Page 27 of Demon Lord's Proposal

Dangerous, even.

A demon lord isn't supposed to feel this way.

But as I look at Sage, I realize I don't care. Whatever these feelings are, whatever they mean, I'll figure it out. For now, all that matters is that she's safe, and she's here with me.

16

SAGE

It's been weeks since the assassination attempt, but life goes on.

I might even say I’m enjoying myself, even. My training is going swimmingly, the angels have laid off, for the time being, at least.

I'm in the middle of mixing a complex elixir for a group of minor demons when I hear it - a sudden hush falling over the usually raucous crowd. My head snaps up, eyes darting to the entrance. There's a ripple of movement as patrons shift in their seats, craning their necks to get a better look at the newcomer.

The whispers grow louder, a wave of curiosity and tension washing over the bar. I strain to see past the crowd, my hands still mechanically completing the elixir. And then, like a punch to the gut, I see him.

Joesiah.

My world stops. The bottle in my hand slips, shattering on the floor, but I barely notice. All I can see is him, standing there in the doorway, looking exactly as he did on our wedding day.

The day he betrayed me.

Confusion floods my mind. How is he here? Why is he here? A torrent of emotions crashes over me - anger, fear, longing, hatred. I grip the edge of the bar, steadying myself as Joesiah's eyes lock onto mine.

He moves through the crowd, patrons parting before him like water. As he gets closer, I can see the mix of emotions playing across his face - hope, regret, determination. His body is tense, hands clenched at his sides as if he's physically restraining himself from reaching out to me.

"Sage," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've found you."

I swallow hard, forcing myself to maintain my composure. "Joesiah," I reply, my voice cold and steady. "What are you doing here?"

The weight of our shared history hangs between us, a chasm of betrayal and lost dreams. The easy intimacy we once shared has been replaced by an awkward tension, neither of us sure how to bridge the gap.

"I... I came to apologize," Joesiah says, his eyes pleading. "What I did to you... it was unforgivable. I've spent every day since then regretting my actions, searching for a way to make it right."

I feel my jaw clench, anger bubbling up inside me. "Apologize? You think an apology can make up for what you did? You betrayed me, Joesiah. You exposed my secret and left me to die."

Joesiah flinches at my words, but presses on. "I know, and I'll never forgive myself for that. But Sage, I've found a way to fix it. To bring you back."

My heart skips a beat. "What are you talking about?"

"There's a ritual," he explains, his words tumbling out in a rush. "An ancient spell that can restore life to those trapped in the underworld. It's dangerous and complex, but I've spent years researching it, preparing for it. I can bring you back to the world of the living, Sage. We can have the life we were meant to have."

For him, it must have been years, while for me it felt like months. I try to listen, try to understand, my mind reeling with possibilities and doubts. Part of me wants to believe him, to grab onto this chance at the life I lost, to be accepted by them. But another part, the part that's grown and changed in this strange new world, hesitates.

"You don't belong here, Sage," Joesiah continues, his voice soft and persuasive. "This isn't your world. Come back with me. We can start over, make things right."

I open my mouth to respond, but before I can, I notice the other patrons reacting to our conversation. Some look intrigued, leaning in to catch every word. Others appear hostile, glaring at Joesiah with undisguised animosity.

"You've got some nerve showing up here, mortal," a gruff voice growls from nearby. "This ain't your realm."

Joesiah pales slightly but stands his ground. "I'm here for Sage. This doesn't concern you."

The tension in the bar ratchets up another notch. I can feel the situation teetering on the edge of violence when a familiar presence makes itself known. “Oh I think very much it does have to do with me, and what’s mine,” Deus says, eyes flashing red.

Deus steps to my side, his imposing figure radiating barely contained menace. His eyes, glowing with otherworldly power, fix on Joesiah with predatory intensity.

Joesiah takes an involuntary step back, fear flashing across his face. "I... I don't want any trouble. I'm just here to talk to Sage."

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