Page 29 of The Demon's Tongue

He grabs her arm, yanking her closer. Fury emanates off of him. “You are whatever I say you are.”

I sense her fear, but also her resolve. She’s holding her ground, refusing to be broken. It’s almost admirable. Almost.

But she needs to act. Sylas is right; dark elves are powerful beings. And I'm not sure how much longer I can withstand this, waiting here in the shadows for her to make the right choice.

“Stop!” she demands, trying to kick him as he pins her against the desk. "Stop touching me!"

Sylas’s eyes narrow, forcing his knee between her legs to widen them. “Or what?”

Geneva doesn’t flinch. “You'll regret this, you stupid bastard."

With a defiant glare, she spits in his face. His sneer deepens, and he wipes away the spit with the back of his hand. It's clear that the audacity of her action fuels his anger. He uses the same hand to slap her again, harder this time. “Bold words for a girl in your position,” he snarls.

I can feel the intensity of the moment building, his rage simmering just beneath the surface. Geneva's resolve is unyielding, even as her cheek reddens from the blow. I grit my teeth, disgusted by Sylas's pathetic attempts at trying to subdue her.

If he had a speck of the power he says he has, he would have overwhelmed her by now. But he's all talk, no bite. That's unfortunately common amongst most of the dark elf khuzuth nowadays.

Sylas forces her onto the ground, pinning her down by the wrists. She lets out a yelp as her back lands on the ground, the wind escaping her lungs. His weight crushes her, and for a moment, I consider stepping in. But then I see the spark in her eyes. She’s not done yet.

"Get off me!" Geneva struggles, kicking and twisting, trying to free her hands. Her eyes blaze with defiance, even as pain contorts her face.

"Silence!" Sylas snaps, tightening his grip on her wrists. "You’re mine, remember?" His voice drips with possessivearrogance, a sickening reminder of the power he holds over her. But it's waning. I can tell.

I watch, my jaw clenched. The scene is almost unbearable, but I can't tear my eyes away from her. Her spirit is fierce, unyielding. There's something magnetic about her fight, something that calls to me in a way I can't ignore.

She grits her teeth, her eyes darting to her pocket. With a sudden surge of strength, she twists her body, managing to free one hand just enough to reach inside.

"You’ll regret this. I fucking told you!" she hisses, pulling out the crystal.

Sylas's eyes widen, a flicker of fear crossing his arrogant features. "What are you?—"

Geneva's focus sharpens on the crystal, her face contorted with fierce concentration. The air around us crackles with an electric intensity, and I can feel the shift in power. Sylas's grip falters, his confidence wavering for the first time.

"What is this?" Sylas gasps, his voice tinged with panic. "What are you doing?"

"Ending this," Geneva says through gritted teeth. "Endingyou."

The crystal glows, casting an eerie light across the room. Sylas's eyes roll back, and he claws at his throat, gasping for air. A misty essence begins to seep from his mouth, swirling in the air like smoke. His soul, visible now, is drawn toward the crystal, being sucked into its depths. The entire scene is mesmerizing, a testament to the raw power Geneva wields.

A sick satisfaction fills up my chest. Another soul captured. Another life claimed.

"No!" Sylas's voice is barely a whisper now, drenched in terror. His body convulses violently, then goes limp, crumpling on top of Geneva.

She groans, struggling against his dead weight until his corpse topples to the floor beside her with a thud. I exhale a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding, the tension slowly easing from my shoulders.

You've done it again, my little human, I think victoriously to myself.You've captured the soul of the dark elf who made you a slave.

16

GENEVA

"Iknow you’re watching," I say, my voice hoarse from exertion. My hands tremble as I clutch the crystal, Sylas's body lying motionless beside me. “Just come out already.”

Calix materializes and his smirk widens as he looks down at me. "Did you now? And here I thought I was being stealthy."

I try to stand, but my legs wobble beneath me. My muscles ache, and I can feel bruises forming on my skin. Calix extends a hand, his long fingers beckoning. I hesitate, eyeing his palm warily. After a moment's deliberation, I take it. His touch sends a jolt through me, electric and unsettling.

"You did well," he says, pulling me to my feet with effortless strength. His voice is smooth as silk, but there's an edge to it that makes my skin prickle. I sway slightly, and he steadies me with a firm grip on my arm. "I knew you had it in you, little human." His words are both a compliment and a reminder of the task ahead. My freedom is within reach. I swallow hard, trying to ignore the way his red eyes seem to see right through me.

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