Page 14 of Demonic Division

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I watchthe little human through the dark, my skin prickling with the desire to reach through the bars and touch her. My familiar slinks around my shoulders, fuzzy tail brushing my cheek as its claws dig into my weathered jacket, piercing my skin. Warm blood trickles from the fresh wounds, but I can barely feel it. Every cell of my body is laser-focused on the heavenly creature locked in the cell opposite mine—the little light forced to rot away in this dark chamber as I am.

How tragic. How sensational.

I crawl closer on all fours, careful to keep my face from the light burning from the silver sconce in the far corner of the dungeon.She’s lovely. A pretty little light to snuff out. To consume.

I lick my lips as Nya lets out a soft meow, nuzzling the side of her face against mine.

I know, girl, I know. But you must be patient.

Nya hisses, her claws slowly retracting one by one out of my skin before jumping from my shoulder and slinking into the flickering shadows. Leaving me alone with thebeautiful, brown-eyed human. To watch. To smell. To imagine.

Oh, the terrible things I would do to you, sweet little thing.My pupils lengthen to catlike slits, allowing me to see her clearer through the shadows. The gap in Cyprien’s coat exposes the human clothes beneath—silky pink pajamas that cling to her curves, outlining the peak of her nipples. Long tan legs curl up and into her chest, exposing the curve of her ass through the slit in the jacket.

My smile widens at the sight, canines lengthening down to my chin and piercing the fragile flesh. I use all of my will to get her to shift, to expose the sweet little cunt that lies between her supple thighs. But the tiny human stays in place, her muscles quivering ever so slightly in a fight against the damp cold of the dungeon.

The thing beneath my skin howls for her, making it impossible to sit still. To think of anything but her spread bare beneath me, of the sounds that would pour from her lips the first time I claim her as mine.

Mine. I like the sound of that.

A purr rumbles in my throat as I crawl toward the bars, reaching up and running a long, clawed finger down the iron bars.

Soon, sweet little thing. Soon.

As I retreat into the shadows of my cell, I find that I, too, will have to learn a harsh lesson in patience.

But oh, will it be worth it.

7

Dagny

Time really does ceaseto exist in the dungeon. With no light, I’m unable to tell how many hours it’s been since Lir locked the door and left me in the dark. Something in my gut tells me it’s been days—not hours—and though I don’t want to believe it, the stiffness in my bones and joints tells another story. The pinching hunger in my stomach has turned to a hollow burn, one that rivals the fire in the tips of my fingers and toes, and I know they’ll succumb to frostbite before long.

I tug Cyprien’s coat tighter around my shoulders, the chattering of my teeth rattling my skull and causing a headache to blossom in my temples. I want so badly to close my eyes and drift into nothing, but there’s no Cyprien around this time to save me. No one to pull me back from the brink. And so I sit, hour by hour, staring at the cracks in the bleak stone walls.

I’m in the middle of counting to one thousand for the umpteenth time when a slamming door echoes into the air. I sit upright, my eyes squinting through the dark.

Cyprien’s smiling face materializes in the doorway, hisbroad shoulders brushing the archway on either side. He has a blanket strewn across one arm and a bucket of chipped ice in the other.

He brings a finger to his lips in a shushing motion. “Don’t tell, but I brought you stuff,” he says, his tone chipper. He bounds over to my cell, pushing the blanket through the bars.

“How am I supposed to know it’s not another trap?”

A pitiful whine echoes in the air. “None of this was a trap. I’m only trying to make the best out of the situation?—”

“You mean the one where you dragged me here against my will and let your buddy lock me in a cell? Excuse me if I fail to see the silver lining.”

Cyprien whimpers, hanging his head. “I don’t like when you’re mad at me.”

“Well, I don’t like being locked in a dark hole in the ground. Looks like we’re both in a bit of a pickle.”

“Dagny…”

I pick my head up, finding Cyprien’s eyes glittering with unshed tears. “What? Am I supposed to behappyabout this?”

He shakes his head in desperation. “I don’t… I’m just trying to help…”

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