Page 80 of To Hunt a Demon King

“Let me up, Elara,” he growled again. “Then you get your truth.”

I laughed hollowly, realizing that if he wouldn’t give in now, he probably never would.

“You lied to me too,” Carnon snapped, sounding angrier now, rather than amused by my magic. “Don’t pretend this was a one-sided offense.”

“Oh,” I said, laughing shrilly in my disbelief. “I see. So it was alright for you to lie to protect yourself, but not for me.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he said, cursing and breathing heavily as if still trying to break the binding spell.

“It won’t break until I break the circle,” I said, also feeling smug at this. “So you may as well stop struggling.”

“You’re changing the subject,” he said. “Would you have told me who you were if I hadn’t demanded payment for the deal?”

“Probably not,” I confessed, feeling a stab of guilt. “But you had the chance earlier.”

“And I asked for one more night,” he replied, still sounding angry. “One more night to enjoy you, to enjoy us, before we had to deal with the messiness of the truth. I was going to tell you everything tomorrow.”

“Oh well then all is forgiven,” I replied sarcastically. “Let me just climb into bed with you and you can lie to me some more,” I spat. “I’m done with this. With you. I’m leaving in the morning. I’ll take my chances on my own.”

I swiped a pillow and a blanket from the bed as he struggled to release himself. Clearly, demon magic couldn’t simply undo witch magic that easily. I felt a little smug with that knowledge.

“Elara, stop,” he said, gritting his teeth as he struggled. “This is a mistake, and I can’t explain myself magicked to the fucking bed.”

“Then you should have explained it to me when you were standing,” I replied, another tear running down my cheek. I swiped it away, angry that I was letting myself cry over this man, this male rather, who had lied to me over and over. I made myself a nest on the couch, determined to get at least a little sleep tonight.

“Please, Elara,” he sighed, clearly having given up the struggle against the spell. “I know you’re angry and I hurt you. I’m more sorry than you can possibly know. But there is so much you don’t understand yet. I’ve been trying to protect you.”

I said nothing, putting a pillow over my head to muffle out the rest of his speech. I didn’t want to hear more excuses or professions of sincerity. I wanted to be angry and hurt and let those feelings run their course. I wanted to rage at something, and I wanted to feel like that rage was vindicated.

So I lay there, finally falling asleep with the pillow still over my head and tears running down my face.

???

I awoke feeling puffy and congested after a night of crying. My anger had smoldered to a simmer in my gut, like a living being sleeping alongside the strange demon magic in me. My head was still under the pillow, and I took a deep, if somewhat musty, breath, trying to mentally prepare myself for the day.

I would demand a horse and money, and I would go find my own way to get by in the Darklands. Maybe I would return to find my mother or keep hunting for a witch mirror so I could get to her. Or maybe I’d hire a mercenary or something to help me. I wasn’t sure. I just knew I needed to get away from Carnon.

“Contemplating doing something rash, Red?” Carnon’s voice came from far closer than it should.

I started, dropping the pillow and staring at Carnon, now fully dressed in an elegant black suit, sitting across from me in a plush armchair, ankle crossed over a knee as if we were having a casual conversation. He wore no crown, but the black horns made him seem more regal and fearsome than he had in his human glamour. He was also about a thousand times more handsome, and I cursed myself for noticing.

There was a steaming pot of tea or coffee on the table, and some platters of pastries and fruit, and I realized he must have been up for some time.

“How did you break my spell?” I asked, genuinely shocked he had managed it. I felt my hair to find the too short lock I had cut the night before. Had it not been enough payment?

“Demon King, remember?” he said, sipping a cup of coffee like it was any other morning and looking completely unbothered and at ease. In the light of day I noticed that his tongue was forked like a snake, and I shuddered, remembering the feel of that tongue in places it would never go again. “Breakfast?”

I sat up, frowning at the food and at him, and rubbing my hands down my hot, probably red cheeks. “Why don’t you look more…demonic?” I asked, taking in his appearance anew. Despite the horns and the tongue, and the eyes I supposed, he didn’t look very different.

His face darkened a little as he smirked, taking a sip of coffee. “You haven’t seen my beast yet,” he muttered. I grimaced at what I believed was an innuendo, and he sighed, putting down the coffee cup and leaning forward to look at me more closely.

“I am sorry, Red,” he said, gaze boring into mine as if he could convince me of his remorse through sheer will power. His snake eyes were unsettling, but not unpleasant to look at, and I gave myself a little mental shake to make me focus. “Truly, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“Well you did,” I snapped. He flinched a little, and I didn’t have the patience to examine the fact that I had made the Demon King flinch. “And don’t call me that,your Majesty.”

Carnon sighed, drawing a hand over his face as if he had not been expecting a lengthy struggle with me today.

“Fine,my Lady,” he replied, pouring irritation into the title. I felt a little bolt of satisfaction run through me that I was succeeding in annoying him. He sat back, picking up his coffee mug again and studying me. “We need to discuss what happens next.”

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