Page 10 of Demonic Division (The Sundering Duet #1)

10

Kaebl

A piercing screech echoes in my mind, and I duck, narrowly missing the clawed hand that was aiming for my head. Teeth and limbs clash in a flurry of movement as the scout demon and I tussle midair, neither one of us willing to lose our life tonight.

Surrender, I snarl, wrapping my arm around his throat in a headlock and squeezing. Tell me what I need to know, and I’ll let you live.

Lies from a filthy serpent, he growls, slamming a fist into my stomach. The wind is knocked from my body, but I hold strong, increasing my grip until the skin on his face turns a faint shade of purple.

Surrender .

“ Never!” The demon's eyes flicker silver as he reaches up with one clawed hand, running the razor-sharp talon across his throat. A thin sliver of red lines his pale skin a moment before dark red liquid cascades down the front of his neck. His eyes lose focus as the life floods from his veins, and a demented smile pulls apart his lipless mouth.

“ You will never… win. Slaine will… kill you. Kill you… all. ”

With one last shuddering breath, the demon goes limp in my arms. A furious bellow echoes into the air as I let the useless body fall to the frozen ground, the rage pulsing beneath my skin threatening to burn me alive.

Nothing. It was all for fucking nothing.

I fold my wings around my body, nose-diving headfirst toward the ground. Just before I make impact, my wings snap out, suspending my body just above the ice. My feet rest lightly on the ground, the thick padding making it so I don’t feel the bite of the cold.

I gaze around the barren land, checking the skies for any more of Slaine’s forces—for another shot at extracting the information I so desperately need. When I find none, I slam my fist into the ground, a silent bellow ripping from my chest.

Another opportunity. Wasted.

Snarling, I push to a stand, my wings spreading from my shoulders, catching the ferocious winter wind. I push off the ground, launching into the skies as my wings beat the air, propelling me higher and higher into the void.

The atmosphere thins, and I pull the wings in, dropping through the air in a free fall. My eyes flutter closed as the wind slices through the pale skin of my demon form. The fissures in my skin pulse with a golden light the closer I get to the ground, but I force my muscles to stay frozen. The moments before death are the only times I’m able to feel something—the times I am the most clearheaded.

Yet when the fog clears, only one word pierces through.

Dagny.

I shake my head, snapping my wings out at the last moment before I make impact. I skid across the ice, my claws carving deep grooves into the ground as I try to slow my momentum. I hit a divot, causing my body to flip over itself and tumble through the air, and when I come back down, my shoulder takes the brunt of the force. A loud crack rings through the air as bone shatters, but no cry of pain accompanies it.

I roll to my back, taking shallow breaths through my nose as I blink up at the sky.

Well, that was fucking dumb.

With a groan, I reach a hand over to the afflicted shoulder, placing my palm flat against the skin and sending a pulse of magic to the area. In moments, the bone is back to normal, and I lay my head back against the frozen ground, struggling to breathe.

It’s getting harder to harness the magic of The Far Place with each passing day. It takes more of a toll on my body—and I fear for what it means for my mortality.

Against my will, my thoughts travel to the little human locked in the dungeons of my castle. I think about what Cyprien said—how she could possibly be the solution to my problem. I ponder it for a moment before casting the idea to the side.

She’s just a human. Nothing more. This is all a horrible coincidence. She was never meant to bond to Cyprien. She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

I sit upright, placing my head into my hands. But I want her. Why does my soul yearn for her when it shouldn’t? Why does the thing beneath my skin pull me to her? Why does it rid my thoughts of anything but her?

Every part of me wants to keep her—safe, angry, happy, frightened—whatever it is, just as long as it’s all to myself. I know it’s just the effects of my bond with Cyprien, that this is a fraction of what he feels for her. The knowledge doesn’t make it any better. It doesn’t cease that endless tugging in my chest .

With a growl, I push to a stand, forcing thoughts of the little human to the back of my mind. I gaze toward the heaped body of the scout demon, my fist clenching at my side as I’m reminded of why I came out here.

If he was so sure I was going to die, that means Slaine’s forces are only days away from attacking. And if that’s true, I don’t have any more time.

I have to break that fucking bond.

But more importantly, I have to get Dagny away from M before he can ruin everything I’ve worked for.