Page 73 of Gift for a Demon

Gaz, looking at him with those annoyingly big eyes. The hellhound was covered in blood and bone dust.

“Go take a bath,” he commanded. “He’ll be scared if he sees you like this.”

Gaz lowered her ears and whined, sniffing around before she hopped off the bed.

Melchom breathed out when she left the room. He hadn’t realized it at first, but he needed to be alone for this. He couldn’t have anyone—not even Dove’s hellhound—see him break down when he got inside the human’s head.

He needed to prepare himself for… anything. A crumbled house of mirrors. Fire. A constant replay of Melchom’s body betraying them both.

It would be okay. It would have to be, but it would wreck him. Melchom hadn’t been in a situation where such pain could lance through him in millennia. He’d forgotten how paralyzing it could be.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, for whatever it was worth.

Objectively, he knew Dove wasn’t listening. He was unconscious, all that energy he’d woven earlier taking its toll on him. Melchom would’ve been proud of his feat if everything else didn’t take precedence. It didn’t even matter that his human had given him what he’d been longing for all this time. He had his crown, and all of his power had been restored.

It didn’t quite matter, not as much as Melchom thought it would. It would matter more when he started exerting revenge over everyone who had conspired with Astaroth.

Now, he shook those thoughts away, sliding into his Dove’s house of mirrors. After the couple of weeks they’d been together—a fragment of time that should mean nothing to him—being inside the human like that was as easy as breathing. Second nature.

Dove’s house of mirrors was there, the same but different all at once. Melchom noted the slight breeze around him. It was warmer, sunnier, even though the sun wasn’t a thing that existed in human’s inner worlds.

One glance above—where fragments of memories and fantasies used to float around, transforming his reality into a sort of kaleidoscope—revealed a clear sky. Clear-ish, except for the flights of doves filling it. Melchom frowned. A sense of peace settled within him the longer he stared at the birds, but it didn’t make sense. Melchom shouldn’t feel that way.

He hadn’t earned it.

Melchom?

Huh?

Spinning around, he came face to face with… with his own human Dove. He had his wavy locks framed by a flower crown, a golden corset Melchom hadn’t bought him highlighting his cinched waist.

My gift.

Dove had to be using the remnants of energy he’d absorbed to get inside Melchom’s consciousness. Right now, Melchom was inside the human’s head, though, which meant the human got to see his own house of mirrors for the first time.

What’s this?

Your brain, Melchom answered while materializing a form of his body to appear in front of the human. I’ve healed everything else already. You’re safe.

Melchom went down to his knees as he spoke.

I know. Dove didn’t move. I don’t understand what I did, but it makes sense.

I’ll explain. Not here.

His Dove laughed. It was a beautiful, bittersweet sound. I really am losing it, aren’t I?

Melchom shook his head. Go back to your body, little Dove.

Why? Dove rested a hand on his hip. Melchom could tell he was fighting not to fidget. You’re King now, right? Isn’t that what I did?

You did, yes. Melchom wasn’t sure he was following, though.

So that means you don’t need me anymore, right? You got what you wanted, and I… I can just stay here, can’t I? It seems peaceful.

Melchom shuddered. He couldn’t… That wasn’t…

No. He rose up to his feet. You’re mine.

---