Page 22 of Demonic Division

Against my will, my thoughts travel to the little human locked in the dungeons of my castle. I think about what Cyprien said—how she could possibly be the solution to my problem. I ponder it for a moment before casting the idea to the side.

She’s just a human. Nothing more. This is all a horrible coincidence. She was never meant to bond to Cyprien. She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

I sit upright, placing my head into my hands.But I want her. Why does my soul yearn for her when it shouldn’t? Why does the thing beneath my skin pull me to her? Why does it rid my thoughts of anythingbuther?

Every part of me wants to keep her—safe, angry, happy, frightened—whatever it is, just as long as it’s all to myself. I know it’s just the effects of my bond with Cyprien, that this is a fraction of whathefeels for her. The knowledge doesn’t make it any better. It doesn’t cease that endless tugging in my chest.

With a growl, I push to a stand, forcing thoughts of the little human to the back of my mind. I gaze toward the heaped body of the scout demon, my fist clenching at my side as I’m reminded of why I came out here.

If he was so sure I was going to die, that means Slaine’s forces are only days away from attacking. And if that’s true, I don’t have any more time.

I have to break that fucking bond.

But more importantly, I have to get Dagny away from M before he can ruin everything I’ve worked for.

11

Dagny

I bendmy knees into my chest, curling deeper into Cyprien’s blanket to stave off some of the cold slicing into my bones. I’ve learned to count time by the moments between shallow breaths, which is how I know it’s been at least three days since I’ve seen another being, living or otherwise. Three days I’ve been cowered in the corner of this damp prison, utterly alone with nothing to do but sit minute by minute, fumbling the pieces of my sanity in frostbitten fingers. Calling out for a red-eyed demon that refuses to answer.

The bucket of ice Cyprien left for me is nearly empty, as is the jar of pickles, the peanut butter, and crackers. With no indication that Cyprien will be back with more any time soon, I’m forced to ration what little sustenance I have left.

How long can a person last without water, anyway? Two days? Three?

My tongue feels like sandpaper as I swallow, and my eyes travel to that last little bit of ice in the bottom of the bucket.I’m on borrowed time already…

Before I have time to spiral, I shake those dark thoughtsaway, focusing on my breathing. “It’s fine,” I whisper into the dark. “Everything is going to be fine.”

If you can fear, you can also be brave.

My mind travels to the memory of the night Cyprien took me—of all the things and people I left behind. But when I try to count them off on my fingers, I’m left with empty hands. Nothing to show for my efforts.

Perhaps Dr. Marjorie will wonder where I’ve gone—and maybe she’ll even miss me for a while—but I don’t have any friends or family who would search for me. The last of my loved ones died with my sister, and the bitterness in my heart has made creating new relationships next to impossible. The saddest part is, I’m actually no more alone down here in the dungeons than I was in the human realm. No one will come for me; no one will save me. And it’s my own making. My own self-constructed prison.

My lips part in a gasp as something tugs at my chest, ripping me apart with pain. It’s gone in the next moment, and I clutch a hand to my heart, my eyes searching the shadows for more than just monsters this time.

“M?” I whisper, my voice a desperate plea. “Are you… are you there?”

He still doesn’t answer.

I slide to the floor, rolling to my side as the tugging thread wraps around my heart and squeezes. I close my eyes forcefully, taking deep, even breaths as I attempt to calm my mind.

You’re fine. You’re going to be fine. Just fine. Just like always.

But even as I say it, I know it's a lie. I know I’m going to die here in this strange place. The only question is when.

I’m in the process of my ten-thousandth breath when a gentle scratching breaks the silence. I pick my head up, surveying the shadows through the slit in the blanket.There’s a shuffle, claws scraping stone, and then M's face appears between the bars of his cell.

My heart jumps into action at the sight of his glowing red eye, and without thinking, I scramble toward my own bars. I clutch the frozen iron in my palms, pushing my face between the spaces in order to get a better look at him.

“M.” His name is a whisper, rolling off my tongue in a desperate plea. “Where have you been? I… I’ve been calling for you.” My cheeks heat at the memory—of me crying out for the demon in my darkest moment—of his deafening silence. “I was worried you might have…”Diedis the word my mouth refuses to form, but I don’t need to.

M chuckles, gleaming white canines peeking through the shadows. “You should not worry for me. I’m harder to kill than it may appear.”

I pull my face back from the bars, my neck heating with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean it like that…”

He laughs again, the sound gentler than before. “I know you didn’t, little one. And I’m sorry if I truly did cause you to worry.”

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