the king sent an army to protect the border.”

John shook his head. “They took one look at the devils and every single man fled. Mira,” he sobbed. “My Mira was taken.”

Gods, my worst nightmare was coming true. I swallowed back the fear. Grabbing John’s shoulder, I motioned to Gerand. “We’re leaving.”

“There is no escaping. We’re overrun. The only solution is to hide.” John searched around in panic. “Do you have a cellar or any such place?”

I opened my mouth to answer when a spear lodged in his throat. Blood splattered everywhere, across my apron, burning on my face.

John dropped to his knees, making a strange gurgling sound as he fought for breath. I pressed my hand to my lips to stifle my scream. His complexion turned a ghastly blue, his eyes unfocused, then he toppled over.

I glanced up and met the gaze of a troll only a short distance from my front door. He stood taller than me, his heavy jaw thrust forward, and every feature etched with murderous intent. “We got one here!” he called behind him and lumbered forward.

I seized John’s unmoving body and shoved him out the door before slamming it shut and dropping the wooden bar in place. A violent jolt shook the door, and the demon beyond it cursed. But it held.

Thank gods, it held.

I spun to Gerand who stood there, his eyes round and his jaw hanging wide as he trembled.

“Get under the bed,” I whispered, wiping John’s still-hot blood from my face.

Despite his fear, he hesitated. “W-what about you?”

“They saw me, but not you. Hide beneath the bed. Remain silent.”

For a moment, he didn’t move.

“Please,” I begged.

Finally, he gave a reluctant nod, and he hurried over to the bed, dropping to the floor and scooting underneath. It was obvious, but the only good hiding place we had.

“Aye, you minotaur,” the demon troll shouted. “She’s barred the door, come and knock it down for me, will ya?”

I rushed over and grabbed the stew and put it on the fire. Then I threw on another log and stoked the flames until it crackled. Hopefully, the smell and sound would help drown out any sign that there was a second human in the room.

I raced toward the cabin’s far corner for the ax, then positioned myself beside the entrance. The handle was slick in my sweaty hands, and I found it difficult to keep my breathing steady and to stop my arms from shaking.

A powerful impact struck the door, causing its hinges to groan. With the subsequent strike, the door’s bar fractured. Next, a pair of horns thrust through the wood. With a grunt, the horns disappeared, and then an arm reached in through the newly created holes and lifted the bar from the door.

The demon on the other side emitted an evil chuckle. “We’re coming for you, little human.”

I swallowed and shivered. Death did indeed come for us all, but I would give my life if it meant keeping my brother alive.

The bar dropped to the ground, and the entrance burst open.

I swung the ax as hard as I could.

The troll that came through the opening caught the ax by the handle. He released a throaty laugh. A cruel grin spread across his face as his other hand snaked out and wrapped around my throat. “Hello, human.”

A large minotaur prowled into the cabin behind him. His bull’s head swung from side to side as he stalked around the space.

The troll squeezed, and I relinquished the ax and pulled at his fingers as my world narrowed. I struggled to breathe.

“Do you know what I like more than a dead human?” He asked, drawing me close so I could smell his rancid breath and see his blood-covered teeth. “The money I make from selling your insignificant life to the highest bidder.”

I spasmed as I fought for air.

“Hold on, Raxus. This human can cook,” the minotaur noted, observing the pot of food. “Maybe better than our current ones.”

Raxus’s eyes gleamed. “Maybe we will keep you then as our own little slave, and you can pleasure my brothers with your weak, helpless body.”

His fingers unclenched, and I crumpled to the ground, coughing through a fire-filled throat. He grasped me by the hair, and pain sparked through my head and neck as he dragged me along the floor toward the door.

“Let her go!” Gerand raced forward with a cooking pan in his hand, striking Raxus upon the back.

My heart dropped to my stomach and churned. “No… Gerand.”

The demon turned. “Look,” Raxus said to his minotaur companion. “There is another one. Snatch him up and let’s head out.”

The minotaur lumbered across the cabin and too easily yanked the pan from Gerand’s grasp and scooped him up. Gerand struggled and kicked, tears streaming from his eyes, his face pale with fear.

“No, no, no…” I cried in a dry, raspy voice. I grasped the base of Raxus’s armor. “Please, I will allow you to do whatever you want to me. I’ll do whatever you want, just let him go. Let him go, please .”

Raxus sneered at me. “Poor, powerless human. Don’t you know? We’re already going to do whatever we want to you.”

“Hold still.” The minotaur struck Gerand across the head, and my brother froze in shock as blood trickled down his cheek.

Red flashed before my eyes, and I clawed at Raxus’s meaty hand that grasped me. I’d kill the minotaur for that. I’d kill all of them. “Don’t you touch him! Don’t you touch him! Gerand!”

My fighting didn’t faze Raxus. “Put him with the ones to be sold. I’ll place this one with the camp slaves.”

Tears fell warm on my cheeks while I attempted to pull away. I tried to get out of his grasp, but he simply held on to my hair. “No, please, I beg you, put us together, put us together ! Gerand! Let him go! Gerand!”

The demons merely laughed as the minotaur threw Gerand over his shoulder and stalked from the cabin.