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But she didn’t give me a chance to explain. She just assumed the worst and stormed off. It’s maddening and somewhat…exciting. I can’t remember the last time someone stormed off on me. It’s…refreshing.
But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let it slide. Oh no, not at all.
It’s not easy following a woman in Hell who doesn’t want to be followed, especially when you’re trying to be discreet. I’m not exactly inconspicuous. But I manage. I keep my distance, trailing her through the winding corridors. Her rage is palpable, even from a distance. It’s like a beacon, leading me straight to her.
I watch as she stumbles into a bar. The Devil’s Brew. Not exactly the classiest place in Hell, but it’ll do in a pinch. I slip in behind the shadows, far enough away that she can’t see me. I watch her throw back shot after shot. She’s trying to drown her sorrows, and it’s a sight that twists something in my gut.
It’s one thing to see her angry, but this…this is something else entirely. It’s not right. It’s not her. This isn’t the same woman who looked at the library with such awe, who fought for what she believed was right, who stood up to an Archdemon without flinching.
I…can’t stand it. Seeing her like this. It’s a revelation that I can’t quite process, a feeling that’s too raw, too new.
Using my power, I make my presence known. It’s a subtle thing, a shift in the air, a drop in the temperature. But it’s enough. The demons in the bar sense it. They go still, their eyes wide as they glance around in fear. They know an Archdemon is near, they can feel it. And they know better than to cause trouble.
I watch as Elara leaves the bar, a clear stumble in her step. She’s drunk, more than drunk, and it’s a sight that tugs at that same spot in me. I follow her, keeping a close eye as she makes her way through the streets. The demons she passes give her a wide berth, their eyes wide with fear the moment their gazes find me. They can sense my power, my anger. And they know better than to cross me.
Elara finally stops at a bus stop, slumping onto the bench. She’s a sight, her clothes disheveled, her hair a mess.
And a deep realization hits me.
Idid this.
Bax Daemonus.I’vedone this to her.
It should thrill me. Send a deep source of satisfaction through me for achieving something so very basic to my demonic desires. But that thrill doesn’t come.
There is no satisfaction here.
There’s something about Elara, something that pulls at me. Something that almost made me forget the rules that bind us when she whimpered into my mouth as I fucked her tight little pussy.
I watch as she closes her eyes, the lines on her forehead smoothing out as she gives in to the exhaustion. It’s not long before the bus arrives, and I use my power again. The driver senses me, his eyes going wide as he opens the doors for Elara. She gets on, the demons inside the bus scrambling to get as far away from her as possible. They sense me, and they fear me. Good.
I follow the bus, keeping pace as it winds its way through the city. When it stops, I’m there. I watch as Elara stumbles off, her steps unsteady. My gaze follows her as she makes her way to the Hellfire Hotel, her movements slow and uncertain.
She doesn’t make it far. Just a few steps away from the entrance, she slumps against the wall, sliding down to sit on the pavement. She’s a pitiful sight. Her body slumped, her head resting against her knees. And it’s a sight that twists my gut, a feeling that I can’t quite put a name to.
I can’t just leave her there. I won’t.
So, I approach, my steps slow and careful. I don’t want to startle her. But as I get closer, I realize she’s asleep. Her chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm, her face relaxed.
I reach out, gently lifting her into my arms. She’s light, so very light. Her head lolls against my chest, her breath warm as she mumbles something in her sleep and burrows deeper against me. It stirs something in me, a feeling that’s both foreign and familiar. It’s…unsettling.
Carrying her to her room is easy. I’ve got the strength and the power, and no one dares to stop me. Not when they can sense my power, my anger. They know better than to cross me, especially when I’m like this.
The hotel door opens easily, and I stride through the opulent lobby. The doorman, a lesser demon with no horns, all but trips over himself in his haste to get out of my way. I suppress a smirk. Fear has its uses.
Once we’re in the elevator, I take a moment to look at Elara. Even asleep, she’s a sight to behold. Her hair is a mess, her clothes rumpled, but there’s a determination in her, an unwavering spirit that I can’t help but admire. She’s fighting battles on all fronts, standing up to me, to the demons of Hell, even to her own fears. She’s brave, braver than anyone I’ve ever known.
The elevator dings, and the doors slide open to reveal the penthouse. The place is luxurious, a stark contrast to the chaos of Hell outside. I carry her to the bedroom, gently laying her down on the plush bed. I take a moment to tuck her in, pulling the blanket up to her chin. She sighs in her sleep, a soft, content sound that makes me stay by her side for far longer than I should.
As I turn to leave, I find myself pausing, looking back at her. There’s a vulnerability to her now, a stark contrast to the fiery spirit I’ve come to know. It’s a side of her she’s kept hidden, a side I’m only seeing now.
I shake my head, forcing myself to step away. This isn’t me. I’m a demon, a creature of darkness. I’m not supposed to care, not supposed to feel. But as I look at Elara, asleep and vulnerable, I know it’s there.
That protectiveness.
Thatpossession.
With one last look at her, I leave, closing the door behind me. The hotel room is silent, the only sound is the soft rustle of sheets as Elara shifts in her sleep. It’s peaceful, a stark contrast to the chaos within me.
