Page 28 of Demon's Dark Love

"Don't be afraid," I say, then realize it's pointless. The man is clearly terrified. "Lily. Do you know where she is?"

"Li—Lily?"

"She was serving earlier."

The man nods. "Locked in the cells, I think."

I nod at him, then at his shattered glasses which reform into their original goblets. No need for him to get whipped. I start down the passageway.

"Not your mother’s cells," he calls after me. I turn back to look at him. "Griselda's," he says more quietly, his voice full of fear.

11

LILY

The cold stone floor bites into my knees as I kneel, my wrists bound behind me with rough rope.

Griselda looms over me, her eyes gleaming with malicious delight. A shadowy figure stands by the door, silent but menacing, occasionally sending shocks of pain through my body that leave me gasping.

"Enjoying your evening, pet?" Griselda's voice drips with sarcasm.

"Just thrilled," I manage to say, my voice shaking but defiant. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me broken.

"You think you're special, don't you?" She leans closer, her breath foul and hot on my face. "But you're nothing. A worthless human."

Another jolt of pain courses through me, and I bite my lip to keep from crying out. I focus on the connection with Enoch, the way his touch had sparked something new within me.

"Is that all you've got?" I taunt the shadow, forcing a smirk. "I thought demons were supposed to be creative."

Griselda's eyes narrow, and she raises a hand. Her slap knocks me sideways and my mind goes blank, my vision a flash of bright light.

She moves to strike me again.

The shadowy figure moves to stop her. "Someone's on their way to speak with you."

I focus on Enoch, on the promise we made to each other with our bodies. His image fills my mind, strong and defiant against the expectations of his kind. I can't afford to lose hope now.

"You're all so predictable," I say through gritted teeth. "Threats and pain. Is that the only language you know?"

Griselda laughs, a cruel, grating sound. "Hollow jeers. You're just a toy, a distraction."

"Maybe," I reply, meeting her gaze with as much strength as I can muster. "But even a toy can be dangerous in the right hands."

She sneers, clearly irritated by my refusal to cower. "We'll see how dangerous you are when you're begging for mercy."

Another shock of pain wracks my body, but I refuse to scream. I won't give them that power over me. Instead, I think of Enoch, of the way his eyes softened when he looked at me, the way his touch ignited something within both of us.

Griselda steps back, frustrated. "Enjoy your solitude, human. It won't last."

As she leaves, the shadowy figure remains, a silent sentinel of torment. I close my eyes, focusing on the memory of Enoch's touch, the warmth of his presence.

Another jolt of pain sends me to the floor. I lay there panting for a moment, listening intently as Griselda's voice echoes from the corridor outside.

"She thinks she's clever," Griselda sneers, her voice dripping with contempt. "We'll see how clever she is after the ball is over. Mistress Bethana wants her to suffer."

A second voice, rougher and more guttural, responds. "Why wait? We could have our fun now."

Griselda huffs. "The ball is a disaster. The guests are in chaos, and Mistress Bethana needs all hands on deck to restore order."

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