Page 20 of Demon's Prey

The whip falls again, and again, and again. Their screams fill the air, a chorus of agony that feeds the darkness inside me. I can feel it growing, consuming me. I won’t let this end. Not until they're all gone. Not until Mariel is avenged.

"Narina."

The voice cuts through the haze of rage, sharp and commanding. I turn, the whip still clutched in my hand. Dazirus stands in the doorway, his crimson eyes burning into mine.

"What are you doing?" he asks, his voice a low growl.

I meet his gaze, unflinching.

"What needs to be done."

Suddenly, a strong hand grabs my wrist, stopping the next strike mid-air. My breath catches in my throat as I look up, meeting Dazirus’s crimson gaze. His face is calm, but his eyes are intense as they flicker from the dark elves to my bloodied hands. His grip tightens slightly, but it’s not out of anger.

“Enough,” he says softly, his voice cutting through my haze of fury. My heart races, my chest heaving from exertion and emotion. What will Dazirus do now? Will he punish me?

I try to pull my wrist free, but his grip is like iron.

"Let go of me," I growl, my voice low and dangerous.

He raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Or what?” Dazrius asks, his eyes flicking to the whip and then back to me. “You'll whip me too?"

I glare at him, my breath coming in ragged gasps.

"I might," I snap, though I know it's an empty threat.

Dazirus chuckles, his grip loosening slightly.

My heart races, chest heaving from exertion and emotion as I stare into Dazirus's crimson eyes. What will he do to me now? Punish me for my outburst? Or... something else?

A shiver runs down my spine at the thought. Either way, I anticipate the answer.

10

DAZIRUS

Ifeel the onlooking demons fall into a tense silence, my eyes never leaving Narina's bloodied hands.

"Sit," I command, gesturing to a bench nearby.

She hesitates, defiance flashing in her eyes. I suppress a smirk. Even battered and bleeding, she's got fire.

"It wasn't a request, little one,” I snarl.

Narina sinks into the chair, her gaze darting around the room. I crouch before her, gently taking her hands in mine. The sight of her wounds stirs something deep within me. Is this because of the contract? I expected to feel the bond, but not like this. Her pain tugs at me, an alien sensation that both intrigues and unsettles me.

I bring her hand to my lips, brushing a soft kiss against her torn flesh. My warm breath ghosts over her skin as I inhale her scent - blood, sweat, and something uniquely... her. My tongue darts out, tasting the metallic tang of her blood. A shiver runs through me as my saliva begins to heal her wounds.

"Stop," she murmurs, trying to pull away. Her voice is quiet, laced with discomfort. Whether it's from the intimacy of the act or the lingering presence of other demons, I can't tell.

I tighten my grip, just enough to keep her in place. My eyes lock onto hers, holding her gaze captive.

"You're hurt," I say simply, my voice low and smooth.

Something raw flickers in my chest as I stare into those emerald depths. Desire, yes - that's familiar enough. But there's something else, something deeper that I can't quite name. It both excites and terrifies me.

Narina’s discomfort is evident, but I can’t help but feel captivated by her. The way she fights, the strength she’s gained—it intrigues me.

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