Page 61 of Chained to the Devil's Daughter

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Ash’ren

While Searra was off being a queen, I was in the library. I’d stopped at my quarters first—the fuck-forsaken suitor’s suite—where I’d found two boxes on a desk. Whoever was posted at the tower had so thoughtfully returned my belongings from my brief stay in the luxury accommodations. One box was full of the bloody scribblings of a madman. The second, much heavier box, contained fourteen dusty books.

Naturally, they’d all found the trashcan immediately, butThe Fire in My Bellywas the reason I now found myself in the library. There were too many breadcrumbs about the strange new phantom burns that didn’t add up.

“Oh! Ash’ren!” a sharp voice called. I peered around the stacks toward the source, startled when Geysis grabbed my arm from the opposite direction. “Whoops! Just a little something I’m working on.” She waved a ballpoint pen, then held down the clicker. When she spoke next, the sound of her voice came from distinctly behind me. “Voice-throwing!”

“That sounds. . . incredibly useful for a spy,” I teased. My grin faltered when the merling woman stilled like I’d offended her. Guess I’d assumed we were closer acquaintances than wewere. Two blinks later, she was beaming up at me from her five-foot stature as though I’d said something exceptionally flattering.

“Hey, Ash’ren,” Geysis all but whispered. She appeared to concentrate on the stack of books before us, clicking the pen rapidly.

Whatever moment we’d shared was gone. Concerned, I leaned against the shelf to face her fully. “What is it, Geysis?”

She cast me a shy glance before touching the spine of a book. The pen stopped clicking, but her foot began tapping. “I’m not sure how to say this.”

I stepped on her boot to stop her fidgeting. Although this was the most conversation we’d ever shared, Geysis was another of Searra’s strays. I couldn’t help feeling I already knew her. Not to mention the way she put Fuegis in his place. “You can talk to me.”

“I don’t know about that,” she jested weakly.

“Try.”

She shook her head, jingling the chain earring on her earfin. “I’ve been meaning to apologize. All those times they had me charm your water, I never found a way to show you any humanity.”

I dismissed her apology with a wave of my hand. Yeah, I’d recognized her, but it didn’t matter. A pawn of Devil was simply a pawn. “That’s not how I recall it. Yours was one of the rare smiles I saw that wasn’t on the face of some dickwad being a dick.”

“I always wanted to do more. I guess I’ve just needed to tell you that.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her fin. I understood needing to let that off her conscience, so I nodded. My hand drifted to the stump of my horn, but I startled when she suddenly cried, “Wait!”

“Fucking flames, woman!What?”

“I can help with that!” Geysis bounced in her boots. “What Devil used on your horn, it was one of mine. It takes the mana out of its victims, which is what demon horns use to regenerate. I can’t bring your horn back, but I can make another dagger, so you can at least take his!”

“A dagger?” I cocked a brow. “Just a dagger?”

“What do you mean?”

“Hard to believe a dagger could ever be just a dagger with you.”

Geysis laughed. “Devil was stricter than our lovely new queen. Well, honestly, I’ve never met anyone like Searra.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. We shared a knowing look. “She’s good at that.”

“Hmm,” Geysis hummed. “She is.”

“Was that all you wanted to talk about?” Suddenly, it was imperative I find my Firefly and show her howdeepmy love could go.

“Oh! Actually, I was hoping to get a jar of your fire.” When I nodded, she clapped her hands around the ballpoint pen. “Wonderful!”

∞∞∞

The golden glow of afternoon’s fading light broke into fractals throughout the colorful palace gardens. A breeze that wouldn’t dare grace the pits filtered through speckled coleus leaves and purple coral bells, rearranging the hair on my head. Fuck, this was nice. I was tempted to sniff some fucking roses.

Voices interrupted my moment of bliss. Someone was in the private garden. Two someones. Feminine laughter floated by on the breeze, but it didn’t sound particularly happy. I flattened against a lattice wall of red clematis vines.

The laughter stopped abruptly, replaced by a moan. Not the passionate kind, and it wasn’t accompanied by the sounds of kissing or fucking. Just a hushed whisper in a harsh tone.

Loud, quiet. Here, there. I would know that fucking voice anywhere. The voice of the spineless, dickless demon who’d sealed my fate. I emerged from my hiding spot and cleared my throat.

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