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I remain calm, letting her come again. This time she tries a feint, pivoting at the last second.

She aims for my ribs, but I catch her wrist with my clawed hand.

Her eyes widen, and I sense that flicker of fear—brief, raw.

I could crush her bones. The knowledge lances through me, fueling the chaos flame swirling up my arm.

I don’t crush, though. Instead, I shove her away, forcing her to stumble back. She gasps, regaining her footing. Her expression hardens, defiance radiating. “You said you’d let me try. Let me,” she snaps.

A low chuckle escapes my throat. “I am letting you. Go on, mortal.”

We circle each other. She feints high, then crouches low, slashing for my thigh. I step back, wings shifting for balance, the blow missing by an inch. “You’re faster than I expected,” I acknowledge, voice rumbling. “But your technique is lacking.”

Her glare intensifies. “My technique is survival.” She darts in again, ignoring my mockery. I parry with a sweep of my arm, chaos flame licking the air. The heat singes the coat’s hem, and she recoils, cursing.

In a burst of speed, I move behind her, hooking an arm around her waist. Her back slams into my chest. The dagger dangles uselessly at her side. She gasps, wriggling to break free. My wings close around us both, forming a partial cage of leathery membrane.

Heart pounding, she cranes her neck, silver eyes blazing. “Let me—let me go.”

I tighten my grip, not enough to injure but enough to convey that I could snap her spine. Heat radiates from the press of our bodies, her labored breath mingling with the faint brimstone scent clinging to me. My horns cast long shadows across the basalt.

I dip my head, my mouth near her ear. “Do you feel it?” I murmur, voice low. “How futile it is to fight me here?”

Her pulse thrums against my forearm. She tries to elbow me, but I twist, anticipating the move. Despite her frustration, I sense no surrender—only fury at her own helplessness.

Something sparks inside me, a charge that hums where our bodies meet.

My heart stutters, and the contract’s magic churns in my chest. That unwelcome ache returns, as though the oath is unraveling, or perhaps resonating with her.

I let out a shaky breath, momentarily disoriented by the swirl of conflicting energies.

She goes still, sensing my shift. “You’re trembling,” she whispers, surprise leaking into her tone.

“Am I?” I retort, though I feel the faint tremor in my arms. My wings twitch. The fortress wards hum, responding to my confusion. I don’t know if it’s her presence or my own power turning against me. I grit my teeth, forcing the swirl of chaos flame to subside.

She twists in my hold, meeting my gaze from over her shoulder.

Our faces are inches apart—close enough that I register each fleck of silver in her irises, the faint cut on her lower lip.

My breath hitches, a primal awareness pounding through my veins.

The mortal is pinned, her defiance palpable, and yet I can’t ignore that spark of dangerous attraction.

For a dizzying heartbeat, the fortress’s oppressive hush closes in around us.

We stand at an impasse, chest to back, my horns angled just over her temple.

Her ragged breathing fans across my jaw.

It feels like we teeter on the brink of something that has nothing to do with violence.

The desire to lean in, to close the inch between our mouths, flares hot and sudden. My claws tighten on her waist.

She senses it too, I realize. Her eyes widen, tension coiling in her frame.

She shivers, not from fear but from something else.

The air crackles, reminiscent of the illusions chamber when I tested her mind.

Except this is more real—raw and electric, a near-kiss poised between us.

My wings flex involuntarily, trying to cage her more.

The contract surges, sending a jolt of pain through my chest. I gasp, hissing under my breath. My hold slackens as I press a clawed hand over my heart. The fortress wards flicker, responding to my turmoil. She slips away, staggering free, rotating to face me with confusion etched on her features.

“What—? Malphas, what’s happening?” she asks, voice tight with concern.

I double over briefly, fighting the waves of pressure. Damn it. The oath’s binding punishes me for daring to step out of line. Or maybe her presence triggers a reaction I haven’t prepared for. Either way, it’s agony—like razors digging into my soul.

She hesitates, then steps forward, expression torn between wariness and alarm. “Are you all right?”

I bare my teeth, letting out a snarl that echoes through the courtyard. The lesser demons perched on the balconies hiss in response, flapping away in panic. My tail lashes the ground, cracks splintering the basalt.

Abruptly, the pain recedes, leaving a dull throb in its wake. I force myself upright, panting. The swirling illusions overhead subside. Valentina stands a few paces away, dagger raised but uncertain. Her silver eyes flick from my horns to my chest, worry overshadowed by frustration.

