Page 41 of Demon Food

“Is that…blood? Are you injured?”

“That? Barely,” Alek scoffed. “It’s a hunting wound. Bit off more than I could chew with a wild boar.”

He was lying, but what I couldn’t discern was why. He could’ve thrown me to the wolves, told the king I’d stabbed him. He could’ve claimed he didn’t feel safe with me, but he didn’t.

The king squinted. “When?”

“Today.”

“You went hunting today? With whom?”

“The cousins.”

“Is that right?” The king’s expression remained absolute. “Show me. Let me see it.”

“No. And speaking of things that are none of your business, you cannot treat me like a prisoner. Call it off. Now.”

The king hesitated. Then he grabbed the hem of Alek’s shirt and yanked it up. Alek’s flinching was too late. I could almost swear, the temperature in the room rose by ten full degrees as the king’s face blanched.

The wound bled in long legs of crimson down his muscular side, and the cauterizing he did etched the skin in a rough and waxy layer. The issue was that it should’ve healed by now, but it wasn’t going to heal anytime soon.

Because he was dying.

“I cannot believe my eyes.” The king’s voice was barely a whisper. “It’s like you are one step closer to death’s door with each passing day.”

“It will heal with some rest,” Alek said, yanking the shirt from his grip and shoving it back down. “Rest I won’t get with a stranger in my room.”

The king hoisted his chin, and a cold, brutal density bled into his expression. When he spoke again, his voice had grown grim while flames licked his irises. “I blame myself. My leniency has allowed your recklessness to persist for far too long. Well, I’m quite finished indulging you.”

Alek rolled his eyes all the way up to the ceiling, his head rolling back with them. “Again. If only it were your business⁠—”

He screamed.

My body quaked, responding faster than my mind could keep up as he screamed again, pain reverberating from his lungs like he was suddenly in agony.

I covered my ears, but oh gods, his body was twisting, the angles all wrong as he tried to escape from whatever nightmare was hurting him, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t run. It was as if an invisible hand held him in place.

“See, that’s where you’re wrong,” the king whispered to Alek, lowering to a smooth squat as Alek fell to his knees, clutching his side while blood stained his hands. “It is my business.”

A cry broke from Alek’s throat as he gripped his side, but it didn’t control the bleeding. It bled irrepressibly as if something, or someone, was digging their fingers into it, ripping and wrenching the wound deeper.

“You will spend the next two weeks with this human.” The king’s voice was serene as he effortlessly drowned Alek in pain without so much as a twitch of his eye. “Because it is your duty to this crown to fuck something.”

Alek’s eyes, reddening more and more by the second, welled up in tears as he tried to breathe through the pain but screamed through his teeth as his side soaked in even more blood.

“Someday, you’ll appreciate everything I do for you.” He leaned in closer to Alek. “Until then, you will fear me.”

I didn’t even realize I’d receded against the wall until my back hit it. Even the soldiers seemed at a loss, hands rigid by their sides, their expressions unsettled.

“Say Thank you, Father,” the king whispered, nodding. “Say that, and it ends.”

Alek could barely unclench his teeth, but he spat, “Th-thank y-you, Father.”

“Once more, please. A little more heart this time.”

“Thank y-you, Father.”

The chains rattled as I slid down the wall, wrapping my hands around my knees, sagging at the bottom. Alek collapsed to the floor the instant the king released him.