Page 3 of Dark Souls Academy: The Sacrifice

She was just lucky he didn’t have a secondary power. He was in his human form. As a shifter, his power was the animal inside of him, which was why she went for the legs first. Blood loss and too much pain could confuse a shifter long enough to make them forget they had a whole-ass animal inside of them. Especially if they underestimated their opponent. Their survival instincts would kick in if the hunter waited too long though.

Once her prey stopped breathing, Lilah moved off him with a wince. “The fucker bit me so many fucking times. Thank goodness this leather kept fixing itself. My poor vagina.” She gripped herself through the fabric. “Stop laughing,” she snapped at me with a glare.

“I’m sorry. I’ll stop.” I bent over as my now silent chuckles made it hard to breathe.

She ignored me and used the dagger to finish the job. Cutting open the chest was easy now that she had stabbed it a million times. The heart was shredded, but she pulled it from his chest with a slushy like sound until it came free.

“Asshole!”

She threw the heart on the ground and stomped until it was a pile of black goo. Then, she waddled away from the dead demon. Her winces put a smirk on my face. The saying misery loved company was completely true, and I was a miserable fucker these days.

I patted her on her back when she walked past me. When she growled, I gave her a pat on the ass like the human sports coaches did in the movies. “You did good.”

She just swung her arm backwards to swat me away without glancing back.

“I’m sure Demarcus can kiss it better,” I teased, and made kissing noises to make her laugh. I might be turning into a despondent bitch, but I still wanted her to be happy.

She shoved me away. Her cheeks turned bright red that could even be seen in the dark of the night.

“Screw you.” Her pride and embarrassment collided.

She was still shy around anything sexual, but it was getting better as her men worked with her. Soon, she’d be cracking sex jokes, I knew it. Her brainwashing mother wouldn’t hold her grip on Lilah forever.

“Speaking of the demon. Demarcus is screaming in my head, wanting to know what is happening. How do I tell him my vagina is broken?” The horror in her eyes made me take this conversation seriously. Even if I wanted to laugh some more. Demarcus was her new Master, so he could feel her emotions.

“It’s not broken. I’ll heal you one way or another.” My tone was nonchalant, but she grimaced.

“No more kissing. I can’t handle anymore.” She shifted away from me.

Her mom had subjected her to mental and physical torture because of the tiny bit of demon inside her. Lilah recently confided in me that her mom was part of a cult—a real crazy bitch. The religious aspect to her mom’s torture made sense now. Cult leaders were hot commodities in Hell. Their spirits tasted spicy, a demon’s favorite flavor. I’d capture her soul somehow and give it to an atrocious homosexual demon as pay back.

She said her mom would make her sit on her hands for hours or put her in a locked chest if she even looked at homosexuals when they were out of the house.

Yet, a kiss would be the easiest way to give Lilah my energy. I could regulate the flow better. If I gave her too much power, she’d start breaking everything she touched again. I loved to watch her grow as a demon, but she wasn’t ready for that level of power.

“Okay. How about we use the elephant jizz?” The smirk was in my tone. This small amount of joking fun was the only joy I got these days. I couldn’t help myself.

She snorted at the memory but nodded.

Our best friend Vivian called our energy balm that, and it stuck. Since I couldn’t see her for several more months because of the Dark Soul Council’s punishment, it was great to feel connected to her somehow. Now that she was practically mated to my brother and ran the slave Haven, I had her in my life a little. I still missed her, though.

“It’ll take a lot longer to heal.” I warned her.

Vagina pain sucked, but I guessed as a woman, she’d be used to it. Succubi didn’t have that problem often. We controlledwhen we got fertile and when we bled. Unfortunately, we had to choose at least two times a year to have our periods, or our demons would go feral.

“As long as you don’t have to put it on the wounds, I’ll suffer.” She unzipped her leather top and removed her arms from the sleeves. Her white schoolgirl shirt was clean and bright in the night. It was what all the slaves had to wear. That and pleated skirts, or tan pleated slacks for the men. Whereas the Master demons wore leather.

“Whatever you want,” I teased.

I poked her side, then let my happy mask fall for a second. The exhaustion of always pretending either to make others happy, or to prove that I deserved my title as Queen took a toll on me.

After absently swatting my hand away, her back went straight. "Okay, give me a second. I need to talk to him. He’s giving me a headache.”

I grabbed her arm as she closed her eyes to focus, smirking when she groaned in frustration. Her new Master had his bond mark on her, but mine, being stronger, was the only one visible on her skin—something that drove him crazy.

I didn’t feel as bad for not reclaiming her as my lower, when I got back from the Demon Trials, with him around. Me being her Master would only bring her trouble and pain. Demarcus was one of the people who had the sense to not tell everyone he was in my faction, so Lilah was safer with him.

I missed her in my head like we were tonight, though. She was always a bright light in my dark life. Maybe the other supernaturals had it right when they called anyone with demon blood in them Dark Souls… Still didn’t give them the right to segregate us and treat us like a disease, but I understood the title more since living in Hell.

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