Page 1 of Demon Bound

Chapter 1

“Ihave something to show you.”

Raiya looked up at her husband, her knife and fork frozen in her hands. He was smiling. It was a smile that said he knew something she didn’t.

When Lord Nirlan Han-gal smiled, it was usually because someone else was suffering. In her year of marriage to him, that smile had never preceded anything pleasant.

“What is it?” Raiya asked, carefully keeping her tone neutral.As they finished dinner, she looked down at her plate and realized she hadn’t eaten much. She’d been eating less and less, lately.

His smile broadened. “It’s a surprise.” He went to her, holding out his hand. He would have been angry if she didn’t take it, so she stood, letting him lead her by the arm from the dining room into the cold halls of their dark, empty castle.

Long ago, when Uulantaava had been ruled by innumerable warlords scattered across the plains, dozens of men and women had been housed within these halls alongside the nobles they served. These days, it was just Raiya and Nirlan and a few servants. Despite the cold and the emptiness, it probably wouldhave been a nice place to live if she’d been sharing it with someone she loved.

The longer they walked, the more apprehensive she became. When he brought her to the cobweb-laden door that led to the dungeon, she stopped. It had been decades since any prisoners had been kept there, but she very much doubted there was anything there she’d want to see.

“I think I’m feeling a bit sick, actually,” she said, a last half-hearted attempt to escape. “I think I should go to bed early.”

Nirlan acted as if she hadn’t said anything. He opened the door, and she stared into the blackness beyond. He pushed her forward.

She had only ventured into the dungeon beneath the crumbling castle once before. The darkness of the place would have been absolute had it not been for the candle in Nirlan’s other hand, and the smell of the ancient stone corridors was one of dank dirt and old mold. She wasn’t dressed for the cold, and her thin robe did nothing to insulate her. It was like being inside a grave.

He brought her to a stop in front of another door. Glowing runes were carved in overlapping circles all over it. For a moment, her interest overshadowed her fear, and she began picking out runes she recognized.Hold. Strength. Imprison.A locking enchantment. She doubted Nirlan could read a word of it. Eunaios must have crafted it for him. Nevertheless, when Nirlan produced a key and slid it into the lock, it opened smoothly.

Raiya was hit with a dark, powerful wave of something unseen—something that made her shudder. It was not her imagination. Something was there. Nirlan had always had a less-than-savory interest in dark magics, but she’d never felt anything like this strange force that permeated the dungeon.

She didn’t have the energy that evening to fake enthusiasm, and there was no point in trying to dissuade him from whatever he was planning. “What is this, Nirlan?”

He looked down at her, and he smiled again. Gods, she hated that smile. She hated how much she’d once found it beautiful.

“Wouldn’t you like to find out?” he said.

She didn’t reply. He would take her through that doorway, to whatever awful thing lay beyond it, no matter what she said.

“Are you too good to speak to me now?” he asked, his hand squeezing her wrist a little.

He enjoyed causing her discomfort, and he enjoyed trapping her in that discomfort. He loved the sense of control.

She had little pride left, and rarely bothered to defy him. But she was in a defiant mood today. So she said nothing, enjoying and fearing the look of growing displeasure on his face.

He shoved her into the next passage, which was somehow even darker than the previous one. The door banged shut behind them.

“I sometimes wonder if you realize how easy you have it,” Nirlan said. His voice was soft, but it seemed loud in the claustrophobic silence of the tunnel. “You’ve never faced real adversity. You haven’t had to work for anything. You don’t have any education, talent, or skills, and you don’t need any. All you have to do is sit there and be quiet and pretty, and open your legs once in a while. And yet you struggle to do even those simple tasks.”

The comment about the lack of skills stung more than the one about opening her legs—because it was true. She kept her expression blank, because she refused to let him see how much the words hurt her.

But adversity? She and her mother had struggled to make ends meet for years. Her father had left her mother when she was young, and her mother had died years ago. She had no otherfamily. She had no trade and no skills other than her knowledge of runes and enchanting.

Her mother had nurtured her love of magic from a young age, using what little money they had to buy her books and finance apprenticeships with mages and magoarchaeologists who were exploring the local Auren-Li ruins. But since Raiya hadn’t had the fortune of being born a mage, she would never be able to forge functional enchantments. Runes needed magic to become something more than just markings, and she had none.

There were no academic institutions in remote northern Uulantaava. There was no use for a woman with a passionate love for dead languages and magic she couldn’t use. Nirlan had saved her from a life of poverty.

He took his hand off her to quickly brush a stray lock of black hair behind his ear, as if he was annoyed it had strayed. His hair was long, straight, and rarely less than flawless. His skin was light and evenly toned, and his face was perfectly symmetrical. He was a handsome man, in a slender, dandyish way, which was exactly the type she liked. It was one of the many reasons she’d married him. If only looks correlated with quality of character.

“You’re spoiled,” he said. “I imagine you think you’re better than other people because men look at you when you walk down the street.”

“I don’t.”

“You shouldn’t. Every time I go into town, I see dozens of younger, prettier girls. They probably have better temperaments than you, as well. Do you realize how lucky you are to be with me?”

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