Page 23 of Demon Monster's Little Human

I feel it now.

Not just its magic, but its wrongness.

It isn’t just a relic. It’s alive. And it wants something.

Dain catches my hesitation.

His claws wrap around my waist this time, hard, possessive. “Focus.”

I try. I try.

But something inside me is pulling.

Not just the artifact.

The mine itself.

Whatever the dark elves are digging for—it’s waking.

Dain notices it at the same time I do. His wings flare.

"We have to get out of here," he says.

The dark elves regroup, closing in again.

A chant rises from one of the remaining elves, his words curling into the stone, into the walls.

Dain flinches. The artifact’s magic is messing with him.

I don't hesitate this time. I grab a fallen blade from the ground. The elf chanting doesn’t expect me to attack.

I slam the dagger into his heart.

His mouth gapes, eyes widening in shock.

I twist the blade and blood dribbles past his lips.

His magic shatters and the artifact falters.

Dain moves instantly, catching my wrist and yanking me toward him.

More elves are coming.

I hear it. The roar of the river.

Dain hears it, too. His gaze snaps toward the cavern’s edge.

The slaves are gone.

Some fought, but most ran.

Now, only we remain.

The elves lunge one final time.

Dain doesn’t let them.

He throws me into the river.

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