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“I hope. Asmodeus is more familiar with fae magic than I am. He’s seen their magic up-close. I’m just sort of following his lead. My fae blood comes from my mom, but she doesn’t have magic, just her beastly alter ego. So, everything I’ve learned has mostly been through him or trial and error.”
“What about your dad? He couldn’t help you?”
“He’s a druid, so the magic is different.”
I nod, dropping the rag into the bucket with a wet plop. The rest of the dirt will have to wait until Asmo wakes.
“What happens to demons that lose their shadow?” The question slips out before I can stop it, revealing a fear I didn't realize I've been harboring until now.
Griffin's eyes darken, his mouth twisting. “They lose the ability to feel emotions, and the idea of someone like Asmo losing the ability to feel is bloody terrifying. So, let's hope for all of our sakes, he doesn’t.”
“What? You think he’ll be evil or something?” Leaning against the bed, I prop my elbow on the satin covers and rest my head in my hand.
Griffin shakes his head, white hair falling over one eye. “Not evil, but after living in that prison realm and servingmy grandfather, he’s been forced to do some wretched things. Things that broke the part of him that determines right from wrong.” His eyes take on a distant glaze. “Eventually, you kill enough that the value of life becomes non-existent. Sometimes I think the only reason he thinks twice is because Alice will be mad at him.” He flexes his eyes as if to emphasize his point. “He cares about what she thinks of him. Without emotions, he wouldn’t.”
Alice. The Queen of the Seven Realms. I’ve heard of her dozens of times since I’ve been here, yet barely anything about the demon king.
“Why is he so close to her, but not his brother?”
Griffin’s eyebrows furrow. “What makes you say that?”
“He’s mentioned her, so have you, but not really anything about him.” I don’t dare meet Griffin’s eyes. Earlier, he was convinced I was jealous. And maybe he’s a tad bit right. Not jealous that he’s close to her, but because I yearn to be close to someone like that, to have someone care about me wholeheartedly, the way he does her.
“Asmo and Alice were trapped in the prison realm together for a time. She went there to save my father, and the two of them worked together to survive. He’s trusted her with his life ever since. He didn’t even meet his brother until after they both escaped. By then, he’d already forged a friendship with Alice.”
“Yeah, but the boundary around the prison world came down two hundred years ago. I’ve only been alive for twenty-two years and I’ve formed friendships.”Sort of.As much as one can while being the Duchess of the Elven Islands, and the daughter of a dictator. “Asmo’s had time to do the same with his brother.”
Griffin snorts. “In case you haven’t noticed, he prefers to be alone or with the dead. The only living folk he claims to stand are Alice or children. With everyone else, it’s like he doesn’t know how to socialize with them. You’ll see what I mean at some point if you stay here.”
“He attacked you in the woods. I hardly think that’s someone you leave unattended with your children.” I scowl at him.
“I’ve done far worse to him.” Griffin traces a jagged scar slicing down Asmo's chest.
I follow his finger down a jagged scar, spanning from the base of Asmo’s throat down his sternum and across his lower rib on his right side. It’s wide and raised in stitch marks but everywhere the thread touches his skin is melted like the sutures were on fire.
“You did that?” I ask, unsure if I want the real answer, but needing it nonetheless.
“Unfortunately. My beast took control for the first time and Asmo was the only one brave enough, besides my very pregnant mother, to follow me into the Enchanted Forest. It takes a special person to stand up to a fae beast.”
I shudder, picturing the gruesome wound. "Surprised he lived. It looks deep."
“It was. I flayed him wide open and can still hear his wail, from when it happened.” Griffin twists his lips, trapping them between his teeth a moment before continuing. “Remembering that sound is what has allowed me to control the shift, to return to myself at will when my beast seems insistent on being in control and it’s what brought me back that day. I’d used my magic to sew him up,” he says, tracing those melted marks.
“I can’t believe that didn’t kill him.” It looks like it was deep. Then again, most of his scars do.
“It did. I was in the woods for hours, bawling my eyes out before he came back. I’d thought I ended the fool for good.” A brittle chuckle escapes him as he glances up at the domed glass ceiling. “So, if he can deal with my outbursts, I’ll happily deal with his. I’ll be whatever he needs, because he’s always there for me.” He smirks, a light returning to his eyes. “It doesn’t mean I won’t give him shit for it, though.”
“It sounds like stupidity, more than bravery to me.” I chew the inside of my lip, fidgeting with the fabric of Asmo’s blanket.
“This is the mainland, pretty girl, where monsters, demons, and all the creatures that go bump in the night, exist. Sometimes things are out of our control, and we need those we love around to bring us back to reality or save us from ourselves.”
18
Valeria
The soft glow ofthe hell flame casts flickering shadows across the room as I lie curled up on one side of Asmo's bed, my body cocooned in rich, heavy blankets. The world’s deadliest demon sleeps soundlessly beside me, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.
It’s been three days. And the only reason I know is because it was dark when Griffin laid him in here, and the hell flame is losing its glow, meaning it will be night soon. And night only comes once every three days in this realm.
