Page 31 of Demonic Division (The Sundering Duet #1)

31

Dagny

The smell of blood is the first thing I notice when I step into Roark’s room. It infects the air, flowing into my nose and coating my throat with the vile metallic tang that causes my heart to pound, mirroring the strange rhythmic thumping echoing along the walls.

The next is the utter devastation. All along the walls, the stone is lined with craters—fist-sized holes that fissure and turn the surrounding material to rubble. Chunks of gravel line the floor like freshly fallen snow, hailing from the ceiling with each steady thump.

An anguished whine echoes off the walls and into my heart, drawing my gaze to the creature cowered in the corner of the room. His eyes shine like twin violet beacons through the dark, searching for nothing and everything all at once. Thick shadows swirl around its outline, hiding the beast partially from view. The only things I can make out are the deep, oozing gouges along his forearms and chest. I’m about to ask what the wounds are from when Roark reaches his great clawed hand up to his neck, fingernails piercing deep and raking downward, mutilating the skin .

“Gods… what is he doing?” I ask, my voice trembling with horror. “Can’t you stop him?”

Lir shakes his head, his brow set in a deep frown. “We’ve tried… he nearly killed Cyprien when he attempted to chain his hands.”

At Lir’s words, my eyes trail up to the large metal collar strapped around Roark’s neck, then to the short iron chain bolting him to the wall. It seems to be the only thing keeping the demon here from wreaking more havoc.

Roark whines deep in his throat, deep purple eyes latching onto my frame. Thick, blue-black blood drips from his fingers as he reaches toward me, his claws extending as a distorted bellowing noise vibrates into the air. Roark’s lips peel back in a snarl as he lunges forward, stopped only by the chain holding him to the wall. He rails against his restraints, causing the collar to dig into his flesh and more blood to flow down his neck and chest, coating his skin in that awful black liquid.

Lir shifts in front of me protectively, letting out his own snarl to try to scare Roark into submission. Roark doubles down, reaching up to his neck and clawing mindlessly at the restraint, having no care for the terrible wounds he’s inflicting in the process.

“He’s going to kill himself!” I snap, pushing Lir to the side and rushing toward the purple-eyed demon. Before I get two steps, Cyprien snaps an arm out, attempting to haul me back.

“He’ll kill you if you go to him,” Cyprien says, his claws digging into my skin with the strength he holds me. “I won’t allow it.”

I shake my head, attempting to wrench my arm from his grip. “I have to do something !” The thing in my chest is rioting, demanding I go to Roark and ease the pain of the bond. Putting me out of my mind, just as I’m sure he is. “Please, let me try.”

Lir’s lips press into a scowl, but he nods at Cyprien, giving him permission to let me go. As soon as I’m free, I rush over to Roark, stopping just out of reach in case he does decide to harm me. Immediately, Roark drops his hands from his neck, splattering blood all across the floor as he reaches out for me. His claws scrape the air in front of me as a desperate whine flows from his parted mouth, the sound seeping to the marrow of my bones and filling me with a deep sadness.

“Roark…” I whisper. “It’s okay now. I’m here…”

Roark blinks, and some of the haze vanishes. “ Dag… ny… My… Dagny…” His nostrils flare as he takes a deep breath, and his eyes close in bliss as my scent fills his lungs. “ Finally…”

The rapid rise and fall of his chest ceases as I step into his space. The air thickens, humming with an energy only we can sense. A warm fluttering in my stomach travels to the tips of my fingers and toes, numbing everything in its path until the only thing I’m aware of is that violent tugging sensation in my chest.

Roark’s palm finds my cheek, and though the skin is calloused and rough, his touch is exceedingly gentle, brushing over my skin like a warm breeze. I lean into it, closing my eyes as the bond mark on my thigh pulses to life, casting a faint purple light along the shadowed walls.

