Chapter 6
Six
T he world around me faded, leaving only agony as I fought for my right to exist within my own body. My vision tunneled and my limbs spasmed. I tried to focus, to push him out, but he beat me back, reaching in and latching onto my soul. He sank too deep into my insecurities.
So much pain, little one. Let it go, and I will take over.
“No,” I moaned out loud. I raked my hand over my skin, trying to tear him out of me.
A mother who left you. A brother taken from you. Who do you have? Nobody.
I scraped into the skin on my head, my throat. My nails sank into my chest and came away with flesh and blood.
You are alone, and you are mine. Give in.
“Never…”
Shall we go deeper? He pushed inside, latching onto me, forcing me back until my mind recoiled. You will give in to me.
The doors flung open, and Lord Vaelor entered the hall with Throk close behind him. Everything felt distant, as though I were watching from far away, the sights and sounds muffled.
What is this? Oh, but there is more. More pain, more insecurity. And fear… yes, so much fear.
“Stop!” I couldn’t let Raxus in. I couldn’t let him see. My mind appeared as a line, and he only needed to extend his reach a bit more, and I’d break.
“As you observe,” Throk said, “they’ll resist at first. But inevitably they give in.”
Lord Vaelor glared down at me with growing fury. “You agreed she’d be mine to do with as I pleased. To torture at my pleasure.”
Shall I delve even father, Raxus taunted , or do you yield?
A sob escaped me. I yield.
And with that, my limbs ceased to be my own. I went limp—but then, like a puppet being controlled on a string, Raxus forced me to my feet.
“The demonstration is almost complete,” Throk said, unconcerned.
Raxus’s presence inside caused unnatural pain. It was like a blade forever slicing into my soul, going ever deeper. There was no recovering from this. No relief existed past this suffering. Gods, make it stop. Make it end.
Yes, you are afraid, aren’t you? How easy it would be to reach in and snap your sanity. Obey me and I’ll give you one more second before I destroy that pretty mind of yours.
“Once she yields, she is completely at his mercy,” Throk spoke as if he were nothing more than a clinician. He motioned to my body that Raxus controlled..
My arm rose, and my mouth opened. He forced my forearm between my lips and bit down. My body trembled as I clenched my jaw harder and harder, until the skin split and blood flowed from my mouth, spilling down onto the floor.
“You see, she’ll even harm herself. She has no control.”
“You dare go against our agreement?” Vaelor snarled.
“Like I said, this was merely a demonstration. Raxus, come out of her.”
This is not the end, little human, Raxus’s voice sounded cruel and certain. I’ll return and you’ll be mine.
Raxus left me, nothing but mist, but then he took form in front of me.
I crumpled onto the ground and lay unmoving.
My body felt unnatural—like it no longer belonged to me.
Blood lined the inside of my mouth, covered my chin, and leaked from my arm, pooling on the floor. Pain flooded my senses from my wound.
Throk gestured carelessly toward my inert form. “See, your lordship, she is mostly intact.”
Vaelor released a low growl. “I’m not ignorant of Spiritu Malignos’ ways. I assure you I understand the intricacies of the Final Proving better than most.”
Throk nodded. “Then we’ll be on our way. Come, Raxus, your access to this home is at an end. Lord Vaelor, we will see you at the initiation ceremony where we shall begin at dawn tomorrow.”
He stepped over my body. Raxus came after, giving me one more dark, meaningful look.
“I’ll escort you out,” Vaelor said and followed them, stepping over me without so much as a glance.
A terrible, unfeeling numbness filled me where relief should have been. This constituted my life. Torture and fear and agony—all alone. I was alone because everyone who had ever loved me had left me.
I gasped when a wetness hit my wound, causing a stinging, burning pain that brought instant awareness to me. Lord Vaelor stood over me with a pitcher, pouring wine onto my arm. Then he set it down and bent over me.
He reached for my hand and began picking at the knot holding the bandage in place.
“What are you doing?” I asked, lifting my head to watch him.
He scowled. “I don’t want your weak human blood dripping all over my home. Your arm requires this more than your hand.”
I rested my head on the floor, bitter sarcasm filling me. “So kind.”
His eyes narrowed, dimming the orange glow into slits. “Is that what you deserve, human? Kindness?”
