Page 9 of Bargain with the Demon King
"They're impossible."
"Most things here are." He leans back, shirt pulling tight across his chest. His breathing follows no natural rhythm—too controlled, too measured. "Does it frighten you?"
"Everything here frightens me."
"Good. Fear might keep you alive." His knee finds mine, pressure unmistakable. "Though fear won't save you from me."
The landscape blurs—inverted trees, lakes reflecting nothing real, mountains that fold into themselves. His leg maintains contact for the entire hour, heat bleeding through fabric.
Smoke rises ahead.
"Is that—"
"The village." His features sharpen, shift toward something more dangerous. His horns seem to elongate. "It seems my lords require a reminder."
The carriage halts at the village edge. Almost normal—wooden buildings, dirt paths, gardens. Look closer. Wood that never rots. Dirt that sparkles with crystal fragments. Gardens growing plants that shouldn't exist, too bright, too still.
Humans huddle in doorways, terrified. But not of Azzaron.
Three demons circle the village center, tossing something between them, laughing at wet impact sounds.
A human arm.
"Stay in the carriage."
"But—"
"Stay." The command vibrates through my bones.
He walks toward them. Each step lands with the same weight, the same timing, eating the distance with an unhurried certainty. This is control incarnate.
The demons notice his shadow. Freeze. The arm thuds forgotten.
The largest bolts. Azzaron catches his throat one-handed, lifts him clean off the ground. Claws puncture flesh, black blood welling.
"You forgot my law." Soft voice that carries anyway. "Humans under my protection are not prey."
Gurgling response.
"Excuses? From you?"
The execution is efficient art. Claws through chest, downward tear. Black blood sizzles on crystal dirt. Body drops, twitching.
I should be horrified. I am horrified. But I can't stop watching the absolute control, the economy of movement. No hesitation. No panic. A deep, unwelcome pulse starts between my legs, a rhythm of violence and power that has nothing to do with desire and everything to do with awe.
Two demons hit their knees, babbling.
"You have five seconds to give me a reason not to paint this village with your entrails."
They can't. Fear stole their words.
He kills them with the same efficiency. Three corpses leak black into crystal earth. Humans watch from doorways—still terrified, but protected.
He returns to the carriage spotless despite the carnage. Expression calm. But his eyes burn brighter, and when he enters, he sits beside me instead of across.
"You killed them. Without hesitation."
"They broke my law."
