Page 39 of Demonic Division

Lir lets out a low whine. “It wasn’t my fault! Honey… I thought she was out on a hunt! I had no idea she would… that she could…” He raises his head to shoot a glare toward Cyprien. When he speaks, his voice drips with venom. “It’shisfault. He was the one who started this mess. He can’t fucking control himself around her.”

“Please.Youwere the one who was all, ‘Nom nom nom, Dagny’s cunt.’” Cyprien smirks before burying his face in my neck. “The difference is I’m not holding it against you.”

Lir lets out a low whine, placing his face in his hands. “Kaebl is going to fucking kill me,” he murmurs, his voice heavily muffled.

Cyprien smirks, finding nothing but humor in thesituation. “Hedidsay you were supposed to watch her, not mount her.”

Lir’s eyes flick black, and he lunges toward Cyprien. Before he gets halfway there, Roark snags him midair, dragging him to the ground. Lir struggles against his hold, but it gets him nowhere. Several moments pass before his breathing evens out, and more until his eyes fade back to blue. Only then does Roark let him go, eyeing him warily as he dusts off.

“Are you calm?” he asks.

Lir gives him a terse nod, refusing to look at or speak to the purple demon. With a sigh, Roark rolls his eyes to the ceiling. “I need a fucking drink,” he announces. Turning on his heel, he stomps toward the door. He stops at the threshold, turning his head over his shoulder and making eye contact with me. “Anyone else who needs one is welcome to join me.”

He leaves, and an awkward silence envelops the three of us. I take my lip between my teeth, two pairs of eyes burning holes into my profile as I decide what to do. If I stay here, I’ll have to confront what just happened with the demons. But unpacking my feelings on the situation is the last thing I want to do right now—if ever. I don’t want to know why I’ve never felt alive before Cyprien and Lir touched me. I don’t want to understand my depraved desires. And I certainly don’t want to learn just how deep they go.

Without another thought, I shove my clothes on and race out of the room after Roark, twin gazes burning into my back the whole way.

22

Roark

I pullopen the door to my room, the patter of footsteps letting me know Dagny followed. For some reason, the knowledge causes my chest to hum, sends a rush of warmth to the tips of my fingers, and fills my ears with a high-pitched ringing. I’m not sure what this emotion is or why I feel so complete whenever she’s in my vicinity, but I’m starting to think it has something to do with that tugging sensation I felt down the bond earlier—when Cyprien and Lir were having their way with her. That same incessant pull that prompted me to return from my hunt early. To find her.

The little human follows me inside, silver-rimmed eyes wide and taking in the size of the room. Just like hers, it’s mostly bare—the only furniture being a small stone table next to the bed of furs. Sitting on top is a canister carved from the crystal bedrock of The Far Place, clear enough to see the contents and practically indestructible. The tapered neck opens to a wide mouth, aerating the glowing blue liquid inside.

I walk over to the table, pulling out four small glassesfrom beneath before pouring a finger’s width of the drink into each. Dagny’s eyes track my movements, lingering on the gnarled scars coating my hands and forearms.

“So… your name is Roark?”

Her voice is hesitant, and I know she’s wary of my presence—the knowledge that if I wanted, I could break her with a single blow. “That is what they call me, yes.” We stay silent for several long moments as I continue preparing the drinks. Dagny clears her throat awkwardly, and I curse my lack of conversation skills. “So… you’re from the human realm?”

“Mm-hmm,” she hums, taking her lip between her teeth. “And you’re… one of Abaddon’s pieces?”

I snap upright, nearly dropping the glasses in my shock. “Who told you that?”

“Does it matter?” she murmurs, her gaze shifting off to the side nervously.

I shake my head, blowing out a breath. “I guess not. Here,” I say, passing her one of the glasses. “For you.”

Her fingertips brush mine as she takes the drink, her eyes widening slightly as sparks fly between us. “Oh…”

Luckily, Cyprien and Lir choose that moment to make their appearance. The door flies open, smacking against the stone with a mighty crash as Cyprien storms across the room toward Dagny.

“Starting without us?” he asks, mouth widening to a manic smile. “Not very polite, Roark.”

“Not my fault you’re so fucking slow,” I grumble, passing the demons a glass. Cyprien takes his back in a single gulp, his eyes burning bright as he looks at me for another. With a sigh, I give him mine, then go to pour a new one. My eyes catch Dagny’s as I pass her by, and I jerk my chin in the direction of the furs. “Please. Have a seat.”

I watch as she pads over to my bed, crossing her long legs beneath her, hips rocking side to side as she settles in. Dagny clutches her glass to her chest, her eyes flitting back and forth between me and the drink. I can tell she’s nervous, and it distresses the beast living inside me. He wants to hold her, to make her feel safe and protected. To feel loved.

At the last thought, I shake my head, casting away those notions.

She’s just a woman.

My eyes cut toward Dagny—taking in the enchanting way her skin glows beneath the light of the silver moon.

Okay, maybe not justanywoman.

I down my drink and pour another portion, blinking rapidly against the tears that spring to my eyes. Welwig sap has a harsh astringent aftertaste, but the effects are well worth the minor discomfort.

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