Page 22

VAEL

I crouch in the shadows of the ruined temple, muscles coiled tight as I scan the crumbling plaza below. The sky above Galmoleth has darkened to that peculiar crimson-black that makes tracking easier—for me, at least. The captain won't have my advantages in the dark.

If the bastard even shows up this time.

A cool wind sweeps through the broken columns, carrying the scent of decay and something else—something familiar that makes my nostrils flare. Someone's been here recently. Someone demonic.

I shift silently, adjusting the weight of the blades strapped across my back. Three weeks of chasing this particular shadow, and I'm running out of patience. The twins are growing every day I'm away. Trinity is...

Trinity is not mine to think about right now.

"You're getting sloppy, Captain," I murmur, examining the fresh claw marks gouged into ancient stone. Drez'kor always did have a temper. I trace one furrow with my fingertip, finding it still warm to the touch. "Very sloppy."

A sound—barely audible—pulls my attention toward the eastern passage. I melt deeper into shadow, my ash-gray skin a perfect camouflage against the darkness. The heavy thud of boots approaches, accompanied by ragged breathing. Not the captain. Someone injured.

I draw a blade silently, balancing its familiar weight in my palm.

A figure stumbles into the plaza—a lesser demon, clutching his side where black ichor seeps between his fingers. His eyes dart wildly, scanning the ruins before he collapses against a fallen column.

I'm on him before he can register movement, blade pressed to his throat.

"Where is he?" I keep my voice low, applying just enough pressure to break skin.

The demon's eyes widen with recognition. "Vaelrix? Fuck—I thought you were him coming back?—"

"Drez'kor. Where?"

His laugh turns into a pained cough. "Gone. Again. Bastard knew you were coming. Left me to bleed out as a distraction."

I press harder. "Not good enough. Talk."

"He's got...friends in high places now." Blood bubbles at the corner of his mouth. "Said to tell you...you're chasing ghosts. Whatever that means."

I growl, frustration bubbling through my veins like acid. The captain has evaded me for weeks, always one step ahead. No one slips my grasp this easily. No one.

"What's your connection?" I demand, searching his face for signs of deception.

"Just muscle. Hired help." His breathing shallows. "Said you'd be sniffing around because of some human...bitch."

My blade slices deeper before I can check the impulse. "Watch your tongue."

His eyes widen further. "Fuck—it's true then? The great Vaelrix, tamed by a human?" Another wet cough. "Captain said you'd gotten soft."

I lean closer, letting him see the fury in my eyes. "Does this feel soft to you?"

The demon swallows hard against my blade. "Look—he's crossed to Aerasak. I imagine he's on Ikoth. Has some business with a collector there. That's all I know. I swear it on the void."

I ease the pressure slightly. "A collector? What business?"

"Don't know details. Just heard him mention something about a trade. Something valuable." His eyes glaze slightly. "He won't stop talking about revenge, though. Says you took something that belongs to him."

The implication hits me like a physical blow, but I keep my expression neutral. "When does he meet the collector?"

"Three days. The obsidian falls." His head lolls slightly. "I need a healer, or I won't make it."

I stand, wiping my blade on my leathers. "You'll make it. And then you'll deliver a message. Tell your captain that if he values what remains of his miserable existence, he'll forget about the human woman. Tell him she belongs to me now."

The demon's eyes widen. "He won't like that."

I sheathe my blade with a sharp click. "I'm counting on it."

I leave him there, bleeding but alive—a messenger to carry my challenge. The eastern territories are at least a day's hard travel, which gives me time to return home and prepare. Something feels wrong about this whole pursuit, like I'm being led in circles.

Back at my carriage, I retrieve the tracking stones I've collected—each one vibrating with different intensities, supposedly leading to the captain's location. Three weeks, five different stones, and each pointing in contradictory directions. This isn't coincidence.

I slam my fist into the carriage wall, denting the reinforced metal.

"Damn it!"

No one has ever eluded me like this. No one has picked apart my tracking methods so effectively. It's like trying to catch smoke with bare hands.

I pull out a communication crystal, knowing I should tell Trinity I'll be delayed again. The eastern territories are dangerous—even for me.

But these thoughts of Trinity, of the twins... they're exactly the distraction the captain is counting on. The vulnerability he's looking to exploit.

I pocket the crystal unused. The captain wants me distracted, wants me torn between the hunt and home. That's not a game I'm willing to play.

