Page 18 of The Demon's Secret Baby

I file away each piece of information, building a mental map of what we're up against. The minotaurs' strength, their ruthlessness, the layout of their island - it all might prove useful if we get a chance to escape.

As night falls and the hold grows darker, more stories emerge. Tales of entire coastal towns razed to the ground, of the minotaurs' lightning-fast ships that seem to appear out of nowhere. Each account paints a clearer picture of our captors and the world we're being dragged into.

I listen intently, asking questions when I can. Where are the weak points in their defenses? What are their routines? Every scrap of information is a potential key to our freedom.

But when we tire and finally curl up to get some sleep, I lean against the damp wood of the ship's hull, my eyes closed as I try to center myself. The constant rocking of the waves makes it hard to think, but I can't afford to lose focus. Not now.

"Volezimir," I whisper his name like a prayer, drawing strength from the memory of his golden eyes, his gentle touch. I won't let this be the end of our story.

I force my eyes open, scanning the hold once more. The other prisoners have fallen into fitful sleep, but I remain alert. Every creak of the ship, every footstep above, could be important.

The minotaurs have a routine, that much is clear. They change guards every few hours, their heavy footsteps echoing through the planks. Food—if you can call the slop they toss down here food—comes twice a day. Water, thankfully, is more frequent.

I've been watching, waiting. There's a moment, just after the changing of the guard, when their attention wavers. It's brief, but it might be enough.

My fingers trace the outline of the pin hidden in my boot. It's not much, but it's a start. If I can get these chains off, maybe I can find a way to the deck. But I haven't tried again since I don't know what waits outside the door. Once I have a plan, though, I am out of here.

I close my eyes again, picturing Aurelius. The lush greenery, the hidden waterfall where Volezimir and I shared our first kiss. The memory burns, fueling my determination.

I'm coming back,I promise silently. To Volezimir, to June and Lamain, to the life I've only just begun to build. I won't let these overgrown bullies take that away from me.

9

VOLEZIMIR

Istep onto the creaking dock, my glamour settling over me like a second skin. The air reeks of fish guts and desperation. Perfect. This shithole's exactly where I'd expect to find leads on Zylpha's captors.

My fists clench at my sides. Fuck, I should've been there. Should've protected her. The rage bubbling in my chest threatens to spill over, but I force it down. Later. There'll be time for that later.

The Seven know that it's been coming up more and more. Never in my life have I been so angry, so ready to fight. I've never been a violent man, even before my injury. I fought, as a demon should, but now I'm out prowling for a fight. Ready to raze this whole town down to find Zylpha.

I stride toward the nearest tavern, a ramshackle building with grimy windows and the sound of drunken laughter spilling out. Inside, it's dim and smoky. I scan the room, noting exits and potential threats. Old habits.

"Whiskey," I growl at the bartender, sliding onto a stool. He eyes me warily but pours. Smart man. Most elves can tell I'm notlike them. The chaos energy feels different. But the glamour is strong enough that none have seen through it yet.

I toss back the drink, savoring the burn. "Heard there was some excitement 'round here lately. Ship full of slaves, mix of dark elves and minotaurs running the show. Ring any bells?"

The bartender's eyes widen slightly. "Dunno nothin' 'bout that," he mutters, suddenly very interested in wiping down the bar.

I lean in close, dropping my voice. "You sure about that? 'Cause I'm willing to make it worth your while for any... useful information."

He hesitates, glancing around nervously. I slide a pouch of coins across the bar. His hand darts out, snatching it up.

"Alright," he whispers. "There was a ship. Came through 'bout a week ago. Real nasty bunch. Minotaur Captain, one that usually doesn't come into the ports…if you know what I mean."

My blood runs cold. Fucking minotaur pirate by the sounds of it.

"Where?" I demand, my voice a low growl.

The bartender swallows hard. "That's all I heard."

I nod, tossing back the rest of my drink. As I stand to leave, the bartender calls out, "Hey, you didn't hear none of this from me, yeah?"

I fix him with a cold stare. "Hear what?"

Outside, I duck into a shadowy alley, my glamour flickering as I struggle to maintain control. And then I head to the next. If word is out that some pirates dared to come up to the Sorcerer-King's shores, then there must be more information out here.

I prowl through the seedier parts of the port town, rage simmering beneath the surface. Every dead end, every useless bit of information pushes me closer to the edge. But I can't lose control. Not yet. Not until I find her.

---