Page 26 of Fated to the Demon Lord

On that, we agreed. I spun and raced toward the open front doors.

The demons followed. In a flash, they were before me, reaching for me. Vaelor made me spring aside, but demon hands closed on my arm.

“Tearing limb from limb it is,” Tricken snarled in my ear. He raised the stone in his hand to strike.

The upstairs window of the manor shattered, and a large bench flew out toward the demons.

Move. With a force I didn’t have, I lunged from the demon’s grasp, away from the projectile.

Demons leaped aside when the bench crashed to the ground. I didn’t think that it would have hurt them, but some reactions must be hard to break even after one was dead.

Go. Vaelor forced my body forward, and I sprinted for the door.

“Don’t let her get inside!” Tricken shouted. He attempted to grab the stone, but his hand passed right through it. He howled in frustration and reached again, to no avail.

A winged demon’s hand latched onto my skirt, and I fell. But Vaelor had me reach out and grip the door jamb. I cried out as my dress tore, but Vaelor forced me to pulled myself through the entrance and into the manor. I landed hard on the floor.

The demons’ murderous glares stared at me through the doorway, but they didn’t enter. They lingered there, the haze curling about their forms, their orange eyes holding a dark threat of revenge.

Vaelor made me kick the door shut.

Then he rose out of me, the mist swirling as he took form. He stood over me, fury in his gaze. “Tell me again why it was worth it to try something so foolish?”

I lay on the floor unmoving, gasping for breath. Although I had almost been killed, all I could think about was how I was here again, trapped in the same situation. Months after being taken captive, having to bite my tongue and do every little thing I was told—and now having my escape thwarted yet again, I was still in the hands of a demon bent on torturing me.

I staggered to my feet on shaky legs and I glared right back. “Do not lecture me on my choices. You are a monster. All of you are monsters. If there is anything I can do to get away from you, then I will.”

He bared his teeth and advanced a step closer, his wings spread. “I just saved your life.”

“You took over my body without permission. And I know you are going to do it again and again.”

He straightened, his eyes flashing. “You obviously can’t be trusted to do what is best for yourself. You shall proceed to your room and remain there.”

“Until when?”

“Until I tell you that you may leave.”

“No.” I clenched my fists, my hands shaking and my body aching. My arm pulsed with pain, and my nails still dug into the cut along my palm. Enough. I’d had enough.

His wings spread wide. “You are not a guest here. You are mine, and you will go to your room.”

I lifted my chin. “And I said, no.”

He hissed and moved toward me. I turned to run—to where I didn’t know, but I wanted nothing more to do with demons and their violent games. Vaelor’s hands came around my waist, and he hoisted me, throwing me over his shoulder.

“Feron!” he bellowed. “Come and get her before I drop her.”

I screamed and beat his back. He probably felt it, but if it hurt, he gave no indication. I reached out to scratch my nails against his wings, and he jerked me off his shoulder and gripped me by my wrists, holding me off the ground.

“Do not touch my wings.”

He carried me up the stairs that way, my feet never touching the floor.

Feron lumbered toward us from where he had been inside a side room, where he must have thrown the bench out the window.

Vaelor paused at the top of the staircase, his eyes widening. “What is this?” His hold tightened on my wrists. I stared back at him, unsure what surprised him, but then realized—he hadn’t lost his grip on me.

Feron moved to take me from Vaelor.