I secure my weapons and prepare for the journey east, a growl building in my chest. I'm coming for you, Captain. And when I find you, you'll learn why they whisper my name in the dark corners of Aerasak.

I push my carriage faster than I should across the rugged terrain, every fiber of my being pulling toward home. Three days in the eastern territories yielded nothing but more frustration—the captain had vanished again, the "collector" nowhere to be found. Another trail gone cold.

But with each mile closer to home, thoughts of the hunt fade, replaced by images of Trinity and the twins. My chest tightens with an unfamiliar ache. The realization that I've been counting the days—hours even—since I last saw their faces unsettles me.

Demons don't pine. We don't yearn. We take what we want and discard what no longer serves us.

Yet here I am, urging the zarryn to a dangerous pace, desperate to arrive before the twins are put down for the night.

When my home finally appears on the horizon—black stone silhouetted against the crimson sky—I feel something suspiciously like relief wash over me. I school my features into neutrality as I approach. Trinity doesn't need to see how much her absence affected me. She doesn't need that burden.

The door opens before I reach it. Jackie stands there, her round human face lighting up with recognition.

"You're back earlier than expected," she says, stepping aside. "They're in the nursery."

I stride past her without answering, following the soft sounds echoing down the hallway. The scent of milk and the sweet, distinctive smell of the twins grows stronger. And beneath it all—Trinity's scent, like sunlight on warm skin.

I pause at the nursery door, watching silently.

Trinity stands with her back to me, humming softly as she rocks Kaelin.

My breath catches at the sight of her silhouetted against the window, the crimson light of Aerasak's sunset turning her brown waves to copper.

Liora sleeps peacefully in her bassinet, tiny fingers curled into fists.

For a moment, I allow myself to imagine this is my reality—not a temporary arrangement, but my life. My family.

Trinity turns, sensing my presence. Surprise flickers across her features before she composes herself.

"You're back," she says softly, careful not to disturb Kaelin, who's drifting to sleep in her arms.

I cross the room in three strides, peering down at Kaelin's peaceful face. "Miss anything interesting?" My voice comes out rougher than intended.

"Liora smiled yesterday. A real smile, not just gas." Trinity's own smile appears, tentative but genuine. "And this one—" she glances down at Kaelin "—has discovered her lungs. Properly discovered them."

I allow myself to touch Kaelin's cheek with one finger, marveling at the silken softness of her skin. "Show me," I murmur, holding my arms out.

Trinity hesitates for only a fraction of a second before transferring Kaelin to my embrace. Our hands brush in the exchange, and I resist the urge to prolong the contact.

"How was your... business?" Trinity asks, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She never asks directly about my hunts, maintaining the fiction that I'm merely attending to some vague professional matters.

"Unfinished," I reply, breathing in Kaelin's scent as I cradle her. "But not urgent."

Trinity nods, turning to adjust Liora's blanket unnecessarily. "Jackie made enough dinner for two. If you're hungry."

I watch her movements, cataloging the shifts in her posture, the careful way she avoids meeting my eyes for too long. She's grown more comfortable in my home—my territory—but maintains certain boundaries. Boundaries I know better than to push against.

"I'll take over," I say, nodding toward the twins. "You should eat."

"I'm not?—"

"You're still recovering," I cut her off, keeping my voice low. "And you've been alone with them all day. Take a break, Trinity."

She looks ready to argue, then her shoulders relax slightly. "Fine. But call if they need anything."

I nod, though we both know I won't. I've learned more about infant care in the past weeks than most demons learn in a lifetime. I know what my daughters need.

My daughters. The thought still sends a shock through my system.

Trinity lingers at the doorway. "Vael?"

I look up, fighting to keep my expression neutral.

"It's good that you're back." She says it quickly, as if the words might burn if held too long on her tongue, then disappears down the hallway.

I settle into the rocking chair with Kaelin, carefully adjusting my large frame to the human-sized furniture. With one hand, I reach out to rest my palm on Liora's rising chest, connecting myself to both my children at once.

"Your mother is stubborn," I whisper to them. "Almost as stubborn as me."

Kaelin stirs, her tiny face scrunching before relaxing again. I find myself memorizing every detail—the curve of her nose, the exact shade of her eyelashes, the way her fingers curl around mine when I offer my hand.

I don't know how many more moments like this I'll have. Don't know when Trinity will decide she's healed enough, strong enough to start the life of freedom I promised her. The thought cuts deeper than any blade.

Because I desperately hope she doesn't leave.