I drag in a shaky breath, pressing a hand to the basalt column for support. “It’s the contract,” I rasp. “Something about… you.”

She frowns. “Me?”

A bitter laugh escapes me. “Your blood… it’s interfering.” I straighten, forcing my wings to settle. “Every time I try to assert my will too strongly—like now—it triggers a backlash, as if the oath can’t fully contain me in your presence.”

She rubs her brow, obviously perplexed. “That’s good, isn’t it? It means you can break free?”

I exhale slowly, regaining composure. “Potentially, yes. But it also means I’m vulnerable to the contract’s sporadic punishments if I push too far without an actual method to sever it.”

She lowers the dagger, face etched with conflicting emotions. “So… you tried to prove my hopelessness, and instead you got a reminder of your own chains.”

I glare at her, though the edge is dulled by my lingering discomfort. “I wouldn’t phrase it so eloquently, but yes. Congratulations, mortal. Your presence is a double-edged sword.”

She grimaces, glancing at the silent watchers above. “If it helps, I’m not exactly thrilled to be the cause of your pain. We both want the same thing—your freedom from that contract.”

A jolt of surprise runs through me. “You want that?”

She shrugs, eyes shifting away. “It’s not just about you, is it? If I help break your chains, you might help me survive. Or maybe I’m a decent person who doesn’t enjoy seeing someone tortured by an oath. Take your pick.”

I study her, uncertain how to respond. Mortals rarely show compassion for demons, especially one who nearly consumed them on an altar. Yet here she is, forging an alliance with me for reasons I can’t fully parse.

My chest clenches with a rush of conflicting warmth. Stop , I chide myself. I step back, ignoring the faint tremor in my limbs. “We have an archivist to find. Wallowing in mutual pity won’t help.”

She nods, expression guarded. “Agreed. Then what’s the plan?”

I cast a wary glance upward, where two Trolvors skulk along a high ledge, observing.

I sign for her to follow me into a side passage where the wards dampen echoes of conversation.

Once inside, I close the thick iron door, the clang reverberating in the gloom.

The corridor is narrow, lit by a single sconce of ghostly blue flame.

Turning to face her, I fold my arms. “We’ll travel at dusk. The fortress wards hide us from scrying, but once we leave, King Grymlock’s forces could detect me. I need to mask my presence.”

Her brow creases. “How? You’re… not exactly small.”

A grudging smile graces my lips. “Chaos illusions can cloak my appearance, as I did in the city. But that doesn’t help with the contract if they attempt a direct summon. If the pain hits me mid-journey, it might incapacitate me.”

She taps the hilt of her dagger in a nervous gesture. “Then we’re stuck?”

I shake my head. “I have a partial solution—an amulet that blunts the contract’s hold. It was crafted by Soz’garoth sorcerers once under my command. The artifact was never finished, but it might buy me time. I need to retrieve it from the depths of the fortress. It’s not exactly stable.”

She pales slightly. “Unstable how?”

I shrug, wings rustling. “It might kill a lesser being who attempts to use it. For me, it might just cause side effects. For you… well, let’s not find out.”

She chews her lip but nods. “So we get the amulet, sneak into the city, find this archivist, and hope we don’t run into half the elven guard?”

“Precisely,” I confirm. “Before that, you’ll need more training—real fights, not illusions or a one-sided tussle with me. The city is no kinder than my fortress. If we’re cornered, you have to defend yourself without expecting me to bail you out every time.”

Her eyes flick with determination. “I’m ready.”

I find myself inclined to test her right here, to see if she can stand against lesser demons in a controlled environment.

But the memory of the contract’s flare warns me not to push too hard again.

Another moment of near-physical closeness, and who knows what might happen.

The tension between us gnaws at my composure.

She steps closer, narrowing the distance. “We can start now, can’t we? Unless you plan to keep me caged until dusk.”

I hold her gaze. My tail flicks behind me, scraping the stone.

The corridor’s tight enclosure heightens the awareness that we’re alone.

Again, I sense that magnetic pull, a dangerous spark crackling in the air.

I keep my voice steady. “Trust me, you’re not caged.

But if you want to prove your readiness, we’ll proceed carefully. ”

She lifts her chin. “Careful is overrated.”

A snort of dark amusement escapes me. “Is that mortal bravado or foolishness?”

“Maybe both,” she says softly, the corner of her mouth quirking.