“Little one…” he murmurs, his voice returning to its usual timbre. “You came back to me…”

I open my eyes, finding his beautiful purple ones already burning into mine. His palm slides to the top of my head and down the back, brushing away the long strands of dark brown hair to expose the gentle curve of my neck. Roark leans in, pressing his lips gently against my pulse point, a deep growl rumbling in his chest. A sigh of relief passes my lips as the bond eases into place, filling the air with a puff of vapor that swirls around my head, mingling with Roark’s heavy panting.

“I want to taste, ” he groans, tongue dragging up my neck and causing me to cry out. His arms around my back, pulling me flush against his chest and covering me in his blood. At the sensation of warm liquid seeping into my bodysuit, I squeal and attempt to wriggle from his hold, which only ends in more of the dark black blood coating my skin and clothes.

“ Be still , little one, ” he orders, pulling me impossibly deeper into his chest. “ Let me hold you.”

I’m pretty sure you want to do more than hold, I think, jerking my eyes down to the growing cock pressing into my lower stomach. Roark follows my gaze, and a pleased hum vibrates in his throat as he jerks his hips against me.

“I want to do everything, ” he growls, nipping gently at my neck. “I’m going to make you mine .”

“I don’t think you’re in a state to do anything of the sort,” Cyprien pipes up, stepping closer and placing his hand on Roark’s shoulder. As soon as his palm makes contact, Roark snaps his head to the side, gnashing his pointed fangs within a millimeter of Cyprien’s fingertips.

Cyprien rips his arm away, lips tilting in a taunting grin. “There’s no need to be so testy. We can share.”

In response, Roark's chest rumbles with a possessive growl, and he wraps his arms tighter around me. “Mine.”

“Ehhh.” Cyprien’s clawed hand tilts side to side, showcasing the shaky logic in Roark’s statement. “That pretty little brand on her tummy disagrees with you. She was mine before she was any of yours,” he adds, puffing his chest out haughtily.

Roark snarls, his glowing purple eyes narrowing with rage. Sensing the impending fight, Lir steps between them, hiding Cyprien’s irritating smirk from Roark’s view. “Stop fucking poking him, Cyprien. And you—” He turns his serious gaze onto Roark. “Cyprien had a point. You’re all kinds of fucked up. We need to heal your wounds before… well, before we think about doing anything else!” Lir looks off to the side awkwardly, and I have to suppress my giggle at the sight of Lir’s cheeks tinted with pink.

Roark releases a low whine but doesn’t argue. Instead, he chooses to bury his head into my neck. “ Mine… ”

I sigh, running my hands down his arms, smiling as his powerful muscles shudder beneath my touch. “Yes, Roark. Yours. But you have to let me go. You have to let Lir heal you.”

He just shakes his head, and I look toward Lir helplessly. “Can you…?”

Lir frowns, shaking his head imperceptibly. “I’m afraid to pull him off you…”

I turn my attention back to Roark, continuing to trail my palms lightly over his torn flesh. Unexpected heat pools at my fingertips, pushing into Roark’s skin and pulling a relieved groan from his parted lips. I’m not sure exactly what I’m doing, but something urges me to continue, to finish this strange ritual.

A faint light pulses to life beneath my hands, spreading from the area and coloring the skin a beautiful silver hue. Wherever the light touches, the wounds close, the edges drawn together by an invisible thread until nothing but pale pink scars are left behind.

The golden glow vanishes as the last of the heat seeps from my veins, and I pull away from Roark as Lir’s gaze burns a hole into my profile.

“How… did you do that?” he asks, his voice an awe-filled whisper.

My eyes flick toward him, finding his mouth parted slightly in shock. “I don’t know,” I answer truthfully. “Sometimes I can just… do things.” I’m about to explain what Kaebl told me in the ice tunnels—how I might be half-demon—but before I get the chance, I’m overcome by a violent wave of vertigo.

My head swims, lining my vision with black spots as my ears fill with a loud whooshing noise. My bones turn to Jell-O, causing my feet to fall out from under me. If it were not for Roark’s grip, I would have crashed to the hard ground.

