Unmoving, contained… Like an animal that had been beaten into submission.
The Demon King’s presence filled the hall like smoke, suffocating and inevitable. He stepped closer, invading Malakai’s personal space and tilting his head, studying him the way a collector might study a rare, dangerous artefact.
“So, this is the extent of your devotion,” he said softly. “Surrendering for her sake.”
Malakai didn’t answer, his eyes were blank. Empty, even.
“Interesting,” the King mused. “You fight me with fury, but the moment her name is bound to your actions, you fold. That’s not love, boy. That’s addiction.”
His hand drifted through the air, tracing invisible patterns. My fire flickered weakly in answer, still leashed to him. Every pulse of it felt like my own heartbeat caught in his grasp.
The King’s gaze slid to me, then back to Malakai. “Tell me, how long has it been since you fed properly?”
Malakai’s shoulders stiffened.
“Ah,” the King murmured, his smile deepening. “Too long, then. You think I can’t smell it? The hunger crawling under your skin? Half-breeds like you, always trying to pretend you can live ignoring your very nature, when it’s the only honest part of you.”
“Stop,” I said, the word rasping out of me before I could think. The King ignored it.
“She fed you once, didn’t she?” His tone turned thoughtful, almost fond. “Or was it more than once? I can taste it in the air between you. Fire and blood, such a sweet combination.” His eyes glowed, bright and unwavering. “Tell me, little flame, did he tremble when he drank? Or did you?”
“Malakai,” I whispered, but he didn’t move, didn’t even lift his head. Only his hands, clenched against his back, betrayed him, knuckles white, his marks pulsating once more with restrained magic.
The King chuckled low in his throat. “Look at him, fighting it even now. Don’t you see, girl? He’s not surrendering for mercy, he’s giving up because if he gets any closer to you, he’ll tear you apart.”
“That’s not true,” I said, even though some part of me, the smallest, most traitorous part, feared the way Malakai’s eyes had lost their warmth in a matter of seconds.
The King leaned closer to his son, voice dropping to a whisper that still carried across the hall. “You could have everything you want. All it would take is one taste. Her blood would give you the strength you need. Enough to kill me. Enough to save her.”
Malakai’s breathing grew heavier, his chest heaving. The King smiled wider.
“Yes,” he said softly. “You’ve thought about it, haven’t you? How it would feel. How easy it would be. Just a single heartbeat separating her life and your salvation.”
Malakai’s magic flared, a flicker of crimson against the floor, but he forced it down. His jaw locked so tight I could almosthear it crack.
“Still holding back,” the King murmured disappointed. “Impressive. But tell me, son… what happens when she bleeds?”
The question hit like a blow. The King reached out, brushing his fingers across Malakai’s chin, forcing his face upward. “Will you still be noble? Or will you remember what you are?”
“Don’t touch him,” I said, pushing myself up despite the pain searing throughout my body. Zinlia’s hand caught my arm again, but I shook her off, stepping forward. “You call him your son, but all you see is a potential puppet, a shadow. He’snotyou.”
The King turned his head, amused. “Isn’t he? Look closer, little flame. The same eyes. The same power. The same hunger. You just haven’t seen it turned on you yet.”
Malakai’s breath came sharper now, uneven. His gaze flicked towards me, fast, guilty, raw. His pupils had thinned to slits, the demon edge bleeding through his restraint. My fire flinched in answer, uncertain whether to reach for him or recoil.
The King straightened slowly, satisfied. “There it is,” he said. “The crack.”
“Malakai,” I whispered again, taking a step closer. “Don’t listen to him, he doesn’t know you.”
But the King was already circling again, voice low and coaxing. “You want her. You’vealwayswanted her. Her fire, her blood, her heart. You think you can separate those things? You think she can survive the weight of your desire?”
“Enough,” Malakai said. His voice was rough, deeper now, tinged with something inhuman.
The King smiled triumphantly. “Then prove it. Prove you can touch her without taking what you crave.”
Malakai stood, slowly. The air thickened, the scent of blood and ozone pressing against my lungs. He took a single step forward, and the shadows themselves stretched towards him.
For a moment, I saw what the King wanted me to see, the monster waiting under Malakai’s skin, the creature that knew nothing of love or mercy.
