Page 28 of Demon Daddy's Secret Twins

"Fuck." My voice rasps, throat raw from screaming. I let my head fall back against the wall, copper-red eyes closing. Sheprobably thinks I abandoned her. Just walked away without a word, like every other bastard who hurt her before.

The sound of wingbeats echoes down the corridor. I don't bother lifting my head. The commander loves his daily visits - all pristine white wings and righteous fury. He'll demand information. And like every day before, I'll say nothing.

My thoughts drift back to Loxley's treehouse, to the peace I found there. To her cautious smile and the way she'd slowly begun to trust me. I'd give anything to tell her why I disappeared, to explain that leaving her was never my choice.

A key scrapes in the lock. My muscles tense instinctively, but I keep my expression blank. They can break my body, but they'll never break my will. I am a demon of Galmoleth, and more importantly, I am hers - even if she doesn’t know why I vanished.

She’ll learn soon enough.

The door creaks open. White-gold wings fill the entrance, making my cell feel even smaller. The xaphan’s boots click against stone as he approaches, each step measured and precise.

"Still alive, demon?" His voice drips with false concern. "Unlike your friend down the hall. Shame about him. Should have talked."

My chest tightens. Krenoth. He'd been strong, refusing to break even when they'd torn his wings completely off. Now he's gone, they’re all gone, and I'm all that's left.

I let my head loll forward, chin dropping to my chest. My breaths come shallow and ragged - not entirely an act after all my time down here. Gods, how long has it been? The gold lines under my skin flicker erratically, suggesting weakness.

"Look at me when I speak to you, filth." A boot connects with my ribs. I don't resist the impact, letting my body slump sideways as far as the chains allow. Another kick follows, harder this time. "Getting weaker, aren't you? The chains doing their work?"

I mumble something incomprehensible, letting drool trickle from the corner of my mouth. Make him think I'm finally breaking. Let him believe I'm too far gone to fight back.

The xaphan circles me slowly, his pristine white wings rustling. "Perhaps today you'll be more cooperative."

A third kick catches my stomach. I wheeze, curling inward, but keep my eyes unfocused. Not yet. Wait for him to get closer. To really believe I'm helpless.

"Pathetic." He spits on me. "Look how far you've fallen, demon. Where's that infamous pride now?"

My muscles coil tight beneath my obsidian skin, but I maintain the act. Just a little longer. Let him think he's won. Let him think I'm finished.

The xaphan’s face twists with disgust as he crouches before me, perfect features marred by hatred. His white-gold wings flare wide, casting shadows across my cell. "Look at me when I?—"

I snap my head forward, smashing my forehead into his nose. Bone crunches. Blood sprays. Before he can recover, I twist my chains around his throat, metal links biting into pale flesh. His wings thrash wildly, feathers scattering across the stone floor.

Magic flares from his hands in blind panic - white-hot light that obliterates my restraints. Amateur mistake. The metal shatters, taking its dampening effects with it. Power surges through my veins, gold lines blazing beneath my obsidian skin. Even though I’m weak, it’s better than being absolutely powerless.

My copper-red eyes lock onto his widening ones. "You should have killed me when you had the chance."

I slam him against the wall, forearm crushing his windpipe. His pristine white robes stain red with his own blood. Such a shame to ruin all that perfection.

“But you just lost it.” My voice remains steady, controlled. "Did you think I was just hanging around waiting to die?"

The gold lines across my skin pulse brighter as my magic rebuilds. My shredded wings begin knitting back together, midnight blue membrane healing itself. The xaphan struggles, but I've learned patience in my captivity. Learned to wait for the perfect moment.

His hands claw at my arm, desperately trying to summon more magic. But fear makes him sloppy. Makes him weak. Everything these self-righteous bastards accused demons of being.

I slam the xaphan’s head against the wall one final time. His body crumples, white-gold wings splaying across the floor like a broken puppet. My lips curl. Not so perfect now.

The corridor outside my cell stretches empty in both directions. The stone walls pulse with a faint golden light - magic meant to contain prisoners. Meant to, being the operative words. I press against the shadows, copper-red eyes scanning for movement. Nothing.

My stomach cramps, a harsh reminder of weeks of near-starvation. I’ll need to find supplies before attempting the journey home. The xaphan aren't complete idiots - they'll have storage rooms somewhere.

I follow my nose down twisting hallways, past other cells. Most stand empty. The one where they kept Krenoth makes me pause. Blood stains the floor, already brown and flaking. I bow my head briefly. He died with honor.

A door at the end of the hall radiates cold air. Perfect. My claws make quick work of the lock. Inside, shelves line the walls, stocked with preserved meats, fruits, and water skins. My mouth waters at the sight.

I grab a pack from a hook and start filling it. I can't take too much, not with the need to move fast and quiet. But enough toget me back to Galmoleth. My wings still ache as they heal, but they'll hold for flight once I'm clear of this cursed place. I’ll just need to get to the edge of Ikoth and trigger the portal. I have to hope the latent magic is still waiting to be activated.

The water hits my throat like life itself. I drain one skin completely before filling several more. Food follows - dried meat, hard bread, anything that will travel well. My body screams for more, but I force myself to stop. Getting caught because I was too busy stuffing my face would be a shit way to die after surviving what had to be years of torture.

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