Page 22 of Demon's Prey

"Tell me about your sister," I say, my voice softer than before. "What was she like?"

Narina's steps falter for a moment, her eyes widening slightly at the unexpected question. She hesitates, and I can see the internal struggle playing out on her face. Finally, she speaks, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Claudia... she was always so patient with me,” she says. A ghost of a smile touches her lips, and I find myself captivated by this rare display of vulnerability. "I remember this one time, when I was younger, she taught me how to braid flowers together to make a crown."

As Narina speaks, her eyes take on a distant look, as if she's reliving the memory. "We spent hours in this meadow near our village, picking wildflowers. Claudia showed me how to weave the stems together, her fingers moving so gracefully. I kept messing up, but she never got frustrated."

I watch her closely as she talks, noticing how her body relaxes slightly, how her voice takes on a softer quality. It's like she's shedding years of pain and hardship, if only for a moment.

"When we finished, she placed the crown on my head and called me her little forest princess." Narina's voice cracks slightly, and I resist the urge to reach out and comfort her. "I felt so... special. So loved."

As I listen to her story, a realization dawns on me. Narina isn't just searching for her sister; she's chasing after a piece of her lost innocence. She believes that finding Claudia will somehow restore the purity and simplicity of those moments from her childhood.

A pang of something unfamiliar - is it pity? - shoots through me. I know, with the certainty that comes from centuries of existence, that such a thing is impossible. Once innocence is lost, it can never truly be reclaimed. The Narina who wore that flower crown is gone, replaced by the fierce, vengeful woman walking beside me.

I watch Narina as she finishes her story, her eyes still distant, lost in memories of a simpler time. The longing in her voice is palpable, and it stirs something within me - a feeling I'm not quite sure how to name.

As a demon, I understand the thirst for vengeance all too well. It's a hunger that never truly abates, a fire that consumes everything in its path. I've seen it countless times over my centuries of existence, and I've felt it myself.

But I've also learned that revenge is a dish that never truly satisfies. The more you get, the more you want. It's an endless cycle, a bottomless pit that swallows everything whole and still demands more.

I think back to earlier, when Narina was whipping the dark elves. The fury in her eyes, the raw power in her strikes - it was intoxicating to watch. But even as she inflicted punishmenton them, I could see it in her face: she wasn't satisfied. The vengeance she sought didn't quell the storm inside her; if anything, it only made it rage harder.

It's a bitter truth, one that I've come to accept over the years. But Narina... she's still so young, so raw. She hasn't learned this lesson yet, and part of me wonders if she ever will.

As I look at her now, I can't help but feel a twinge of... is it sadness? It's a foreign emotion for a demon like me, but I can't deny its presence. Because I know, with absolute certainty, that I can't help her find the part of herself that wants to wear a crown of flowers. That innocent, carefree girl is gone, consumed by the flames of vengeance and loss.

It's a pity, really. To see someone so young, so full of potential, trapped in this cycle of revenge. But who am I to judge? I'm a demon, after all. Corruption and darkness are my domain.

As we walk through the darkened manor, I stop and turn to face Narina. The moonlight casts eerie shadows across her face, accentuating the sharp angles of her cheekbones and the fire in her eyes. I'm struck again by how captivating she is, this human who's managed to surprise me at every turn.

"You're more than I expected, Narina," I say, my voice low and serious.

She frowns, clearly taken aback by my sudden change in tone. Her eyes narrow slightly, searching my face for any hint of mockery or deception. "What do you mean?"

I step closer, feeling the heat radiating from her body. The scent of her - a mix of blood, sweat, and something uniquely her - fills my nostrils. My eyes meet hers, and I can see the moonlight reflected in their depths.

"You'll see," I murmur, my words hanging in the air between us.

11

NARINA

The aroma of roasted meat and spices wafts up from the plate before me, stirring memories I'd rather forget. My stomach growls, betraying my hunger, but I can't bring myself to pick up the fork.

"You didn't have to do this," I mutter, unable to meet Dazirus's gaze.

He leans back in his chair, his crimson eyes never leaving my face.

"Consider it part of our arrangement,” Dazirus says. “I need you at full strength."

I clench my fists under the table. His kindness feels like a trap, each gesture of goodwill another link in the chain binding me to him. I'd rather he treat me like the prisoner I am.

"I'm not hungry," I lie, pushing the plate away.

Dazirus sighs, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice.

"Starving yourself won't help you find your sister any faster,” he says.

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