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Together, we creep along the edges of the courtyard, seeking a hidden nook in the adjoining building that overlooks a broad avenue. By the time we settle, the sky has lightened to a somber gray, revealing the silhouettes of spires in stark relief. We keep to the shadows, pressed behind a fractured column that once supported a balcony. From here, we can observe the city guards rotating at their posts, lanterns passed from one shift to the next.

I hunch down, letting my wings curve around my back. Valentina leans against the wall to my left, arms hugging her knees. A quiet descends, interrupted only by distant calls from the patrols. My thoughts churn with the knowledge that I’ve stepped into a new reality—one where the King has reason to kill me outright, and where my only ally is a ragged human slave whose blood apparently defies reason.

I glance at her, noticing the rag she used to bandage her arm. Tiny flecks of dried blood dot the cloth. The faint coppery tang teases my heightened senses, reawakening the memory of that strange pull. Something in her is more than mortal. And I will unravel that secret, even if it takes every last scrap of cunning I possess.

She catches my gaze and holds it, refusing to shrink away. Neither of us speaks, but the shared understanding is clear. We’re in this together, if only because there’s no other path that makes sense. Outside, the first rays of sunlight pierce the smoky sky, rousing the city to another day of oppression and dread.

A muscle in my jaw twitches. I close my eyes, letting a rush of cold air wash over me.I’m ready to fight for my freedom, no matter the cost.And in this moment, the human at my side might be the key to unlocking that possibility. For what feels like ages, I feel something akin to cautious hope—and that, more than anything, sets my heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and fear.

When dawn breaks fully, we’ll leave this hiding place and step onto the streets with every guard in Vhoig searching for us. The contract might recoil against me, punishment waiting in the wings. But I don’t care. Let the King rage. Let his armies gather. If there’s any chance Valentina’s presence can shatter these chains, I’ll seize it with both claws and never let go.

I draw in a breath, ignoring the dull throb of the contract’s hold. My eyes drifts to the horizon where the black spires of the upper city slice the sky.Soon,I promise myself.Soon I’ll have my answers.

With that unspoken vow, I hunker down, prepared to wait out the final hours of darkness. There’s no turning back now. Whether this alliance dooms us or leads to freedom remains to be seen. But I will see it through, no matter the cost.

5

VALENTINA

Dawn claws at the grimy windows of our makeshift shelter, painting the cracked walls with smoky gray light. I’m slumped against a crumbled pillar, shoulders stiff and aching from our haphazard escape last night. My mind replays the events of the ritual chamber, the frantic run through Vhoig’s streets, and the tense hours spent curled in this abandoned nook. None of it feels real.

Yet Malphas is unmistakably here, a silent sentinel in the half-dark. He stands near the doorway with his massive arms crossed over a chest that ripples with muscle and carapace-like ridges. Every breath he takes stirs the faint red glow beneath his skin—those molten veins that mark him as a demon forged in war. His horns cast jagged shadows across the debris-littered floor, and I can’t shake the feeling that I’m trapped in a nightmare I haven’t woken from.

He meets my gaze when I shift, the faintest flicker of curiosity in his crimson eyes. An ember of tension coils low in my gut. Even though he spared me, I don’t for one second believe I’m safe. The memory of his claws severing my ropes in the ritualchamber collides with the knowledge that he could kill me in a heartbeat if he wished.

I clear my throat, trying to summon some semblance of courage. “Any movement outside?”

He tilts his head, listening. “Few patrols, but they’ve slowed.” His voice is rough, edged with a touch of weariness. “They likely think we fled the city by now.”

My stomach twists at the mention of “we.” I never asked to become an accomplice in his rebellion. Then again, if not for Malphas, I would be lifeless on a blood-soaked dais. I owe him, but that doesn’t soothe my dread.

He pushes away from the wall in a fluid motion. His wings flex, battered membranes rustling against the air. A subtle grimace crosses his face, as though the strain of defying his contract still gnaws at him. When I first realized he bore an invisible shackle to the dark elves, something akin to shock rippled through me. A demon—one of the most terrifying creatures on Protheka—leashed by a monarchy that uses him like a prized weapon.

I rise, stretching out cramped muscles. My back throbs where old welts and bruises protest every movement. “So what’s our plan? You mentioned searching for an archivist who might have answers.” Talking keeps me from fixating on my fear.

A low rumble resonates in his chest, not quite a growl. “Yes. It’s still an option. But I have…other matters to address first.”

Unease crackles through me. “Other matters?”

He exhales, stepping closer. The floorboards creak beneath his immense weight. I brace myself, but he stops just short of invading my personal space. Even so, I feel the heat radiating off him in waves. His eyes glint with predatory intensity.

“I spared you, and you followed me,” he says quietly, the words thrumming with unspoken tension. “But I sense you still think you can slip away if an opportunity arises.”

I swallow hard. “What choice do I have? Stay with you and be hunted by every elf in the city? That’s not exactly comforting.”

“You’re already hunted,” he counters, voice deceptively calm. “The difference is, with me, you stand a chance of surviving.”

I flinch. Those words carry a dark truth. Without him, I’d have no real protection. On my own, the dark elves would recapture me in days—or less. Even so, there’s a steely part of me that balks at the idea of relying on a demon. The same demon who should have devoured me hours ago.

He must read my hesitation, because he shifts his stance, shoulders rolling as if he’s preparing for a confrontation. His horns cast shifting patterns on the ceiling. “I’m not offering you freedom,” he says, each syllable cold. “If you remain with me, it’s under my rules. My protection—and my absolute control.”

My breath catches. “Absolute control,” I echo, trying to keep my voice from shaking. “That sounds like slavery under a different master.”

His jaw tightens. “You prefer to wander these streets, waiting for the elves to collar you again? Because they will. And next time, they won’t bother with a ritual. They’ll skewer you on sight.”

Anger flares. “You’re giving me two terrible options. It’s either die or place myself under your thumb.”

He clenches his fists, a tremor rippling through the molten lines on his arms. “I never claimed to be virtuous. I don’t do charity. If you want to live, you will abide by my conditions.”