Page 3 of Damsel to the Demon

I take a shaky breath, ready to pour out my heart in return. "Thomas, you've been my rock, my shelter, my?—"

The door crashes open with a thunderous bang.

Time seems to slow as I turn, my white dress swirling around me. Five dark elves stride into our home, their black armor glinting in the dim light. Their faces are cold, impassive, as they survey the scene before them.

"What's going on here?" the dark elf captain demands, his voice like ice.

The room falls deathly silent. I feel Thomas's grip on my hands tighten protectively. Aunt Lena gasps, clutching her handkerchief to her mouth. Uncle Jace stands, his fists clenched at his sides. Elena hugs her child close, fear etched across her face.

Papa steps forward, his shoulders squared. "It's a wedding, sir. We have permission for this gathering."

The captain's eyes narrow, sweeping over our modest decorations, our handful of guests. His gaze lingers on me, taking in my simple white dress. A sneer tugs at his lips.

"A wedding?" he scoffs. "How... quaint."

I swallow hard, fighting to keep my voice steady. "Please, sir. We're not causing any trouble. We just want?—"

"Silence, human," he snaps, cutting me off. "I don't recall giving permission for such frivolity."

He strides forward, his armor clanking ominously in our tiny living room. The scent of leather and metal overwhelms the sweet perfume of wildflowers. I feel Thomas shift slightly, angling his body to shield me.

"Who gave you permission to marry, girl?" The captain's gaze pins me in place.

My heart plummets as the dark elf captain's cold eyes bore into me. The joy of moments ago evaporates, replaced by a chill that seeps into my bones.

What is he doing here? This can't be happening.

My mouth goes dry. "I... we thought..."

"You thought wrong," he snarls. "Humans don't get married. They breed when told, nothing more."

2

AZARUK

The scent of blood and fear hangs thick in the air as I materialize in the shadows of the dark elf's opulent chamber. My talons itch to sink into flesh, but I resist the urge.

Business first.

I've been summoned here often enough to know the drill, yet each time, the lavish decor takes me aback—crystal chandeliers, tapestries woven with threads of gold, and furniture carved from the bones of long-extinct creatures.

"Azaruk," the elf drawls, his silver eyes gleaming with malice. "I have a job for you."

I cock my head, tail swishing behind me. "I'm listening, Lord Vexus."

Vexus saunters to an ornate altar, his robes swishing against the polished obsidian floor. My gaze follows, curious. He lifts a velvet cloth, revealing a crystal jar.

My breath catches. Inside float two perfect orbs - eyes of the most exquisite shade I've ever seen. Iridescent, shifting between deep purple and vibrant teal as the light hits them. Rare. Precious. I must have them.

"Beautiful, aren't they?" Vexus's lips curl into a smirk. "Plucked from a water nymph. One of a kind."

My tail twitches with excitement. These would be the crown jewel of my collection, outshining even the golden eyes of the sun phoenix I acquired last year. "What's the job?"

"Simple. An assassination." He produces a scroll, unfurling it to reveal a portrait. "This noble elf. He's been... inconvenient."

I study the face. High cheekbones, pointed ears, haughty expression. Typical elf nobility. "Where?"

"Protheka. The Summer Palace."

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