Chapter 2
I sucked in a huge breath and sat bolt upright.
“That is... frightening,” someone said.
I ignored the voice to clutch at my face and chest. Then I peered at my legs, shoving back the tattered blanket to do so. No wounds.
No signs of the torture I’d endured. I gasped at the memory of glass ripping from the inside out. My chest heaved, and I finally turned my sights on the other demon in the room.
Tsan nodded. “I’d feel that way too. Judging by how it looked. Neti and some friends healed you. What do you remember?”
As far as regaining consciousness went, this was a nice return. In my experience, people didn’t offer information and usually opted for cryptic answers.
I rubbed my forehead. “I gave you the blue gem and asked you to make plans with Athira to heal me after the ritual.”
Memories of the last week crashed over me, and I covered my mouth at the memory of kicking Darthy in the face. Bile rose in my throat. “Fuck, I did some seriously messed-up stuff.”
“As you expected,” he said. “Athira mentioned a few things, but I stayed away from the fortress like you said. You weren’t sure if you’d try to kill me—if you’d remember everything from before.”
I hadn’t.
I’d forgotten everything important to me. “I forgot my own son.” Bile rose again, and I forced it back. “The white magic is gone?”
“Neti and her pals seemed happy enough when they left. The blue gem is dust now.”
I followed his glance to the small pile of gem remnants on the shack floor.
The shack I’d hidden in for three years to escape Carmine.
Carmine, who’d entered the smoke ritual with me.
I remembered the transition—Tyran had been there at the start, and then Carmine had regained control.
He hadn’t said anything, which I guessed had to do with Tyran’s presence in him, but I’d seen my mate in there.
He’d gone against his instincts to complete the smoke ritual with me.
Even though he’d wanted to keep me away from Tyran’s foul magic.
Carmine guessed that I might have a plan, or that I might have figured some of this out.
Then I’d been a monster for the last week while the wrath curse had controlled me. Carmine would’ve been blaming himself this whole time.
I sagged. “That was intense. You guys couldn’t have done that any sooner? I’m sure it wasn’t an easy feat, but some of the stuff I did was…”
Then I thought of Carmine, who’d been a prisoner in his own body for decades while subject to the white magic.
He’d been made to do thousands of horrible things.
The difference was that Carmine was aware of everything he was doing.
The white magic always erased who I was, but Carmine had to live each of those moments in real time, not just recall them.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed. “It happened so fast.”
I’d been standing against Carmine in battle on Earth, and beside my sister and the Supernatural Alliance. Then Adeuto had run out of the coven. Then Owu, the young crimson demon in my care.
Carmine had resisted Tyran’s order to kill our son with all of his might, until he’d bled from his eyes and ears.
That was when I’d believed in the wrath curse at last. That was when I’d found the courage to risk everything for my mate. Whether we lived or died was anyone’s guess, but we’d do so free. Of that I was determined.
I’d free Carmine before the end.
Tsan’s voice dragged me back to the present.
“We had to figure out a way to get you to Neti without Carmine following you. Athira wasn’t sure how to convince Carmine, but she noticed he wasn’t happy with the new you.
She convinced him that you needed some time away from the fortress to adjust after the recent ritual. ”
“And she drugged me so I couldn’t fight Neti. Bet she enjoyed that.”
“She did appear to.”
I shuddered at the memory of the healing. “I’m glad I was drugged. That felt…”
Like my soul was ripped out, but sheer relief was a soothing remedy after waking free of Tyran’s control.
Shit. I hadn’t just risked the livelihoods of three other supernatural species by returning to Carmine.
I’d risked Adeuto. What if Tsan and Athira hadn’t managed to heal me?
The actions I’d taken seemed foolhardy in hindsight.
They’d worked out, sure. But that hadn’t been assured.
I’d berated Kyros for risking our plan, and then I’d done the same. Worse even.
“What’s the plan, Syera? I’ve been guessing for the last week, but where do we go from here?”
Here was the tricky part. Tsan had lost his mate at Carmine’s hand. He was here to help me kill Carmine, and now I’d reversed that decision and wanted to save my mate. If I didn’t confess the truth to Tsan, then that would be using him. Lying to him. Taking advantage.
