“Foolish witch, I could and would take them regardless of my loss,” he replies, turning back to glare down at me scoldingly like I’m some sort of petulant child. I remain still, picturing his death in my mind, as he continues. “I have no need nor desire for your sympathy, witch. I simply thought you may find it interesting. It’s not as if you have anything better to do.”
“If you’re so concerned about me getting bored, you could always let me out of here?” I suggest sarcastically, fully aware he won’t be letting me go anywhere. I’m well and truly trapped in this cell with an invisible fucking door. The only way Ican see out of here is through activating the right rune while using teleportation. How the hell am I supposed to escape or be rescued when I’m surrounded by walls and magic? I’m practically sealed in a damn fucking box.
“As I already informed you, I won’t allow any risks to the child’s wellbeing or to my ability to bond them to me.”
“They’re not in any danger from anyone but you!” I snap, seething inside. A part of me still wants to lunge for his fucking throat like an animal, knowing the danger he poses. It’s also that danger which holds me back, Torrin’s words coming to my mind in a painful reminder of my position here.
‘I wouldn’t count on us winning.’
He hadn’t even been sure all three of the hunters could take him on, and that’s when they’re prepared and working together. So what chance do I really stand when I’m pregnant and alone? Stuck in an unfamiliar location and at a demon king’s fucking mercy for my continued survival. He batted off my magic like it was nothing. I feel like a fucking fly would have proved more irritating to him than I had.
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Paimon replies calmly after a moment, completely ignoring my raised voice. Though, I suppose my anger isn’t very concerning to the Lord of fucking Wrath. “I wasn’t only keeping an eye on you to track your progress or to see if the sire would reveal themselves. I was also watching to ensure others of your kind didn’t discover your condition. It was a witch who killed my son, after all.”
A witch killed his kid?
Great. I wonder how much that has to do with his blatant hatred for us ‘lesser beings.’
“I wouldn’t let anyone hurt them.”That includes you, asshole.I add the last part silently, temporarily swallowing down my rage in order to keep him talking as I realise it’s not just satisfying my curiosity that’s at stake here. Knowingeverything I can about this demon and his motivations could help me figure a way out of this mess. Maybe I can’t physically tear him to pieces or hex him into a frog and throw him into a pot of boiling water, but I can learn his weaknesses. Maybe I can even convince him of my sympathy, to the point he won’t see the knife coming for his throat until it cuts his skin.
“That’s most reassuring to hear, considering the witch who murdered my son was his own mother.”
“You’re lying,” I blurt, the shock of what he said temporarily overriding my brain and doing little to help in my newly concocted plan. How could…how could someone in my situation do that? He’s trying to say what, that she waited for the baby to be born and then just…killed them? Murdered a newborn fucking baby? Hehasto be making this up.
“I wish I was.”
I really hate the raw honesty I hear in those four fucking words. There’s none of his usual demeanour in his voice, none of the formal airs or derision for his perceived lessors. It’s just…devastation. It’s so unusual that it should feel fake. It shouldn’t ring like the truth right down to my soul, but it does. It’s like a stab to the fucking gut as I’m forced to consider the possibility he’s actually telling the truth.
It doesn’t change the fact he obviously shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near a child, not even his own, but for the mother to do that...why would she? How could she? Is that why Ash was so quick to offer—no!I recoil from the thought as if I’m mentally slamming a book shut and throwing it right at the nearest wall. He wouldn’t think I would do that. As little time as we’ve been able to spend together, he has to know I could never hurt our baby.
“I’m glad you appear to have some maternal instincts,” Paimon says, apparently deciding to take my silence as an opportunity to continue. “Hopefully, should you choose tobehave and live, you won’t fail to care for them as she did. That she was unable to stomach what she saw as an abomination for even five years…”
He can’t possibly mean what I think he does. Absolutely not.
“When I finally found her, she gloated over how she took my child away from me. She went on about the relief she felt once he was gone and how she wished she’d found the strength to end his life sooner. I foolishly hoped it was a lie, that she was simply hiding him from me. She told me to feel the space with my power to see it for myself, and so I did.”
I wrap both of my arms around my middle, exhaustion and horror sending my back sliding down the wall behind me till I’m sitting on the floor. I drag my knees up as close as I can to my chest while I breathe deeply, trying desperately to get a hold on my emotions. Other people’s experiences don’t usually hit me this hard. The similarity of our situations, along with the addition of pregnancy hormones, must be what’s making this so difficult to hear.
I wish it was the end of the story, but Paimon just keeps on talking. It’s almost as if a dam has been broken, and now there’s nothing to hold it all back. Has he ever spoken about this since it happened until now? Or is it all a preplanned attempt at emotional manipulation?
“Once I confirmed the past presence of a child’s demonic energy in the home and then the undeniable flicker of it being snuffed out, she still continued. She told me in detail how she hated his face. That she was repulsed by his true demonic eyes whenever he failed to hide them. She complained how everything would die around them, more sympathy for insignificant plants and bugs than for her own blood!”
I hear something break, but I keep staring at my knees. One part of my head is wondering what the fuck was wrong with this woman, and the other’s wondering what horrific shit Paimonmust have done to make her that way. Not that anything could justify taking out pain and anger on a literal child, but maybe she wasn’t in her right mind. Either way, it’s a fucking tragedy. All of the threats I’ve been worrying about, and I’ve never once considered myself one of them.
“She loathed the powers my child gave to her as she carried him. She felt they made her an abomination, too. The ungrateful wench. She was made better, given an opportunity she should have felt thankful for!” Paimon rages, his anger seeming to unshackle him from his cold-mannered self-control.
It’s terrifying. He may want my baby, but what if he loses it and accidentally kills the both of us right now?
“I’m sorry,” I tell him, only half-lying as my heart truly hurts for the child who surely suffered far too much in his short existence.
I’m surprised when my words seem to have the desired effect. The ranting stops, and nothing else in the room breaks. After a few tense moments of waiting for him to continue, or even for a response of some kind, I glance up, finding him gone instead.
The sink in the bathroom section of the room is badly cracked, and there are indentations of what looks like claw marks scratching right across the wall, but I’m all alone in my little prison now and feeling far better for it. As if protesting the thought, I feel a sudden swishing sensation in my stomach. I choke on a mixture of a sob and a laugh at the feeling before the tears start falling down my cheeks like a river, my own personal dam burst open.
Correction, I’m not entirely alone.
It takes an embarrassingly long time to calm down, for the floodgates to shut and my breathing to finally steady. We’re still trapped, being held hostage by a psychotic demon lord, but at least we’re both alive and unharmed…for now.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR