Page 10 of Demon's Claim

The Underworld may be a place of shadows, but I’ll bring my own fire, and I’ll burn as bright as I need to survive.

10

LUCIAN

There’s a disturbance in the air, a shift in the shadows that feels unnatural, as if something dark and ancient is stirring beneath the surface. I can feel it creeping through the keep, subtle but persistent, like a whisper on the edge of hearing. It’s unsettling, and I know without a doubt that it has something to do with her.

Elara’s power has become a beacon in this realm, a flicker of light in a place that was never meant to know warmth. She’s drawing attention—attention I’d rather avoid. But the Underworld is as ruthless as it is vast, and any display of power is bound to attract predators. She doesn’t know it yet, but she’s already marked, and it’s only a matter of time before something finds her.

I move through the dim corridors, seeking out Kieran. His presence is often more shadow than substance, but if there’s one who knows the whispers of this realm, it’s him. He’s always had an ear to the ground, gathering secrets like dust in the corners of his mind.

I find him lurking by the edge of the keep, his form flickering in and out like a faint shadow. He looks up as I approach,his eyes gleaming with that familiar, irritating amusement. “Lucian,” he says, his voice low and mocking. “I wondered when you’d come.”

I narrow my eyes, not in the mood for his games. “There’s something stirring,” I say, cutting to the point. “Something dangerous, and it’s drawn to her.”

He chuckles, clearly entertained by my concern. “Ah, yes. The little mortal with a spark of power she barely understands. Quite the beacon, isn’t she?”

“This isn’t a game, Kieran,” I growl, frustration slipping into my tone. “If she draws the wrong kind of attention, it could destabilize the entire realm.”

He shrugs, leaning casually against the stone wall. “And whose fault is that, Lucian? You brought her here, didn’t you? You chose to bind her to yourself, curse or not.”

I grit my teeth, refusing to let him bait me. “Do you know what this power is?” I ask, keeping my voice steady. “Or who it might attract?”

Kieran’s smile fades slightly, his gaze growing thoughtful. “There are forces in the Underworld older than you, Lucian. Older than all of us. And power like hers… it doesn’t just appear. It’s drawn from something primal, something beyond magic.” He pauses, studying me with an unsettling intensity. “Perhaps it’s connected to the Underworld itself, or perhaps it’s something else entirely. Either way, it won’t go unnoticed.”

A chill runs through me, though I keep my expression impassive. “So you’re saying her presence could be a threat to more than just herself.”

Kieran’s smile returns, sharp and knowing. “Precisely. And you, of all people, should be wary of attachment. It clouds judgment, makes one… vulnerable.”

I clench my fists, anger flaring. “I am not attached. She’s a responsibility, nothing more. Her survival matters only because it impacts my realm.”

He chuckles, the sound grating. “Keep telling yourself that, Lucian. But if you truly believe it, why seek me out? Why not let her fend for herself?”

His words hit closer than I’d care to admit. The truth is, I don’t know why I’m here, why I feel this gnawing need to protect her. She’s nothing more than a mortal, a fleeting spark in a world of shadows. And yet… there’s something about her, something that stirs memories I’ve long buried, emotions I thought I’d snuffed out.

“Enough,” I snap, dismissing his words. “If there’s a threat, I need to know what it is. I won’t let this realm fall into chaos because of one foolish mortal.”

Kieran’s gaze sharpens, a hint of something darker flickering in his expression. “Then keep her close, Lucian. Watch her, protect her if you must. But be warned—this path you’re on leads to dangerous places. The Underworld doesn’t tolerate sentiment, and neither should you.”

I glare at him, unwilling to admit the truth in his words. “I don’t need advice on how to rule my own realm, Kieran.”

He shrugs, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Suit yourself. But remember, even the greatest flames can be snuffed out by a well-placed shadow.”

With that, he disappears, leaving me alone in the silence. I stand there for a moment, his words echoing in my mind, stirring something that feels dangerously close to doubt. Attachment. The very idea is absurd, and yet… there’s no denying the instinct that’s driven me here, the strange, reluctant pull I feel every time I’m near her.

I curse under my breath, turning back toward the keep. If there’s a threat, then I’ll handle it, as I always do. And if thatmeans keeping her close, then so be it. She doesn’t need to know the dangers she’s attracted—better she remains unaware, unprepared. The last thing I need is for her to start thinking she can handle this world on her own.

As I enter the keep, I find her lingering in one of the corridors, her gaze distant, lost in thought. She doesn’t notice me, her expression softened, almost vulnerable. For a moment, I hesitate, an unfamiliar pang stirring in my chest. She’s nothing like Symara, yet there’s something about her spirit, her defiance, that reminds me of the person I once was.

letting my presence fill the space between us. She glances up, surprise flickering in her eyes, but she quickly masks it with that familiar defiance.

“Don’t wander too far,” I say, my voice cold, authoritative. “There are things in this realm that would relish the chance to tear you apart.”

She smirks, though I see a hint of caution beneath her bravado. “I can take care of myself.”

I scoff, though the hint of a smile tugs at my lips. “We’ll see. But remember, Elara—this realm doesn’t forgive weakness. Stay close, or you may find yourself lost in shadows you can’t escape.”

I'm about to turn away when she steps closer, her scent—a mix of ancient tomes and something uniquely her—filling my senses.

---