I lie limp in his arms for several minutes, trying to catch my breath. It feels like I’ve been underwater for eons—like someone sucked all the oxygen from the room, and I can’t seem to get enough of it.

“Shit,” Lir murmurs, hurrying over and helping Roark lower me to the ground. He supports my head as Cyprien crouches next to him, placing his clawed palm onto my chest as a worried frown pulls at his mouth.

“What’s wrong with her?” Cyprien demands, turning desperate eyes onto Lir. “Fix her!”

Lir shakes his head, waving a hand in front of my half-lidded eyes. “I don’t… there’s nothing to fix…”

Roark whimpers helplessly, pushing his face deep into the side of my neck. “ It’s my fault. She’s like this because she tried to help me.”

With what little strength I have left, I raise a hand, placing it onto Roark’s face to comfort him. Violet eyes rise to meet mine, and my chest squeezes to find them brimming with tears.

“I’m… okay…” I whisper, taking deep breaths between each word. “Just… tired…”

Roark whines, his chest vibrating with the sounds of his agony. “Lir, do something!”

Lir sighs, placing his palm on my forehead. My skin heats as healing magic pulses beneath my skin, but there are no real effects other than that pleasant warmth. Realizing it’s having no effect, Lir rips his hand away with a whimper, then stands and begins pacing the room.

As their panic mounts, I raise my head, blinking weakly past the haze coating my vision. “Guys… I promise… I’m okay…”

No one seems to hear me—too busy caught up in discussions of possible remedies—but then, a deep gurgling breaks the air, and all three demons fall silent.

“What the fuck was that?” Lir demands, his gaze falling to the source of the noise. “Did your stomach just speak?”

I blink, and some of my vision clears, allowing me to take in the confused expression twisting Lir’s handsome face. If I had any more strength, I would laugh, but all I can muster is a small smile. “Yeah… I forgot. I haven’t… haven’t eaten in a while…”

Lir turns his accusatory gaze onto Cyprien, whose own expression has crumpled into one of abject horror. “ What is she talking about? ”

“I… don’t know. I gave her human food when we first got here. Maybe she has to eat more often than us?”

“You didn’t ask her?” he snarls, his features flickering with his transformation. “I swear to the gods, if your stupidity has hurt her…”

Cyprien whines, hanging his head low. “I’m sorry, bunny,” he whispers, his eyes shining with desperation. “I’m so sorry. ”

“Don’t be sorry—go and get her some sustenance!” Lir snaps, his chin shuddering with the strength to keep the transformation at bay. “ Now, Cyprien.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice. In a flash, Cyprien is up and out the window, his powerful yellow wings soaring through the sky like a missile. I watch his outline retreat over the horizon, my chest twinging painfully at the increased distance. “Where is he going?”

“To the human realm,” Lir murmurs, placing his hand on my forehead. “He’ll be back shortly.” Lir raises his head, serious eyes connecting with Roark’s. “Are you calm now?”

Roark nods, then buries his face back into my neck. “Calm enough.”

Lir sighs. “I guess I can’t ask for any more.” He rises to a stand, then places his hands onto the thick collar surrounding Roark’s neck, a gentle blue light flaring to life as he sends a pulse of magic into the restraint. All at once, the cuffs on his neck, ankles, and wrists pop off, clattering to the stone floor in a cacophony of clangs and crashes.

As soon as he’s freed, Roark releases a satisfied groan, stretching his neck side to side to relieve some of the tension in his muscles. As soon as he’s done, he follows Lir out of the ruined bedroom, hastening down the long hallway toward Cyprien’s room. I’m about to ask why we’re not going to Lir’s when we step past the threshold, and all my thoughts are dashed by the sight in front of me.

