Page 13 of A Daemon’s Alliance (Daemons & Lumens)

Michaela

T he lazy morning sun pulled me from one of the best sleeps I’d had in years.

I lay in bed, my eyes closed, playing out the scenes from last night in my mind.

Morax brought out a side of me I’d never explored before.

He made my body feel things and my lips say things I had only ever read in smutty novels.

My body tingled at the memory of his tongue between my legs and my fingers tugging at his dark hair, silently begging him for more.

And I wanted more. Even now, my pussy throbbed and I knew if I slipped a finger or two down there, I would be soaked.

Gods damn, I was falling hard for my daemon.

And he was. Mine. He spoke the same words to me over and over.

I was his. I belonged to him. And he was right.

I was ruined for any future with some average human.

My body submitted to him irrevocably. And my heart was following close behind.

I sat up quickly, needing a cold shower.

Morax said something about killing that daemon, and he wasn’t here now.

Nervous energy made my anxiety grow. A part of me thought I would know if he were seriously injured.

There were moments when I thought I could feel his emotions.

The tiny scar where he cut my hand and our blood mingled would throb.

I meant to ask him about the scar; I never had scars from injuries because of my ability to heal so quickly.

I pressed my nail along the thin line and shivered when a jolt of electricity shot through me. He wasn’t dead, I was sure of that.

After my shower, I slipped on a simple green summer dress and sneakers.

I applied minimal makeup and quickly brushed the knots from my honey-colored hair.

My father wasn’t home, and we were also out of coffee, so I decided to go into town and grab myself an iced latte treat.

I hopped on my bicycle, preferring to ride instead of walk.

The summer sun beat down on my bare arms and legs as the wind whipped my hair.

The exercise felt good, and the quiet ride helped calm my nerves.

The coffee shop wasn’t packed, and I slipped through the line and found a table by the window to sip my iced hazelnut latte.

I was only a few sips in when a stranger sat down in the chair across from me.

He was around my age, with olive skin and dark hair.

His deep-brown eyes were hollow. The lack of emotion instantly put me on edge.

“I need to deliver a message.” His words were as unfeeling as his eyes. “It’s about your family. Follow me. Now.”

I didn’t want to follow. It had to be a trap. And Morax wasn’t here. But he mentioned my family. How could I not follow? I cursed inwardly at my lack of weapons. Why didn’t I at least strap a blade to my thigh, damnit. My little blade was sitting on my nightstand, perfectly useless to me now.

“Morax, please come find me,” I whispered as I followed the stranger out of the shop, hoping my daemon would hear me.

I stayed several paces back, giving myself enough space to bolt if I needed to. He was alone, though, and there were no strange cars lurking nearby. He wasn’t particularly buff, so I had maybe an eighty percent chance of kicking his ass.

We walked briskly out of town, toward the woods I biked through to get to the cabin. I wondered for a moment if he knew where I lived, but he didn’t go very far into the woods before stopping and turning toward me. I stopped as well, keeping a wary distance from him.

“Now tell me why I followed a stranger into the woods,” I demanded, crossing my arms. “What do you know about my family?”

The stranger took a step forward, but before he could speak, a beast launched between us and pinned the guy to a tree by his throat. I smirked, realizing Morax must have heard my call.

“Who the fuck is this?” he growled, his eyes glowing that citrine yellow as his daemon form shimmered in and out of focus.

I shrugged. “I don’t know yet. He says he has information about my family.”

Morax turned to me, his eyes narrowed as his gaze traced my body from head to toe. “So you followed a stranger, alone and without weapons, into the middle of the woods? Little lumen, I might have to strangle you when I’m done with him.”

He emphasized the words by squeezing the stranger’s throat. The guy’s feet kicked several inches above the ground as his hands clawed uselessly at the muscular arm holding him in place.

I grinned, and Morax raised an eyebrow at me. “I called you, didn’t I? You’re my best and preferred weapon of choice.”

Morax huffed, a low growl vibrating through my bones, and his eyes dilated. How was I so turned on already?

“Can you not kill him yet? I want to hear what he has to say.” I stepped closer to them and placed my hand on his extended arm.

