Page 108 of Fated to the Demon Lord

Releasing me, he stepped toward the door. I twisted my fingers so hard it hurt, stepping after him, telling myself this wasn’t the last time we would be together. I love you.

He paused. Then spun and came back. He picked me off the ground and pushed me onto a nearby table, knocking the vase to the floor. And kissed me forcefully. His hands roved over my frame, taking in every inch of me. He released a low growl and deepened the kiss. My body raged with desire. I opened my mouth, allowing his tongue to sweep inside and claim me.

He pulled back and set me on my feet, his breaths coming fast and heavy. I am and will forever be yours, Denara.

With one last longing glance, he stepped to the door and swung it open. My chest ached as the opening shut, leaving me in the blackness of the front entryway, trembling with fear and desire. “Please don’t lose,” I whispered.

I waited there in the dark for a few moments after he left before slipping out of the manor. Being careful not to get too close to any demons that were awake at this ungodsly hour, I made my way quickly to the kitchen tent.

Mira was already up and inside, bustling about. She scrubbed a pot with quick, almost frantic movements, her shoulders tight and her jaw set as the metal rang softly beneath her palms.

“Mira,” I hissed as I snuck into the tent.

She jumped and glanced up at me. After checking to make sure we were alone, I pulled out the brown potion bottle and placed it in her hands.

Mira’s eyes grew wide. “What is this?”

“It’s a poison that will weaken the demons.” It wasn’t as strong as the venenum I’d used to kill the mercenary army, but I couldn’t kill Spiritu Malignos demons, anyway. All I needed to do was incapacitate them for a bit. And the feast designed after the tournament should do it. I hoped.

Mira’s hands shook. “Another poison—Denara, I⁠—”

“Just mix it in with the other spices and serve it to the army. Make sure you get it in Throk and the other leaders’ food. There’s too many other cooks. Nobody will know it was you, and even if they do, it’ll be too late.” I clenched my jaw, fingering the blade at my waist. Vaelor wouldn’t be wielding this sword. Once Throk and the others were weakened, it would be up to me.

Up to me to finish off Throk and the other two leaders of the army once the poison weakened them.

I took a slow breath. That would be later.

I looked at Mira. “Please, I can’t do this without you.”

She trembled but then nodded.

“Thank you, thank you. I’ll watch from the trees at the edge of the clearing.” I left the poison in her hands and snuck out of the tent, hurrying over to the tree where the boy and I had watched the tournament the day before. The sword clanked against me annoyingly as I climbed, but I found a spot and settled down to observe and wait.

As the sun ascended in the sky, the camp came to life. Demons gathered around the area in the middle of the field to view the end of the tournament. Throk lumbered in and assumed his place in the center of the dais, followed by his two commanders—the two gargoyles and their thick, rock-like skin with the black cracks. Once the poison weakened them, I’d have to take off their heads. That was the only way to be sure I’d finished the job. My heart rate picked up and my stomach churned. Even from a distance, the trio appeared large and nasty, and suddenly I was feeling my serious lack of experience with a sword.

Something pulled my gaze over to the pole where the human had been tied the day before. I’d avoided looking at it, but a demon walked over and slashed at him, and it brought my attention.

The human didn’t move, didn’t react. It hung sagging and lifeless, pale and cold. His battered body, a testament to the horror of his last hours.

I swallowed. I could do this. I would do this.

Creedan soon joined Throk. I noticed how he gazed at the Spiritu Malignos demons warily and with more than a little disgust on his face. He still must be in negotiations with Throk to stick around for another round of fighting.

Raxus and the other two demon contestants arrived as well. A chill crept down my spine. Raxus’s armor wasn’t forged leather like it had been the day before, it was made from bones taken from fallen champions and somehow fused together. Vertebrae formed his breastplate, giant femurs guarded his shoulders and a crown of sharpened ribs framed his head. Crimson coated the bones and every movement Raxus made produced the sound of grinding skeletons. He stretched and shook his horns—appearing too well-rested, too confident.

My eyes narrowed. I hoped Vaelor crushed his guts into the dirt.

Vaelor soared in, dropping from the sky. He gripped his sword and threw a quick glance my way before facing the others.

“Good. We are all here,” Throk said. He paired Vaelor up with a tall, lean demon with pale, corpse-colored skin and Raxus up with a demon with a hawk-head, feathered wings, and long hair braided with iron rings and bone.

I tensed. The tall, lean demon curled his long fingers, which ended in black claws. He had thin horns that rose from his temples. Although he was thinner, he moved with an easy grace, and he held his weapon with an experience that told me he knew how to fight. I glanced at Vaelor. Despite his attempts to conceal it, the poison clung to him like a shadow—his movements were slower, his shoulders heavier than usual. Even though we had a plan for the final battle, Vaelor still had to make it through this one.

Vaelor and his opponent entered the ring of rocks, squaring off against one another. The other demon gave an unnerving smile as the horn sounded.

The demon attacked, and Vaelor had to move quickly to block the blow. Their swords banged together, the sound of the crashing blades sounding like cracks of lightning ringing across the field. Vaelor fought, his steps a little too shaky, his hits a little weaker with each strike.

The tall, lean demon’s smile only grew as he pressed harder, seeing Vaelor struggle to keep up.