Except… I only had two allies in this realm, and one of them liked to drug me and ditch children who weren’t directly related to her. Telling the truth felt too risky right now. Lying and using it is. “The plan is that I’m one more ritual tied to Carmine.”
Tsan answered, “So when you sever the mating, he’ll go down harder.”
I nodded, ignoring the sinking feeling in my chest. “I’ll need to complete others. But before that happens, I need more blue gems. And a better approach. That was… I can’t believe that worked out. We need to organize a way to heal me in advance of the next ritual.”
I didn’t want to be made to hurt anyone.
I shivered again.
My yellow-scaled friend walked over and rested a hand on my shoulder. “I wasn’t going to let you stay that way.”
I swallowed down a wave of guilt. Taking advantage of another demon wasn’t frowned upon in this culture—the whole betrayal thing was expected, actually.
The mentality was that if a person let themselves be betrayed, then they had it coming.
But I was part magus and my mother and grandmother had raised me on Earth.
I knew better. Or I’d known better. Or perhaps the stakes had never been high enough to put me in this position.
All I knew was that betraying Tsan didn’t feel right, but damn if I wasn’t demon enough to bat that guilt away until later. I’d find the right time to tell him the truth. Eventually. When Carmine’s future and mine and Adeuto’s—and the futures of three other supernatural races—were safe.
I released a breath, shaking off the last of my stupor. “How long was I out?”
“Three days. Athira was growing concerned that he would visit.”
“I need to return to the fortress,” I muttered. “And I need to play the part of a monster. He can’t know that I’m healed.”
Tyran, that was. I had to figure out a way to convey the truth to Carmine, or he’d never allow more rituals. Continuing the mating felt important. I couldn’t explain why.
My gut twinged for the first time since the ritual. My magus power was back in business, and they’d confirmed my instincts were right. For whatever reason, our mating was important in this battle. I had to pursue more rituals.
Tsan hummed. “Can you play the part?”
My brows rose. Could I? Great question. I was a demon, but that didn’t make me mean-hearted. “We’ll find out.”
“Would it be easier to treat me that way?”
A short laugh left my lips. “What? Bully you?”
He lifted a shoulder. “I would know that you didn’t mean it. That could make it easier for you.”
It would. I winced at the thought. “I suppose so, but that’s a shitty thing to ask of you.”
“You didn’t ask. I offered. This is too important to mess up. He can’t know you have a way to throw off his power. We’re getting close, and I’ve waited a long time for this. If I have to play the victim for a few weeks to avenge my mate’s murder, then that’s an easy choice to make.”
I met Tsan’s gaze. “So you’ll let me beat you up or humiliate you?”
“In the name of revenge, absolutely. I’m yellow, Syera. It’s not like I haven’t been in this position before.”
Which wasn’t right either. All demons had their place in this realm, and more often my mind turned to the faults of our current system. Our “weaker” demons were so naturally clever. Why weren’t we utilizing that in the fortress and in the running of the realm?
The answer? Tyran was only content to utilize his own cunning, which didn’t help yellows and oranges thrive or feel valued in the realm.
A sigh left me. “Okay, I’ll let you be my punching bag.”
“Yay. What’s that? I mean, it’s really a bag you punch?”
“Really.”
“Why not punch people?”
“Humans don’t heal as fast,” I murmured, most of my thoughts elsewhere.
“Find blue gems,” Tsan quipped. “Be a good punching bag. Anything else?”
One thousand other things. “I can’t think straight yet.”
“That’s why you need a yellow in your life,” he answered. “Then you wouldn’t need to think at all.”
His answer was well meant, but it chilled me. That way of thinking had led to a wrath curse that had killed and hurt so many. For thousands of years, kings had been the unwilling vessels of a white demon’s cunning. Tyranny. Elitist views.
“A powerful demon who grows lazy in thinking is a dangerous demon, I would imagine,” I replied.
Tsan tilted his head. “True. And a weak demon who relies only on his thoughts will leave himself vulnerable.”
My shoulder’s relaxed at his genuine answer.
This was why ancient powers had chosen me for Carmine’s mate: to rid the realm and supernatural races of Tyran’s monstrous games.
To save Carmine. To free him.
To free us all.
“Let’s go back to the fortress and figure out how to kill your mate,” Tsan said pleasantly. “Just like old times.”
I forced a smile. “Just like old times.”