Page 51 of A Summoned Husband

Everything swayed around me as my heavy lids tried to blink everything clear.

What was going on?

Who was I supposed to call?

Aimlessness had a grip on me as I wandered from my bedroom. The hall looked entirely too long. Like someone grabbed the end table under the window and pulled it out into the woods. Were there always this many doors up here? Should I count them?

One, two, three… three. What came after three?

The frigid feel of the walls brushed against my fingertips as I tried to steady myself.

Call for him, Eden. Something in my mind told me he would save me.

“Who?” my words slurred. Was I drunk again? I had the bottle of wine in my hand… I remember I spent an hour in the shower scrubbing the scent of wine from my skin. I was annoyed. Why was I so annoyed?

My thoughts were grains of sand that kept slipping through my fingers no matter how tightly I tried to hold on to them. Why? What was going on?

‘Eden…’

My name was a song, but it was treacherous. The last song a sailor hears before a siren lures them to their doom.

The sound of wings echoed in my ear. A fluttering that made my heart pound as my eyes unfocused and then focused again. Narrowed.

“A moth…” I whispered as I saw it, eyes crossed as it flew toward my face and then toward the end of the very long hall.

A dark figure appeared. I leaned into the wall beside me, each blink requiring so much effort as I rested my face against the wall and struggled to make it out. It was wisps of darkness. Black smoke. It moved and swirled and blew.

It was weird.

I wanted to run but my feet were glued to the floor as the figure floated effortlessly down the hall that had been too long. I wanted to be afraid but my chest was already too full of frigid air that froze everything as it was. It made my heart beat too slow, each breath a struggle.

The sound of a million fluttering wings made my skin crawl.

‘Eden,’ the voice sang.

One moment, the figure was halfway down the hall and the next it was right before me. A painful grip wrapped around my face, pulling me close and lifting me from the floor. My feet swung beneath me as sharp nails pierced my flesh. It breathed frosted breath into my face. I felt the flakes coat my skin as my teeth chattered.

‘You’re a pretty little thing, aren’t you? Mortal beauty may pale in comparison to demons, but you’ll do. Your flesh will house her well.’

The smoke opened up to reveal a face.

The woman who stared at me was chilling. Her flesh was the same warm brown as mine, brushed over with copper. Tattooed script went down her face from her hairline to her jaw over her left eye. It was symbols I had never seen before, ones I knew I would never make sense of. Her face was too gaunt. Hollowed out under her eyes and her cheeks as her orange eyes glowed in the dark. She was as captivating as she was terrifying. Something I couldn’t look away from even when it imprinted in my mind as my deepest fear.

All I could do was stare as she tore the neckline of my sweater and pressed her taloned finger to the key in my chest. I felt it slice through the flesh, but no pain came. I was still frozen. Still in my body, but also outside the window. Watching.

All the pain I felt so removed from suddenly hit me like a punch to the chest. A gasp inflated me as everything rushed in. The cold was so intense it burned, the pain like electricity that coursed through every inch of me.

‘Go on, Eden. Scream for me.’

I screamed.

19

ASMODEUS

Even the wicked needed rest.

According to these mortals, being a demon made me as wicked as they came. If only they knew the truth. If only they knew that demons could be righteous and an angel could be wicked. If only they knew there was evil in the hearts of most who slumbered and waited.