Page 6 of Fated to the Demon Lord

Several rested on their cushions, their wings lightly spread behind them. Turning my gaze to the right, my stomach coiled with dread and rage simultaneously. Raxus sat there. He’d moved up in the ranks to sergeant after the raid on my town—one of the few demons in the tent who didn’t come from Aeria. He sat hunched, his deadly stare observing me. My eyes darted away from his.

“I beg your pardon, but supper is ready.” Tricken’s voice had changed in an instant from threatening to calm and submissive.

“Was it tested?” Raxus demanded.

“Of course, sir. Tested it myself.”

“Dish it up.” Raxus gestured to the demon sitting in the center of the group. “Serve Lord Vaelor first.”

“Yes, sir,” Tricken responded. He took the pot from me and motioned to a stack of bowls resting near the entrance. I picked one up and willed my sweaty hands not to betray my nerves as I grabbed a ladle resting with the dishes. I walked over and poured the stew into the bowl before turning to face Lord Vaelor.

Even seated, I sensed his superior height compared to the majority of Aeria’s demons. He was an abaddon, a descendant of fallen angels, if folklore held true. Black horns curved from his skull in cruel arcs, and dark burgundy hair spilled past his broad shoulders. Large bat-like wings extended at his back. A tailored raven-colored suit traced the hard lines of his muscular frame, an ascot fastened at his throat. Polished. Refined. Like a blade dressed for court.

He tracked my approach with glowing red eyes, studying me too closely, too carefully. Each step toward him tightened the knot in my chest. Gods, what if he saw straight through me? I kept waiting for him to rise from his seat and expose me in front of everyone.

I tripped on the rug and stumbled.

Lord Vaelor sprang up with a swift movement beyond human speed. He grabbed me with his long-nailed, clawed hands, steadying me. I looked up at him with wide eyes. A low growl emanated from his throat as he glared at me.

“Be careful, human. You almost spilled on the map,” he snarled. He took the bowl from my grasp.

I recoiled, unnerved, yet perceived the immediate change in the mercenaries’ disposition within the tent. I’d upset the one demon the mercenary army wanted to impress. Vaelor didn’t look at me again. He reclaimed his seat and spoke to a nearby leader. “So can I rely on you and your demons to assist in the attack? With my brother Lanzin’s forces to aid us, we will be unstoppable.”

“The offer you have made is very generous…”

I tuned out their discussion as I stepped back to Tricken, who stared at me with a horrified expression.

“Get out. There will be no more of your stumbling about,” he muttered. “I’ll finish up here and deal with you later.” The threat had returned to Tricken’s voice.

A lightness filled my chest, and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. Even if I hadn’t done it on purpose, my slip-up had worked to my advantage. This granted me more time to make my escape.

As for Tricken, he’d serve himself a bowl after all the leaders of the camp were served, and then he’d get his.

Before I left the tent, I glanced back at Lord Vaelor. He listened to the discussion, tipping the bowl and sipping the stew.

A spark of vengeful satisfaction curled around my heart.

Human, he’d called me with disdain. I gritted my teeth. That was all I was to these demons. Just a worthless human. Well, I’d show Lord Vaelor and all of them what this little nothing of a human could do.

Two

Not willing to risk lingering another second, I slipped out of the tent.

Outside, I rushed through camp, past towering tents, stacked weapons, and cold firepits choked with ash. I kept my eyes down as I walked by the mangled remains strewn next to more than one tent—poor, defenseless creatures torn apart and discarded like scraps. Things they’d eaten. Or tortured. Or both.

I always looked away.

If I stared too long, I was afraid I’d notice something too familiar in the leftovers. Something too human.

Even though a portion of my mind still suspected her, I couldn’t leave without Mira. She was my only real friend through this whole ordeal. And now that I was almost free, I refused to abandon her.

More demons lumbered toward the large pots of stew, most of them already in line. Huge minotaurs from Kingdom Terra Monstrum, the land walkers, to miniature imps from Kingdom Inferna, the underworld. There were even a few demons of mixed heritage, no doubt from Kingdom Misophae, the cast-outs.

I returned to Mira’s side. “Come. It’s time to go.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Go? Have you lost your mind? Most of the camp is on the other side of that tent.” She motioned to the large canvas that blocked our view of the pots. “Not to mention, as I said earlier, if we run, they’d find us and torture us for even attempting it.”

“Nobody will come for us if all goes well.” Reaching out, I gripped her hand. “I know you don’t feel good, but the symptoms will wear off in an hour or so. Until then, I’m afraid you will have to bear it.” I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her to her feet. She wobbled, and I used my body to steady her. I wasn’t much bigger than her petite frame. Her weight pushed against me, but I squared my jaw and kept moving. We hobbled our way toward the trees.