I didn’t answer.
Her grin widened. “Oh, the silent type. I like that. I’m Iris,” she said, as if offering her name was some great kindness. “I heard you’ve beenmarked.”
My stomach twisted.
“Marked,” she repeated, drawing the word out like a thread she intended to strangle me with. “Not by the King, obviously, I mean look at you. But there’s something on you…Mmm.” She leaned closer, inhaling like a predator catching a trail. “Familiar, sweet and young.”
Zinlia shot her a sharp look. “Enough, Iris.”
Iris laughed, the sound musical. “Don’t be such a corpse, Zinlia. You smell it too, don’t you? That faint sweetness of a demon, not the King, someone else, someonebeautiful.”
I clenched my fists before I realised it.
Iris noticed, of course. She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a taunting whisper.
“Whoever he is, he must be strong. To leave his scent wrapped around you and let you live like that… A claim, wasn’t it? Did you beg for it?”
Fire licked under my skin, pleading to scorch this demon out of existence. I couldfeelit there, rising, desperate.
But I didn’t move. I didn’t speak. I just looked at her, long enough for her smile to falter for half a heartbeat.
Then I let the flames curl back into place, defiantly.
“Careful, Iris,” Zinlia said quietly. “You’re playing with fire. She ended Virraan.”
Iris smirked, flicking her gaze between us. “Oh, please. She’s human, she’ll burn herself out long before she sears me.” Her eyes turned cold. “Although… She seems to think herself above us, and it makes my nails itch for her skin.”
We walked in silence after that, though the air between us vibrated with the unspoken. The demons we passed watched me intently, some curious, some hungry, some wary. News traveled fast here; one second the corridors were empty, the next all demons were out to inspect their new prisoner.
When we reached the bedroom again, it was exactly as before—quiet and suffocating, too soft for a prison and toocold for a home. The air still smelled faintly of smoke from Virraan’s demise.
Zinlia gestured towards the room. “You will stay here until summoned. Do not attempt to leave.”
She turned to go, but Iris lingered in the doorway, one hand resting on the frame.
“If your demon comes for you,” she said with a sneer, “I might greet him first. See if he still smells as good up close.”
That did it, my magic surged, heat rippling through the room in a wave. The silk curtains fluttered. The torches hissed.
Iris’s grin sharpened, delighted.
Zinlia’s hand shot out, gripping her arm. “Enough.”
For the first time, Iris looked as if she was about to go feral. She clicked her tongue, pulling free.
“Fine,” she said. “Leave it to the lap dog to defend the prisoner.”
And then she was gone, leaving behind laughter that scraped my nerves like claws.
Zinlia lingered a moment longer. “Ignore her,” she said. “She feeds on reaction.”
“I noticed,” I muttered bitterly
Zinlia studied me for a long moment, and though her face didn’t change, something flickered in her eyes. Something that wasn’t quite indifference.
“Rest,” she said at last. “You will need it.”
When the door shut, I was alone again.
