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We start walking, tension coiling in my stomach with each step. The longer we remain in the open, the higher the risk of confrontation with the city’s guard. I catch glimpses of Malphas’s clenched jaw, the flicker of pained annoyance each time the invisible contract presses against him for daring to defy the King.

When we slip into another cramped side street, he halts, spinning to face me. His presence is overwhelming, that looming height, the ridges of muscle, and the broken horn that seems more a trophy of war than a sign of weakness.

“I need to make something clear,” he says, voice pitched low. “This arrangement isn’t a simple alliance. You have sworn yourself to me, and I intend to hold you to that oath.”

I stiffen, remembering the weight of his clawed hand on my head. “I haven’t forgotten.”

“Good.” He steps closer, and I catch the faint scorch of brimstone on his breath. “Because from this point on, you obey me without question. If you endanger this mission—my mission—I will not hesitate to remind you of who holds the power here.”

My pulse throbs in my temples. Anger mingles with helplessness. “I understand.”

His molten stare lingers, searching my face, as if judging whether I’m telling the truth. Then he leans his head. “We pressforward. But know this, if it comes down to your life or my freedom, I will choose my freedom. Don’t ever doubt it.”

A chill threads through my veins. My nails bite into my palms again, but I keep my expression steady. “You’ve made that perfectly clear.”

With that, he turns, resuming the trek toward our destination. My steps slow as I absorb the finality of his words. Yes, he’s granted me a reprieve from death—but only because it serves him. I think about the vow I made, kneeling on cracked tiles.I will serve you until I can stand on my own.The day I break free of every yoke—dark elf or demon—will be one I fight for, no matter the price.

We walk in silence, navigating Vhoig’s labyrinthine alleys, each footstep echoing with unspoken tension.I’ve left my old life behind,I realize, a mixture of conflicting emotions tangling in my chest.Now I’m bound to a demon, stepping onto a path I can’t fully comprehend.Fear and faint hope war within me. Perhaps, in this deviant alliance, I’ll find the key to unraveling not just my mysterious bloodline, but the entire system that enslaves us all.

I keep pace at his side. We pass a row of shuttered shops, the spires of the Temple District looming in the distance. My battered heart hammers out a single truth that there’s no going back. I’ve chosen survival under Malphas’s dominion, and in doing so, I’ve crossed a threshold I never imagined possible.

Whatever awaits us in the next steps—archives, ancient secrets, or even the King’s wrath—at least I’m no longer the sacrificial offering waiting to be slaughtered. I let that small triumph fortify me, steeling my spine against the uncertain road ahead.

And so we continue, two fugitives united by desperation, forging a bond that might shatter the chains of fate—or damn us both in the process.

6

MALPHAS

Ilead Valentina along a winding path behind an abandoned shrine, deep in the underbelly of Vhoig’s outer wards. We’ve navigated back alleys and sidestreets all day, dodging the city guard. Now, as dusk settles in, I sense it’s time to move beyond the metropolis entirely. Darkness provides cover, and I need to reach my hidden fortress without a legion of elves on our trail.

My decision sets a bristling tension between us. Valentina’s shoulders stiffen each time I take an unexpected turn. She walks half a step behind, close enough to sense my body heat yet far enough to watch my every move. Her posture radiates wariness. I imagine she’s wondering if I’ll slice her open the moment we’re clear of the city.

Truth be told, the question gnaws at me as well. My instincts are split. I’m tempted to be rid of this mortal nuisance, but something about her presence lingers like a burr in my consciousness. My contract with the elves grows unstable whenever she’s near, and I’ve never encountered such an anomaly. If that means I can break free, I won’t cast her aside yet.

I usher her into a tunnel that smells of stale water and moss. The damp walls glisten under flickering lanterns left behind by smugglers. Our footsteps echo with hollow finality, the only conversation an uneasy silence. Eventually, we emerge on the city’s outskirts, near a cracked archway. The last watchtower of Vhoig looms behind us—its guards likely scanning the horizon, convinced I might still be hiding in the city proper.

“The fortress is outside the dark elves’ domain?” Valentina asks, her voice echoing in the twilight.

I offer a clipped nod. “My realm is well beyond their immediate control. They know it exists but seldom attempt to breach it. The wards there would rend them apart.”

She makes a noncommittal noise, tugging the borrowed coat tighter around her frame. Her eyes dart to the flat expanse of fields ahead, then the vast swamplands that border Vhoig’s territory. A hush drapes over the environment—no throngs of people, no clang of forging metal or hum of arcane engines. Only the soft rustle of wind across sickly reeds.

We press on. With each step, the ground grows soggier, until our boots sink into the bog. Valentina grimaces as murky water seeps through worn leather. I sense her disquiet, though she doesn’t complain. The watery marsh soon shifts into a region of twisting trees with blackened bark. Their gnarled roots snarl across the muddy ground, forming a natural labyrinth. Overhead, a few pale stars flicker into visibility, half-obscured by swirling clouds.

“It doesn’t look like any farmland I’ve seen,” she comments, surveying the bleak terrain. “What happened here?”

I spare the area a quick glance, recalling the centuries I’ve wandered these outskirts. “War,” I reply flatly. “The dark elves had a skirmish against orc tribes decades ago. They used blood magic that tainted the soil. Now, nothing wholesome grows here.”

A trace of revulsion crosses her face. Yet she presses forward, nimble steps avoiding the worst of the boggy pits. Her resilience impresses me, most humans would have turned back by now, cursing the miserable trek. Valentina’s jaw sets with stubborn resolve.

Night deepens. I focus on the path, letting my demon senses guide me. The faint hum of wards in the distance signals the boundary of my stronghold. My fortress stands on a patch of raised terrain that juts above the swamp, encompassed by illusions and protective runes. Approaching it is no small feat, even for me. With Valentina at my side, I must carefully part the wards rather than crashing through them. One misstep, and the very magic I placed could incinerate her.

Soon, we reach a moss-coated boulder leaning against the trunk of a withered tree. I halt, feeling the wards hiss with recognition. They swirl around me like invisible serpents, seeking to confirm my identity. Valentina looks around warily, uncertain what’s happening.

“What is this?” she asks, stepping closer but keeping a wary distance from the boulder.

I kneel, pressing a clawed hand against the stone. “A threshold,” I murmur. My molten veins flare with dull light, responding to the fortress’s defenses. I sense them coil in curiosity at Valentina’s presence. The wards recoil from the anomaly in her blood, unsure whether to treat her as an intruder or a guest. I grit my teeth, channeling a subtle command to let her pass.