A beat passes, and I see her expression change.
“I shouldn’t have summoned you,” she whispers. “I didn’t mean to. It just—it came out. I didn’t know you’d?—”
“Kill your boyfriend?” I finish coldly.
Her lips part, but she doesn’t respond. She can’t even deny it. She doesn’t even correct me when I say the word boyfriend. Myvision darkens, and I cross the room before I can even register the movement. She gasps as I slam my hands down on either side of her, pinning her beneath me.
“You’re still calling him that,” I snarl, “after what he did to you?”
She chokes on a sob. “Please. Get off me.”
I don’t move. Instead, I inch further into her space.
“He drugged you,” I bite out. “Violated you. Left you bleeding in a strange fucking room, the door open for anyone else to come and take what they wanted.”
“I know,” she cries. “I know—please?—”
“And you care that he’s dead?” My voice is a low growl. “You still want to believe he loved you? That you mattered to him?”
Her tears fall down her face, her nose turning red, her cheeks splotchy. She’s shaking beneath me, like her body is struggling to hold itself together.
“You weren’t anything to him but a game, Daisy. A conquest. Something to win.”
“Stop,” she sobs. “Please!”
“I should’ve left you there; maybe he would’ve come back for round two. I should’ve let your mortal little world swallow you whole, and let him destroy you more than he already has.”
Her cry breaks into a scream of grief, her entire body curling inward, like she can hide away from me. I step back, my chest heaving.
What the fuck am I doing? I look down at my arm, her handprint bruised into my skin like a brand. I turn away and face the fire, grinding my jaw.
“I’ll have the help bring tonics. One to prevent pregnancy, one to heal. Take them or don’t. I don’t care.” I move to the door, gripping the handle. “When you’re done, you’ll be sent home. Aran will arrange it.” Her silence presses against my spine, and I hate the feeling of it. I glance back, just once. “And don’tsummon me again, Daisy. I don’t have time for your mortal bullshit.”
Then I’m gone.
Chapter 11
Daisy
He’s gone.
The door slams shut behind him, making the entire room shudder. My bones do too. For a moment, I just… exist. Still and silent, blanketed in the kind of quiet that weighs heavily. I don’t move. I can’t move. I’m still half-curled into myself, knuckles white where I’m gripping onto the blanket for a sense of grounding. My body trembles—whether from fear, or rage, or humiliation, or all three in a nauseating cocktail, I honestly couldn’t say. The tears keep sliding down my cheeks, soft and endless, soaking the pillow in a realm I was never meant to see.
He yelled at me and pinned me down. And I just let him. I didn’t even fight. Just like with Ethan. I thought… gods, I actually thought Korithax might’ve cared. Even if it was just a little bit, since he came when I called. What kind of idiot sees the Devil himself and thinks, yeah, but maybe he’s different?
I sit up slowly, and everything aches. My arms, my legs, my soul. The costume feels like it’s made of lead now. Cheap fabric clinging to the bruises I haven’t dared to look at. I don’t need a mirror to know they’re there. I can feel them like they’re burned into my skin.
“I’ll have the help send you a tonic,” he said. “Don’t summon me again.”
A bitter laugh bubbles in my throat. I didn’t mean to summon him in the first place. I didn’t do a freaking spell or some ritual. My body shut down, and my first thought was of the seven-foot demon that had infiltrated my life.
The knock at the door is soft, but I don’t respond. Eventually, it creaks open, and a servant slips in, their bubblegum pink hair plaited on top of their lowered head, their vibrant orange eyes averted, with arms full of vials. They set two of them down with practiced care, informing me which vial is which, bow once, and leave. I stare at the vials. One vial pulses a bright amber, the other a deep green, swirling with flecks of silver. Like starlight caught in a bottle of swamp water. One to stop a life from starting. One to heal the pieces left behind.
I reach for the first one with trembling fingers, but without a single ounce of hesitation. It burns down my throat as I drink it with one large swallow. It burns like the truth. The truth of what happened to me… what I let happen to me.
The second vial sits in my hand, cool against my palm. My fingers keep tightening around it, but I don’t drink it. Some awful, insidious voice whispers that I don’t deserve it. That I should feel every ounce of pain still throbbing between my thighs. That healing is for people who fought. Not for people who froze. I sit like that for what feels like hours, the green liquid seeming to glow faintly as the silence fills with my heartbeat. The echo of Korithax’s voice, low and angry, still rattles in my head.Don’t summon me again.
There’s another knock.This one’s soft, almost hesitant.
