Page 56 of Fated to the Demon Lord

A bloodthirsty grin came to Vaelor’s lips. “Gladly.”

Fifteen

We journeyed through the forest, my hands bound and Bargoth holding onto the rope to ensure my compliance. Vaelor stalked next to me, his wings slightly spread as he gave the other male demon a death glare with every step. But as long as Bargoth held his talisman, Vaelor couldn’t touch him.

I watched Bargoth. He was tall. The antlers made him appear even taller. He’d helped us—like he cared about what I wanted. What did he really want? Perhaps he was simply a nice slave owner. I’d heard about them—in theory.

Namar’s words kept replaying in my mind, so I sped up to reach Bargoth and question him. “Do you have a hedge witch hidden somewhere?”

He cast a look at me out of the corner of his eye. “There is only one hedge witch here.”

I stumbled to a stop, my heart pounding. I glanced at my tied hands, dirt mixed with Namar’s blood still under my nail beds. Only when Bargoth tugged on my rope did I remember to keep walking.

Vaelor’s raging eyes turned to me. “You’re a hedge witch?” He let out a low growl. “That would be just my luck.”

“I’m not certain what I am,” I said quietly.

A muscle feathered in his jaw. “Suddenly you don’t seem so helpless.”

“I—that wasn’t magic. I only used information that my mother taught me…” Gods, Mother had abandoned me, but I had always believed I had a fundamental idea of who she was, and who I was as a result. “He said he knew my mother.”

The thought of that being true made my soul feel as if it was being filled with both light and darkness at the same time.

Vaelor raised an eyebrow. “How could he know her?” he asked, his voice low.

Bargoth marched forward, pretending not to hear us, yet I believed he could. Perhaps if I continued speaking, he’d interrupt with information.

“I’m not sure,” I said. “She left… it’s possible she came into demon lands.” I frowned, unsure whether I wanted this to be true. If she ventured into a demon territory, it probably meant that she’d suffered—that she may still be suffering. And yet, it might also mean that she was close by.

“Or he is lying.”

“What if he isn’t?” I asked. Again the light and dark swirled in me, rage and hope battling for dominance when thoughts of my mother came into play. I didn’t want her to be here. But I did.

“He has the finger talisman that holds me bound. Doesn’t make him very trustworthy.”

“Only because you’d kill him if you had the chance.”

His eyes narrowed, and he emitted another low growl but didn’t respond.

I settled a hand on his arm. “He freed you when I asked him to.”

He glanced at my touch, the anger in his gaze softening. “You believe in kind demons, Denara?”

Gods, that question had become strangely complicated of late. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you trusted the slavers more than you trust him.”

“To be clear, I trust neither, but at least a slaver is predictable. What I don’t trust is the game he is playing.” He nodded toward Bargoth.

“Not everything has to be a game.”

He eased closer, his other hand resting on mine. “Denara, there is something I should tell you⁠—”

He cut himself off when we both looked up and found Bargoth had halted and was standing right in front of us. The end of my rope lay free on the ground. I retracted my hands, and Vaelor straightened.

“It is clear you don’t trust me, and you have good reason,” he said. “Demons are a bloodthirsty lot that revel in their enemy’s pain.” He took a long breath. “But we aren’t all that way. To survive, we must adopt a tough exterior, but deep down, we are the same as anyone else. And some of us choose to be different.”

Like Vaelor. The idea surfaced almost subconsciously, sparking a subtle, underlying unease about what it might mean.

Bargoth removed the finger talisman from around his neck and offered it to me.