Page 47 of As Above, So Below

Turning, I begin the return.

Too many thoughts and emotions swirl about in my head, in my chest. Vaelyn’s words have bred a plethora of doubts, concerns, hurdles. But it’s his question about my demonic urges that has me in a chokehold.

I hadn’t considered the impact ofmynature upon the living.

Because I’m a selfish creature fending for my wants alone.

I cannot afford to succumb to the urges.

Here, I’ve near mastered my ability to suppress them. Much to the disapproval of Netharis. But among the living… would they be amplified? Will I lie and cheat and sow death in my wake? Will I have to fight the compulsion of my demon blood?

I didn’t fight it when it came to lying to Vaelyn.

And lying was easier than it should have been.

Trusting Celesta would be foolish. She is a duplicitous creature. Just as the moon passes through phases, she ebbs and flows much the same. I refuse to escape one god only to fall into the hands of another.

Despite Ollora being Celesta’s birthplace, it’s where I am to go. I’m drawn to the city, even with its mostly fae population. Even with its fae royal family. It should be easy enough to hide among them.

Right?

It sits nestled in the wilderness of Erus with plenty of forests andclutches of towns close enough for me to blend into. I’m not afraid of having to work to earn my keep, as long as the work is ofmychoosing.

It goes without being said, Netharis will hunt me.

There’s no escaping that.

He will send mortals both loyal and contracted, to search for me. As long as he exists, I will never have the quiet peaceful life I want. But I will have a life. That alone is more than what I’ve been given here.

So if I have to, I will turn to Celesta.

I hold no qualms in pitting two gods against one another if needed.

Turning again, my feet continue to move at a steady pace.

A leather messenger bag rests upon the couch, filled with the items I hope to carry with me into the living realm. It’s not much, and none of it mine. Everything in this tower belongs to Netharis. But these few items… they mean nothing to him. He collects to collect, to own, to claim. Not because he finds anything interesting or useful.

He is the epitome of greed.

I need to be successful in this exodus.

Stealing from Netharis is enough to warrant a decade of torture in itself. Whatever lies within the obsidian box should be enough to fund what I need for a time while I adapt to life. It will be sold or used to barter a contract—whichever presents itself first.

Here in the hells, I have a limitless innate, a benefit of being in Netharis’ House. No other demons possess such a trait. Nor do I expect to have the same in the mortal world. I don’t know what my natural limitations are, let alone what they will be once I’ve been renderedalive.

Finding and contracting a mortal as a protector may be a necessity. Especially if Netharis sends demons. I doubt he will, as not to draw the ire of Gaia, but I cannot wholly disregard the possibility.

And knowing my father, he won’t send any demon.

He’ll send Kassil.

The floor rumbles under my feet, forcing me to stop and yanking me from my thoughts. Flinging my arms and wings wide, Istagger to steady myself.

It’s begun.

Knots begin to form in my stomach. Twisting, turning, tightening.

There’s no going back now.