Page 8 of Demon's Claim

As he leads me away from the clearing, his words linger in my mind, heavy and foreboding. I don’t know what lies ahead, but one thing is clear: this is only the beginning. If I’m going to survive in his world, I’ll need to embrace the darkness within myself.

As we walk, I feel that strange spark still pulsing within me, a faint glimmer of power that I didn’t know I had. Whatever it is, I’ll learn to control it. And when I do, Lucian will see that I’m not as breakable as he thinks.

“Ready for the next lesson?” he asks, glancing back at me, his expression a mix of amusement and challenge.

I meet his gaze, refusing to back down. “Bring it on.”

8

LUCIAN

The silence of my keep settles around me, thick and suffocating. After the training session with Elara, I find myself drawn to a quieter corner, away from prying eyes and unwanted questions. She’s stirred something in me—something I thought I’d buried long ago.

Her power… it’s strange, untamed, and entirely her own. But it’s also dangerous. I can feel it in the way the shadows seemed to hesitate around her, as if recognizing something kindred, something that doesn’t belong in the hands of a mere mortal.

I close my eyes, letting the silence envelop me. But it doesn’t last; memories claw their way up, unbidden and unwanted. The past has a way of lingering, especially in a place like this. I can almost hear her voice—Symara’s—soft and persuasive, weaving promises like a web of silken lies.

I remember the allure, the thrill of her power as she brought me into her world. I was young then, arrogant and hungry for strength. She promised me everything—the Underworld at my feet, immortality, and a bond that would transcend time. But her promises were poison, each one laced with betrayal.

I clench my fists, feeling the weight of her curse still wrapped around me, invisible yet suffocating. It was supposed to bind us, but all it did was enslave me to a life of darkness, a prisoner of her twisted ambitions. She took everything—my freedom, my trust—and left me in this forsaken realm, bound to shadows.

A flicker of anger surges, sharp and bitter. I thought I’d purged myself of these emotions, thought I’d buried them along with any remnants of the man I once was. But Elara… her defiance, her refusal to break, it stirs echoes of the past, reminding me of a time when I, too, fought against my fate.

“Dwelling on old wounds, are we?” a familiar voice interrupts, smooth and mocking.

I turn, finding Kieran leaning casually against the wall, his gaze sharp and knowing. He’s always lurking, like a ghost drawn to misery. And I know he sees right through me, sees the weakness I’ve worked so hard to bury.

“Kieran,” I say, my voice cold. “Is there a reason you’re here? Or have you taken up spying as a new hobby?”

He chuckles, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “You know me. I simply enjoy watching the great Lucian unravel. It’s… entertaining.”

I grit my teeth, feeling the old anger flare. “I am not unraveling,” I snap. “You’d do well to keep your assumptions to yourself.”

Kieran raises an eyebrow, unfazed. “Oh, I’m sure. But don’t fool yourself, Lucian. You’re as human as the rest of us, no matter how deep you bury it. And that little mortal… she’s bringing out sides of you I thought were long dead.”

I turn away, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing my reaction. “She means nothing to me,” I say, forcing the words out with cold precision. “Just another foolish soul bound by a curse.”

“Is that so?” Kieran’s voice is soft, almost taunting. “Then why keep her? Why not let the shadows have her? Or perhaps you enjoy the challenge?”

I glare at him, my patience wearing thin. “You know nothing of my reasons, Kieran. And I don’t owe you an explanation.”

He shrugs, a smirk playing on his lips. “Perhaps. But be careful, Lucian. Attachment is a dangerous thing, especially for one as… cursed as you.”

With that, he disappears, fading back into the shadows, leaving his words to linger like poison in the air. I stand there, seething, his words digging deeper than I’d like to admit. Attachment. The very idea is absurd. I’ve spent centuries severing myself from any trace of humanity, building walls that even the strongest could not breach.

And yet… she’s managed to slip through, in ways I hadn’t anticipated.

I curse under my breath, forcing myself to focus. Elara is nothing more than a means to an end—a vessel of the curse that binds us, a reminder of the consequences of misplaced trust. I can’t allow her to be anything else.

But even as I tell myself this, I feel the pull—the strange, reluctant fascination that has woven itself into my thoughts. She’s like a spark in this endless darkness, defiant, stubborn, and utterly unafraid of the shadows. It’s infuriating. And somehow… captivating.

I shake my head, disgusted with myself. No. I will not allow her to become more than a passing nuisance. Whatever Kieran sees, he’s wrong. This ends here.

As I turn, I catch a glimpse of her through the corridor, her figure small but unyielding, as if she’s daring the darkness to consume her. She’s different, yes. But that doesn’t mean she’s untouchable. She’ll learn soon enough that this world does not care for bravery. And neither do I.

Forcing myself to harden, I turn away, resolving to treat her with the same indifference I would any other cursed soul. She is nothing more than a temporary flame, destined to burn out. And I will not let her get under my skin.

But as I walk away, a faint whisper lingers, a memory of her defiance, her refusal to bow to me. I may try to ignore it, to bury it along with the echoes of my past, but I can’t deny that a part of me… a part of me wants to see just how bright she can burn.

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