Page 21 of Fated to the Demon Lord

“You see, she’ll even harm herself. She has no control.”

“You dare go against our agreement?” Vaelor snarled.

“Like I said, this was merely a demonstration. Raxus, come out of her.”

This is not the end, little human, Raxus’s voice sounded cruel and certain. I’ll return and you’ll be mine.

Raxus left me, nothing but mist, but then he took form in front of me. I crumpled onto the ground and lay unmoving. My body felt unnatural—like it no longer belonged to me. Blood lined the inside of my mouth, covered my chin, and leaked from my arm, pooling on the floor. Pain flooded my senses from my wound.

Throk gestured carelessly toward my inert form. “See, your lordship, she is mostly intact.”

Vaelor released a low growl. “I’m not ignorant of Spiritu Malignos’ ways. I assure you I understand the intricacies of the Final Proving better than most.”

Throk nodded. “Then we’ll be on our way. Come, Raxus, your access to this home is at an end. Lord Vaelor, we will see you at the initiation ceremony where we shall begin at dawn tomorrow.”

He stepped over my body. Raxus came after, giving me one more dark, meaningful look.

“I’ll escort you out,” Vaelor said and followed them, stepping over me without so much as a glance.

A terrible, unfeeling numbness filled me where relief should have been. This constituted my life. Torture and fear and agony—all alone. I was alone because everyone who had ever loved me had left me.

I gasped when a wetness hit my wound, causing a stinging, burning pain that brought instant awareness to me. Lord Vaelor stood over me with a pitcher, pouring wine onto my arm. Then he set it down and bent over me.

He reached for my hand and began picking at the knot holding the bandage in place.

“What are you doing?” I asked, lifting my head to watch him.

He scowled. “I don’t want your weak human blood dripping all over my home. Your arm requires this more than your hand.”

I rested my head on the floor, bitter sarcasm filling me. “So kind.”

His eyes narrowed, dimming the orange glow into slits. “Is that what you deserve, human? Kindness?”

I swallowed, tongue covered in the metallic taste of blood. Perhaps not.

He wrapped the cloth around my arm. But then left the ends loose as he straightened. “Now tie it off.”

I glanced at it and then at him. “It’s not really easy for me.”

“I’m not your servant. Use your mouth if you have to.”

He had just watched me get tortured, and this was his response? But then again, he was a demon. What did I expect? “My name is Denara.”

“You think I care what you call yourself?” He turned away. “You’re weak. You require food. Come into the dining room.”

After using my mouth to help me tie off the bandage, I was able to place my feet under me and stand. The scratch marks on my chest ached, and my limbs felt shaky, yet I managed to stagger into the dining room.

Vaelor reclaimed his spot at the head of the table. “Sit and eat.” The mist lingered, curling around his form, his wings pulled tight on his back as he regarded me. The orange glow made his red gaze appear more sinister in the low lighting.

I sat. I didn’t touch the food. My wrist throbbed, and I still tasted blood on my tongue, the stickiness of it beginning to dry on my face. I snatched up the napkin and mopped the blood off my skin.

“Where are you from, human?” Vaelor demanded.

He’d intentionally omitted the use of my name, and yet he cared about where I came from?

But there was no reason not to answer him. After witnessing his newfound power of torture firsthand, the last thing I wanted was to provoke him into turning it on me. “I lived outside a town called Antioch before demons took my brother and me captive.”

“And where is your brother now?”