Page 35 of The Demon's Due
The climb to the Druid’s Circle was steep, the path littered with stones slick with moss. Morgan’s hand found hers, warm and steady, his fingers twining with a gentleness that made her chest ache.
“You’re mine, Síofra,” he murmured, voice low enough the night might swallow it. “Not because of him or some spell or bond. Because I love you. And I’ll prove it to you every chance I get.”
Her heart stumbled. She squeezed his hand back, letting his words warm her in the chill air.
“I…I love you too.”she whispered back.
Ashmedai still said nothing. There was none of his sardonic laughter or venomous commentary. Just a heavy presence brooding in the back of Morgan’s mind.
It should have been a brief moment of peace. Instead, it made the hair rise on Síofra’s neck. Something was wrong.
She glanced over her shoulder. The shadows seemed thicker here, pressing too close, moving when the wind was still. She couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes on them, tracking every step.
The outline of the menhirs loomed ahead, jagged silhouettes against the moonlit sky. But before they could step closer to the circle, a shadow detached from the others, gliding into their path.
She could feel Morgan’s wolf bristle under his skin through the bond. He tightened his grip on Síofra’s hand as the figure drew closer, a hood low over its face. Slender, manicured hands reached up to pull the hood back.
Morgan froze. Síofra sucked in a sharp breath. Alia.
In the dark, full, perfect lips drew back from a smile too sharp. “You led us on quite the merry chase, Morgan. But we always knew it would end here.”
Her eyes glowed faintly, catching the moonlight with an unholy shine.
More shadows peeled away from the treeline, slipping into the clearing one by one. Debbie was among them, her glamour wavering until her shapeshifter’s skin cracked and another scaled creature peered out with a cruel grin. Another figure Síofra half-remembered from that first night of the séance appeared too, her face white and pasty as chalk, eyes glittering with feverish devotion.
Alia’s steps were slow, deliberate, her gaze fixed on Morgan. “Hello, Morgan. Tell me-how does it feel to host the King of Demons?” She let out a snort of laughter, the sound warping as her voice deepened, her features rippling. “Of course I know. This was always my stage. And you-” her smile split wide, teeth suddenly blackened and jagged “-you were my puppets.”
Morgan bristled, shoving Síofra half behind him, but Alia only laughed harder.
She reached out with a wrinkled, claw-tipped finger, running it along Síofra’s cheek. The touch made her flinch, bile rising in her throat.
“So pretty,” Alia hissed. “She is everything to you, isn’t she, Morgan? Your mate. Your heart.” Her smile widened. “And yet, you harbor a demon with no good intentions. Weak, now. The stones, you see, bleed his strength. And yet, it is the only way for him to get home.”
Morgan felt it-Ashmedai shifting restlessly inside him, muffled and diminished. An electric hum from the circle of stones thrummed against his bones.
Alia’s voice dropped to a whisper, almost coaxing. “Surrender him to us. We’ll draw him out of you, cut the rot away. You getto keep your wolf and your mate. We can free you of him forever. Otherwise Ashmedia will take your mate and consume your wolf before he descends into the Undercroft. You will be left with nothing.”
Silence stretched.
Síofra’s breath came quick and shallow. She could feel Morgan’s heart pounding against her palm, the weight of the choice battling inside him. To be free of the burden to go home with his wolf and his mate. But Ash…
And then his demeanour changed as if he had come to a decision. His wolf snarled.
He shook his head once, sharp, final. “No.”
Alia blinked, the smile faltering.
Morgan’s voice rumbled, low and steady. “Ashmedai has been trapped for centuries. And now you plan to use him for your own ends. Noone deserves that.”
Ashmedai stirred within, surprise echoing faintly despite his weakness.“You surprise me ,Morgan.”
The air split with the coven’s answering shriek, the menhirs blazing with dark fire.
“Did you really think,”Alia rasped, “that your bond was an accident? We are the heirs of the book of shadows. We spelled your wolf within the womb, Morgan, to make you the lodestone. You were bait-our way of dragging Ashmedai into this world. He was meant to come in weak, without flesh.Ours to take and use. But we did not anticipate your wolf breaking free. Or the ring.” Her lip curled toward Síofra. “That ring was never yours. It is his anchor. Give it to me.”
Beside her, Debbie’s form blurred. Skin rippled, bones cracking, until the witch Ceridwen stood in her place-shapeshifter ,witch, betrayer.
Alia’s grin widened, showing brown stumps. “I ask again.Surrender the demon to us. Give him up, and you’ll have your wolf. Your mate. You will be free of him forever.”
