Page 50 of The Demon's Little Girl
"But I won't," I whisper against his ear. "Because the cost was too high. It shouldn't have taken her pain to give me purpose."
I feel the exact moment his windpipe begins to collapse under my grip. The wet crackling sound of cartilage giving way. His eyes go wide one last time, a flash of pure terror and regret, before beginning to glaze.
"You don't touch what's mine," I tell his dying face, each word carved from granite and rage. "Ever."
The light fades from those gold eyes—Nalla's eyes, but empty now of everything that made them familiar. His body goes limp in my grip, a dead weight that I hold for another long moment just to be certain.
When I finally release him, he crumples to the floor like discarded trash. Which, I suppose, is exactly what he's always been.
26
LIORA
The footsteps in the hallway make me shrink deeper into the corner, pulling Nalla closer against my chest. She's finally stopped crying, her tiny fists clutching at my dress as exhaustion weighs her down. Every sound outside this door feels like a threat, every creak of the floorboards a promise that he's coming back.
But then I hear Avenor's voice, low and urgent, speaking to someone just outside.
"She's in there. Just— Be gentle."
My breath catches. Rovak. It has to be Rovak, which means Xharn might still be in the house, might still be looking for me. The door handle turns and I press myself harder against the wall, as if I could disappear entirely into the stone.
The door swings open and there he is—Rovak, filling the doorway like a mountain of shadows and safety. But something's wrong. His gray skin is spattered with dark stains that catch the lamplight from the hallway. Blood. Fresh blood covers his hands, his forearms, splashed across the front of his shirt like paint.
He's shaking. Not with fear—I've never seen Rovak afraid of anything—but with barely contained fury that makes the air around him feel electric. His pitch-black eyes find mine immediately, and the rage burning there should terrify me. Would terrify anyone with sense.
Instead, I feel something inside my chest uncurl for the first time in hours. He looks like violence incarnate, like death given form, but the moment his gaze settles on me huddled in the corner with Nalla, his entire expression softens.
"Liora." My name on his lips sounds like a prayer, broken and reverent. He takes a single step into the room, then stops, hands hovering uncertainly at his sides. "Are you hurt? Did he—" His voice cracks on the words he can't quite force out.
I shake my head quickly, the movement jerky and desperate. "No. Not today."
Relief floods his features, but it's complicated by something else. Something that looks almost like guilt. He sinks to his knees just inside the doorway, making himself smaller, less imposing. The blood on his hands gleams wetly as he clasps them together.
"Liora, I need to ask you something, and I need you to know that whatever the answer is, it doesn't change anything between us. Do you understand?"
My throat constricts. I know what he's going to ask before the words leave his lips. Have known this moment would come eventually, despite all my careful evasion and silence.
"Is Xharn Nalla's father?"
The question hits like a physical blow. My whole body starts shaking—not the gentle tremor of fear, but violent shudders that make Nalla stir against me with a small sound of protest. I can't speak, can't breathe, can't do anything but shake as two years of buried shame comes roaring to the surface.
Rovak's eyes close for a long moment, his jaw working like he's fighting back words that would only make this worse. When he opens them again, the fury is gone, replaced by something infinitely more devastating.
Heartbreak.
"I should have known." His voice is barely above a whisper, thick with self-recrimination. "His reputation... the way he looks at women like they're things to be consumed. I should have fucking known and protected you better."
"Rovak—"
"He's dead." The words fall between us like stones, final and absolute. "I killed him. For what he did to you, for every moment of fear he put you through, for making you run from the only place you should have felt safe. He's dead, and he'll never hurt anyone again."
The room seems to tilt around me. Dead. Xharn is dead. The creature who haunts my nightmares, who convinced me I was ruined and worthless, who made me believe Rovak could never want me once he knew the truth—gone.
Relief hits me like a physical force, so overwhelming that I start crying again. But these tears feel different. Cleaner somehow, like they're washing away poison that's been festering in my soul for two years.
"Avenor." Rovak's voice carries that note of command that makes people jump to obey. His guard appears in the doorway immediately, taking in the scene with those sharp navy eyes.
"Take Nalla," Rovak says quietly, never looking away from me. "Give us some time to talk."