I swallowed, tongue covered in the metallic taste of blood. Perhaps not.
He wrapped the cloth around my arm. But then left the ends loose as he straightened. “Now tie it off.”
I glanced at it and then at him. “It’s not really easy for me.”
“I’m not your servant. Use your mouth if you have to.”
He had just watched me get tortured, and this was his response? But then again, he was a demon. What did I expect? “My name is Denara.”
“You think I care what you call yourself?” He turned away. “You’re weak. You require food. Come into the dining room.”
After using my mouth to help me tie off the bandage, I was able to place my feet under me and stand. The scratch marks on my chest ached, and my limbs felt shaky, yet I managed to stagger into the dining room.
Vaelor reclaimed his spot at the head of the table. “Sit and eat.” The mist lingered, curling around his form, his wings pulled tight on his back as he regarded me. The orange glow made his red gaze appear more sinister in the low lighting.
I sat. I didn’t touch the food. My wrist throbbed, and I still tasted blood on my tongue, the stickiness of it beginning to dry on my face. I snatched up the napkin and mopped the blood off my skin.
“Where are you from, human?” Vaelor demanded.
He’d intentionally omitted the use of my name, and yet he cared about where I came from?
But there was no reason not to answer him. After witnessing his newfound power of torture firsthand, the last thing I wanted was to provoke him into turning it on me. “I lived outside a town called Antioch before demons took my brother and me captive.”
“And where is your brother now?”
Thoughts of Gerand filled me—his light sandy hair, his crooked smile, and contagious laugh. Finding him never seemed so far away. “They sold him. To whom I don’t know.”
“And you imagined you’d poison a whole army, then disappear into demon lands, and not get caught?”
I lowered the cloth and stared at him, a fierceness rising in me. “I would have risked anything to find my brother.”
His lips pressed together as he watched me, displeased about something. “If you have questions, ask.”
I sat up straighter, the questions I’d been suppressing suddenly surging to the forefront of my mind, but wariness held me back.
Was this part of his plan to toy with me?
After what happened in the hall, I questioned whether I possessed the endurance to handle whatever he had devised. “Questions are disrespectful, my lord.”
“And yet I can see the curiosity in your eyes, and I am giving you permission. I’d advise not to throw away this opportunity.”
I took in his body language, trying to gauge what this was about. Fine then, I’d bite. “Why did you attempt to hire the mercenary army?”
He leaned back, his gaze sparking dangerously. “You go right for the throat, don’t you?”
“I thought it was a pretty innocent question.”
He stared at me as if considering whether to answer. “My intention in hiring them was to launch an attack on Kingdom Misophae.”
“Why Kingdom Misophae?”
“Because they are unguarded, politically isolated, and rich in resources. I intended to work with my brother Lanzin to conquer Misophae and trade the land to reclaim my rightful place within the court of Kingdom Aeria.”
Lord Vaelor was an outcast from his government. I watched him, unsure whether to trust any of his answers, but I had no reason not to take his words at face value—and yet my distrust remained.
“How did you get banished from court?”
“Next question.”
“But you didn’t answer?—”
“Next. Question.”
I huffed. So much for asking whatever I wanted. “Would the demon arch king allow you to take over an entire kingdom?” During my time as a slave, I’d picked up some knowledge about demon politics. The demon arch king united all five kingdoms of the demon alliance under his rule.
Vaelor chuckled. “Arch King Muratoth, cares little for such disputes—and hails from my people, anyway. He’d welcome Aeria expanding its borders.”
“And you’d condemn an entire kingdom to violence just to trade their suffering for power and position?”
His gaze sharpened. “You killed an entire army simply to escape.”
“It’s not the same.”
“Isn’t it? Can you claim one deserves freedom more than a stable government without knowing Aeria or Misophae?”
“Is that how you justify it? Stable government?” But he was right.
When it came to demon politics, I was out of my depth.
I switched tracks. “Someone told me that you made a deal with Throk to allow Spiritu Malignos and the spirits to stay here. But couldn’t Throk just command you to permit their presence? ”
“That has to do with the inheritance magic.”
It seemed as if this inheritance magic did a lot. If any possibility of escape existed, I needed to understand how this power worked. “The same magic that keeps the spirits from entering the manor?”