Unlike all of the other rooms in the castle, Cyprien’s lacks the bleak minimalism and eerie coldness that makes the other so unwelcoming. Floor to ceiling, the dark stone has been covered with antethorpe furs, sewn lazily together with jagged red string that spreads across the room like bleeding fissures. A rounded burrow-like structure in the corner of the room is made from hundreds of glimmering silver branches and large enough to house at least six demons of Cyprien’s size. Just like the walls of the room, the inside of the hut has been stuffed with fluffy white antethorpe furs, giving it a cozy feel and making it the perfect place to lie down for a nap.

“He likes to burrow,” Lir grumbles, answering my question before it forms. “Though I find it ridiculous, you will be comfortable here, so this is where we will wait for Cyprien.”

Roark shifts his grip on me as he follows Lir toward the strange burrow, ducking his head low to crawl through the small circular opening into the dwelling beyond. The air is warmer inside, zested with a scent similar to the pine trees back home but less earthy. Pleasant.

Roark sits at the back of the space next to Lir, spreading his long legs to the side before placing me on the furs between his legs. Lir turns to the side and leans back, resting his shoulders on Roark’s leg so he can lay his head in the center of my lap. Sapphire eyes blink lazily as a rare smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“You seem to be feeling better,” he murmurs, reaching up to caress my cheek with his calloused hand. “Is the warmth helping?”

“Mm-hmm.” My eyes flutter closed as I lean into his touch, a pleasant heat enveloping each area his gentle fingers brush. I’m about to drift when the sound of flapping wings breaks the air, startling the three of us from our trance. I look through the opening, my chest warming at the sight of Cyprien’s grinning face peeking through.

“I got the goods,” he says, holding up a new box of crackers and peanut butter, his smile threatening to split his face in two.

Lir’s frown settles back into place as he turns toward the yellow-eyed demon. “Water? ”

Cyprien rolls his eyes, placing a large bucket of ice into the hollow before climbing through the opening. “I swear, it’s like you think I’m dumb or something.”

Lir sighs tiredly, raising his head from my lap as he reaches out to take the bucket of ice. Cyprien crouches down, spreading Roark’s legs as far as they will go before settling into the space in front of me, much to the larger demon's irritation. Cyprien rips into the box of crackers, shoving an entire sleeve into my chest before ordering, “Eat. All of them.”

My stomach rumbles as I tear open the packaging, not needing to be told twice. I scarf down five crackers before Cyprien offers me the peanut butter, which I slather onto the next five. The more I eat, the better I feel, until eventually, the room returns to focus.

I reach for the ice bucket, needing something to quench my thirst, but just before my fingers make contact, Lir yanks it out of reach with a devious glint in his eyes.

“Lir…”

“I remember how much fun Cyprien had when you first arrived in the dungeon,” he murmurs, sliding his hand into the bucket and pulling out a chunk of ice. Water drips from his heated fingers as he pushes his hand toward my mouth, teasing at my swollen lips.

“ Open .”

Having no reason or desire to deny him, I part my lips, and my eyes roll back as the cool liquid coats my tongue. I suck on Lir’s fingers, drawing more and more of him to the back of my throat as a desperate groan explodes from his chest.

“ Fuck, ” he chokes. A string of saliva trails from the tip of his claw as he pulls it from my mouth, and his eyes flare with a ravenous desire. My tongue trails over my bottom lip before I take it between my teeth, my core heating just from the look on his face. I’ve never seen a man look at something the way Lir is now—full of passion and tenderness and a raw, animalistic desire. So many conflicting emotions shouldn’t exist at once, yet when I look again, I know I’m not mistaken.

“Do you want more water?” he asks, his voice a choked rasp. “Or do you want something else, pet ?”

My mouth pops, and I just shake my head when he reaches for the bucket. He freezes halfway, and a devious smile tips his lips. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want you ,” I whisper, my voice a desperate plea. “I want all of you.”

Lir’s low chuckle breaks the air, rolling over my skin like cooled silk. His eyes find Cyprien’s, then Roark’s, an agreement flashing between them. And when he looks back at me, my throat tightens at the dark promise swimming in his gaze.

“Sweet little thing. You don’t realize how dangerous those words are. ”