Page 24 of Demonic Division (The Sundering Duet #1)

24

Kaebl

I stalk the floors of the throne room, the stone crumbling beneath my powerful claws with each step. I can’t bring myself to look at Cyprien and Lir. As soon as I consider it, I can feel my hands wrapping around their throats, ripping their useless fucking hearts from their chests.

“Kaebl, you have to understand?—”

I whip my gaze toward Lir, and the fury that settles on him causes him to flinch. I understand perfectly. There is nothing you could say to make this better, Lir. I trusted you—of all of them, I believed you had the power to resist.

Lir lowers his gaze, his expression crumbling. “I thought I did, too…”

Cyprien steps in front of his blue-haired counterpart, his jaw clenching hard enough to fracture his molars. “Would you leave him alone? We all had a part to play in this!”

Oh yes. I would never forget about the one who brought her to this land in the first place. The one who started this whole fucking mess. I bring a hand to my forehead, closing my eyes as my anger threatens to consume me. Where is Roark ?

“In his room,” Lir answers sullenly. “He was… he’s not taking the separation very well. We had to restrain him.”

Good. At least you did one thing right. I rub a clawed hand down my face, a deep throbbing emanating from the fresh wounds on my wings. I had almost forgotten about them—the sight outside the castle had torn every other thought from my mind—but now that the adrenaline is leaving, I’m left with the bitter pain of my battles. He will calm soon enough.

“I’m not so sure,” Cyprien murmurs. “He didn’t get to… connect with her like Lir and I did after the bond first fell into place. I think it’s driving him crazy.”

An even greater incentive to find a way to break the bond and restore him to normal, I say, tipping my chin in the air.

Cyprien balks. “Why don’t you let him see her? Let the bond ease into place?—”

I’ll do no such thing, I interrupt. There are too many variables and outcomes. And I have no time for experiments.

I turn from them and step toward the window, my bones growing weary and patience running thin. A trail of dark red blood follows in my wake, catching the attention of Lir.

“You’re hurt.”

I stare out into the night, unmoving. That is wholly evident.

“Are you going out again tonight?”

My eyes find the silhouette of a Welwig in the distance, standing solitary among the barren landscape. So strong. So alone.

A deep sadness wells in my chest at the sight, though I could not say why. We’re running out of time, I whisper into his mind. Perhaps we’re already out of it .

“Don’t say that. We can still fight him, even apart. We can still win.”

I nod—the first movement I’ve made in a while—and it sends a twinge down the center of my spine. You should go and check on Roark. You too, Cyprien. Keep an eye on things while I’m away—and for the love of the gods, stay away from the human. At least for the night.

Lir and Cyprien remain silent, which I take for their agreement. And if they choose to disobey, I don’t have the energy or resources to do anything about it, anyhow. The worst has already happened—the bond is in place—but the castle still needs to be guarded, Roark has to be watched, and I have to take care of Slaine’s invading forces.

The door clicks, signaling Lir’s and Cyprien’s departure, and I let out a breath. My wings snap out, the muscles surrounding my shoulders shuddering and screaming in pain. I jump onto the ledge, relishing the feel of the wind against the tattered edges, cooling the tormented flesh.

I launch into the sky. But instead of heading to the north where a portion of Slaine’s forces have set up camp, I catch the crosswind and circle back around the castle.

Toward Dagny’s room.

I land silently on her windowsill, my claws digging into the ledge to gain purchase. I crouch low, watching the little human through the shadows of her room. She’s curled in the corner with the furs pulled up to her haunting eyes, an expression I couldn’t begin to place.

I jump from the ledge, landing silently on the stone floor as my wings snap in, dissolving in a puff of shimmering smoke. Dagny whips her head toward me, fear replacing the emotion living there just moments before. Her eyes are barely able to keep mine for a moment, and her thoughts are a swirling mess .

My chest aches, and I long to speak—to let her know my intentions. More than anything, I want to apologize for what I said to her the last time we were together. To fall on my knees and beg for her forgiveness. To crawl to her, to let her sweet words pour over me, silencing the beast within once and for all.

But I wouldn’t know where to start. And so, I don’t.

Instead, I stalk toward her, pulled by that incessant cord in my chest. Without thinking, I reach for her, and Dagny jerks back.

“Get the fuck away from me,” she snaps, baring her teeth. “Don’t you dare touch me.”

Dagny, I… I shake my head, my jaw tightening in anger. You have no right to speak to me that way. I could end you with a single thought?—

“Then fucking do it,” she goads, her own rage rising to meet mine. “You said it yourself—it would solve everything. So just do it. ”

I jerk back, my chest squeezing at the malice in her tone. I cannot.

“Because you don’t know what it would do to the other demons. I get it.” Her lips twist into a nasty sneer. “But don’t fucking come in here looking all guilty. Like you actually have remorse over what you said to me.”

Maybe I do have remorse, I reply, focused on keeping my voice even. Perhaps I came to apologize.

“Well, it’s a little late for that,” she whispers. She turns her head to the side, angrily blinking away the tears that well in her eyes. “I don’t even know why I care so much.”

It’s the bond. I feel it, too.

Her eyes find mine, and some of the anger washes away. “ I’m sorry.”

Her words have an unwanted effect on me, and I reel back as that cord yanks painfully. I should go.

“Yes. I think that’s for the best.”

I turn back for the window, my wings snapping out to the sides as I jump to the ledge. Dagny’s stare burns into my back, taking in the tattered remains and the shuddering flight muscles around my shoulder blades.

Everything in me longs to look back, to gaze into her enchanting eyes once more—but I know it’s better that I refrain. All the same, my heart aches as I launch into the sky.