Page 107 of Fated to the Demon Lord

Again he glowed for a moment, and he grunted as his entire form trembled. I watched, hoping.

But again, the glowing faded, and Vaelor was left gasping.

We had to get this. “Maybe if we⁠—”

“It’s not going to work, Denara.”

“But we could⁠—”

He looked up, his eyes flashing. “Can’t you see this is too much?”

I stilled, watching him as he sucked in air, as he grasped his wounded side. What are you frightened of, Vaelor?

His head raised until he met my gaze, something dark and volatile swirling in his eyes. I’m afraid of fucking messing up and losing you. I trust you. I believe in you and your magic, but… A shudder ran through him. I can’t shake this feeling that the curse is still upon me. Like everything is going to burn to ashes.

The fire crackled in the thick silence that settled between us, its steady pops the only sound daring to break the weight pressing down on the room. Neither of us spoke. The pain in Vaelor’s eyes stirred a steady ache in my own chest. It didn’t matter if the curse was broken if he didn’t believe it. He would remain trapped all the same—imprisoned, not by magic, but by the walls he kept himself in.

A cage of his own making.

He ran his hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, Denara. I’m sorry. Should we try again?”

“No, you’re right. This is too much.”

He nodded. “I’m going to rest. Will you come?”

“I need to finish the potions. And there is an additional spell that I must learn.”

He got up, his shoulders hunched, his body and soul both worn out. “Goodnight, Denara.”

“Rest well, Vaelor.”

He disappeared up the stairs, and I watched him go, my stomach twisting into knots. Everything was falling apart. What chance did we have at winning now? Vaelor, my family, everything was on the line.

I walked over to my spellbook resting on the counter. My hand shook as I turned to page ten.

This storm had grown too fierce for ordinary remedies.

Twenty-Eight

Before the sun rose, Vaelor and I were awake. His best armor was on him, and his sword was belted at his waist. He looked like a warrior, though one who had seen too many battles. He tried to hide the effects of the poison with his stiff shoulders and clenched jaw. But the worry in his gaze lined by the dark circles under his eyes was also evident.

I handed him the root. The leaves were stored in my pocket. He’d agreed to try one more time before his last battle. “Take it right before you fight. Let me know when you are ready, and I’ll cast the spell.”

Do you have the poison ready? Vaelor’s voice sounded in my mind.

I do. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small bottle filled with a mud-colored substance. It should be enough as long as Throk and his two officers ate it. And as long as Mira followed through.

Gods, I hoped everything went well.

You’re out of your mother’s potion that hides your scent, aren’t you? Vaelor asked.

I nodded. We’d known this would happen.

Vaelor reached out. When his fingers brushed my cheek, I felt their cool clamminess, and my worry spiked. Be careful, Denara.

I pushed it aside and stepped into him, grasping his armor and jerking him down to my level. Raising onto my toes, I pressed my lips to his. This wasn’t the end. This wouldn’t be our last kiss. I refused to believe it. Pulling back, I gave him my fiercest stare. You’ll win today. You’ll claim the position Throk offers. I… I know it.

He touched his forehead to mine, his grip tightening on me a little too much. I will win.