Page 4 of Chained to the Devil's Daughter

“A bird?” In this wasteland?

Again, it sang, and again my fool heart lurched. I craned my neck around the massive tungsten chain poisoned with dark magic that filled most of the window.

The tangerine sky was ribboned with clouds of soot and sand. The same dismal horizon I’d seen since being banished.But there—in the distance—a streak of pink and the barest sliver of blue.

The bird chirped again. Before ever meeting Devil and his daughter, a bird sang simply because it was a bird. Now everything’s a sign.

I strained for a view of the land below, hissing as my proximity to the chain singed my cheek. The ground was red sand and gray ash. Long streaks of charred black smeared the landscape like the blood of the earth. A deep trench cut the land in half. The tenth ring of Hell remained incomplete. As incomplete as the last time I’d been forced to haul myself down the chain.

“That can’t be right.”

The bird tweeted again. This time, I copied the sound. The bird went quiet. I whistled again and then I saw it—a flame raven. It zoomed through a narrow gap in the window, landing on my writing desk.

“Hello, pretty bird.”

Obsidian feathers tipped in mulberry fire tucked behind the bird’s abdomen, settling on its rump, where fire snuffed out. Its crown was fanned, displaying warm shades of red violet. The season of frost was well on its way, and all the Firefolk beasts and fire-touched creatures were changing their hues.

“What are you doing in this wasteland, pretty one?” Intelligent black beads flicked over my shoulder, dimming before returning to me. The bird opened its beak and spat out a little purple seed. “Sorry to disappoint, my friend. I cannot be your mate.”

The raven cocked its head silently.

“What a lucky bird they would be,” I cooed, slowly reaching for the raven, who nudged its head into all my soft pets. “Beauties like you don’t belong in this destitute place.”

I stilled. Wait.

Foolish heart. Whatever the creature sensed in me caused it to chirp and back away from my touch. I turned to the door. One step. Two steps. Three.

Heart beating in my throat, I rapped a knuckle on the door. “Hello? Guards?”

No answer. I fell to my knees and pressed an ear to the stone floor, squinting through the tiny sliver under the door. Boots, their tread lined with clumps of red sand, and a spatter of orange blood nearby.

It was risky. The guards claimed Searra was beaten every time I tried to escape. They said that Devil wasn’t only angry with me. Despite his evil tyranny and horrific parenting skills, Devil loved Searra. The only thing Devil loved more than his stolen human princess was his stupid fucking rings and the gold mine of magic bones underneath.

The raven chirped from the washbasin. A smoky feather fell from the bird’s flank and drifted into the crystalline water. Immediately its sizzling stopped, and after one, two, three, four ripples, the water was clear again.

“RAAAAGGGGHHRRR!”

I slammed a shoulder into the door with a battle cry. The wood groaned but didn’t give. I geared up to slam again, but the raven twittered in my face like a morning songbird. Fighting the urge to swat wildly, my new friend perched on the door handle and cocked its head.

“You can’t be serious.”

The raven flew off as I approached. I twisted the handle. There was a softclickas the door opened.

“Ha! Ha, ha! Ha!” I jumped back, hands covering my mouth, running over my horns, pumping in the air. “You fucking genius, you!”

I spun, searching my prison for the bird who’d just basically barf-fed me freedom like I was a hatchling, but it was gone.

I blew out a low whistle, tensed against the sting of tears and breathed deeply. She was out there somewhere. My Firefly. My mate.

Oh fuck. Searra. My cock swelled in tune to my thumping heart, both filled with hope for the first time in three thousand two hundred and eighty-seven days.

The guard directly outside my door had a hand outstretched, a silver key at his fingertips, and a dart in his neck. I scaled the unending stairs of the tower for the first time. What I found outside was carnage. Men, women, demons, humans; some of whom I’d worked alongside for all of the nine years of my banishment. Anyone wearing Devil’s crest had darts in their necks, and some had laborers skewered on their tungsten swords. Someone had wanted the guards dead, but their discreet methods were thwarted. A riot, perhaps. Judging by the corpses, it was over quickly. I couldn’t bring myself to care much past that.

Leaning against the rough stone of Ring Nine’s massive entrance gate, I extended the claws on my right hand and dug into my neck. The magic-suppressing bone of the Forgotten Ones didn’t want to tear from my flesh. Its spikes burrowed deeper with every movement. I gritted my teeth, my skin squelching as I blindly tore into flesh and muscle. Finally, I found it, my fingers pricking on the thorn-like spikes.

“Fucking elements!”

The strange sensation of laughter ripped out of my chest. I called to my magic, expecting to see the bright carmine flames of my youth. The flames that flickered to life weren’t on the red or orange spectrum, not even the blue shades of frost.

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