Morax dropped the guy to the ground.

He coughed and choked, sucking down fresh oxygen.

“I’ve already read his thoughts. He knows very little. But he has something for you.” Morax kept his body partially in front of mine, shielding me from the stranger. “Give her the device.”

It was my turn to arch an eyebrow. The stranger stood slowly and pulled a small handheld video camera from his pocket. “In the event of his death, I was told to deliver this message.”

Morax grabbed the camera from the guy before I could reach for it and handed it to me instead. Overprotective, psycho daemon.

I popped out the small screen and turned it on. There was one video on the camera, and I pressed play with shaking fingers. A man appeared, and not one I knew.

Hello, Michaela. If you are watching this, death has come for me. My name is Ezekiel Parrish, and I am one of the four Obscuritas Kings.

My hands shook, but not from fear. This was one of the men who murdered Lailah and our mother.

I am not proud of my actions. And I know at this time my words mean very little to you.

But we have very little time left, so you must listen.

I met your mother many years ago. After my wife and child were murdered, your mother came to me.

Unlike the other Kings, I loved my wife and my children.

I was desperate to get them back and would have done anything to make that happen.

It was not meant to be, but I could change what would come next and still save my son.

Devon Parrish is an Obscuritas Prince, and he will need your help.

Fat fucking chance of that. The mention of my mother meeting with this asshole had my mind reeling. Every little bit of information I gained about my mother only made me angrier. She was this great seer, and she knew so much, but she still died. Still let Lailah die.

Your mother showed me what would come next.

The darkness that would take over our world and her own world.

If we carried on this path, no one would survive.

There was only a small window of opportunity to make things right.

You and your sisters are that opportunity.

Take the gift. I have kept it these many years for you and Seraphina.

The other Kings will come for you soon. Let them take you.

Morax growled so loud I jumped. Heat radiated from his body as he cursed at the camera.

You must do this and remain strong. Use the daemon to find your sister. Help her friend, as her mind will be lost. The rituals must happen. Kill the messenger. When you see my son, tell him I am sorry. Tell him I loved him.

The video ended, and I stared at the sad, dark eyes of the man in the camera. I believed him. His desperation was evident, and the unending sadness in his eyes was real.

“For you. And for your sister.” The stranger pulled out two small boxes.

Morax took them first and handed me the one with a golden M engraved on it. I opened the box and found a delicate necklace with a strange stone wrapped in gold. It looked similar to an opal.

Morax sucked in a breath, and I turned to him.

“That stone is called luxenite. It is, essentially, the essence of a lumen. When a lumen dies, they can choose to turn their soul, their essence, into a gift for another. It can be used only once. And each one is different. The power that comes from the stone varies based on the lumen who provided it. Most lumens do not do this.” His voice was in awe as he stared at the necklace.

I turned to him, curious. “Why not?”

Morax frowned. “When we do eventually die, it is not like a human death. We let go of our earthly form and ascend to the stars to watch over all those still living. When a lumen creates the luxenite, they forfeit their place among the stars. Daemons have something similar, and it is even rarer. It is called tenebrite.”

We looked down at the box engraved with an S. Morax opened it slowly and gasped once more. The stone was deepest blue with flecks of back, like a sapphire mixed with onyx.

“Is that tenebrite?” I asked, my voice near a whisper.

Morax nodded.

“Who were they? Can you tell?” I needed to know who would give us such gifts.

He shook his head. “I do not know. I will try to find out. These are rare gifts indeed.” He closed the box for my sister and handed it to me as I closed mine.

The wind whipped my hair as Morax turned and, without blinking, tore his claws into the stranger’s chest and ripped out his heart. The body dropped to the ground, and I stood, mouth open and in shock. Morax took the video camera from my hand and proceeded to crush it into dust with his sharp claws.

“What the hell just happened?” I shouted at him, coming out of my shocked silence. The air smelled like iron, so strong I could almost taste it.

“The Obscuritas King said it first, and he was right. Kill the messenger.” Morax turned to the body and whispered a few words under his breath.

The dead messenger suddenly caught fire and disintegrated in minutes.

“He had to die, little lumen.”