Page 27 of Fated to the Demon Lord

“Nevermind, Feron. It seems whatever causes me to lose my connection with the world doesn’t apply to her.” He scowled, for some reason even angrier.

“Let me down!” I shouted.

“Stop struggling or I’ll feed you to the ghosts who want you dead!”

I twisted and tried to wriggle out of his hold. I didn’t care. I’d reached my limit. I couldn’t take another second of him or the chaos around us. Vaelor marched me to the room and unceremoniously dropped me onto the bed. My skirts tangled around my legs, and I had to wrestle free of them to sit up.

His breaths were fast and deep, and for a moment he appeared as though he might do as he threatened and toss me out the second-story window to the ghosts’ mercy. Then he straightened, smoothing his fancy, rumpled clothes. “I will return to speak to you when you are calm,” Vaelor growled.

“When I’m calm?”

He whirled and strode from the chamber, yanking the door shut behind him. A second later I detected the key twist in the lock—making my room my prison.

Eight

After taking a drink from the vase, I stood by the window and remained there, staring out across Lord Vaelor’s lands, begging my brain to come up with a feasible escape plan. Nothing came. If I stepped outside, I’d be killed by the spirits. If I stayed, Vaelor would use me as his puppet.

He’d saved my life. I should be grateful, yet disappointment weighed on my shoulders. I remained here, trapped. Feron raised the gate outside, and I watched. It locked into place, cutting off any possibility of leaving—any chance of breaking free from these bloodthirsty demons and seeking my brother, who was heaven knows where at this point. I pressed my forehead to the cool glass as tears burned behind my eyes. Gods Gerand, I hope you have found some small pocket in which you can survive.

I lingered there, wishing for a better existence. But even before the demons raided our lands and took us captive, life had been difficult, money had grown scarce, and the very people who were supposed to care for us had abandoned Gerand and me.

I shoved down the piercing ache that came at the thought of my mother—of the last day I saw her as she went off to sell her herbs and tonics to others. After my father had abandoned us, she always promised she’d be there for us.

I’d promised Gerand the same thing.

I’d failed. Miserably.

I don’t know how long I stood at that window, thinking about every horrible turn my life had taken since the day she left, but the sun had dipped beneath the horizon when a coldness brushed across my bare shoulders, causing me to shiver. I spun around.

Vaelor lingered on the other side of the room, the mist spooling out from him until it encircled my feet, sending a chill through me. My heart rate accelerated at the sight of him.

“Contemplating another escape attempt? That would be very ill-advised,” he said. Despite the fading light, the fireplace mantel remained visible through his translucent form.

“Ill-advised for whom?”

His eyes narrowed, and he walked across the space until he stopped right in front of me, forcing me to look up. Damn, he was so tall compared to me, especially with those horns that curved from his head. “The portion of inheritance magic that keeps demons from entering only holds while I remain in the manor. If I depart for the Final Proving and you stay behind…”

I sucked in a breath. “The spirits could get to me.”

“Yes. And we’ve seen what would happen to you if you were to leave on your own.” His gaze bored unwavering into mine. There was a brief interval before he spoke again, as if weighing how I’d react. “So there is only one answer for you. I must possess your body so that they cannot. Because once they are inside you, well, it will be all over for you.”

I glanced down at my bandaged arm. “And why would that bother you?”

“There are advantages to being able to possess a body. Spirits can only interact with this plane for a limited amount of time. Only about thirty seconds and then we lose our connection, and it can take a while to build up that ability again. It makes it difficult to fight, to kill, among other things.”

“You don’t have any issue touching me.” I thought of the stairs, of the surprise on his face when his grip held.

His lips pressed together, but he nodded. “Yes, it is peculiar.”

“Why? Does that happen often?”

“No.”

I lifted an eyebrow at his less than helpful answer.

He sighed. “As far as I’m aware, this is the first case.”

The first case in which a spirit had the capacity to touch someone at will. But not any person. Me. There had to be some reason. Could it be tied to the fact that when he possessed my body, it wasn’t violent and painful? I set the question aside. I wanted to continue our discussion on what was to come.