Page 61 of The Fractured Veil

"And why is that a problem, Damon?" I asked, my temper rising. If looks could kill, he would be ash beneath my feet. "Do you seriously think I'm a threat after all of the shit that's happened?"

Damon's mask returned—his assessing, judging mask, the one that made me feel worthless despite everything I've been through. It was infuriating how his view of me affected me, whether I wanted to admit it or not. He didn't trust me, and that distrust—sharp and cold—pricked at my skin like a thousand tiny needles.

He stormed past me, the smoky, bergamot scent of him clinging to the air like a phantom touch. He didn't so much as brush against me, but I could feel his energy, a silent warning, a dark promise that vibrated between us. With a final, dismissive glance over his shoulder—a look that conveyed more disdain than words ever could—he exited the throne room, the heavy doors booming shut behind him, leaving me stewing in the silence.

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. He really knew how to get under my skin. I was tired of being treated like a threat, a liability. I was more than capable of handling myself. Damon would just have to deal with whatever insecurities he had. It was not my job to coddle him, to soothe his bruised ego. He was a shadow demon, for crying out loud—not a wounded fawn.

"So dramatic," I mumbled—the words escaping before I could stop them, completely forgetting Nox and Zarek were still here.

"Very dramatic, but that's demons for you," Zarek said, a playful smile gracing his lips. He placed a comforting hand on my shoulder, his touch sending a jolt of tingles through me. "I think we're all just tired. Let's go get some rest. We can strategize—and argue with Damon—in the morning."

* * *

The next day,after spending the night together in the same room—an experience that was undeniably awkward, punctuated by Zarek's persistent attempts to convince me to share his bed, his playful nudges and whispered promises of warmth eventually gave way to a pout when I refused. Damon, clearly frustrated by the whole charade, finally snapped, "Just sleep with me, you idiot," before dragging Zarek into his own bed, leaving me blessedly alone. Nox, ever stoic, simply settled into a nearby armchair.

The four of us stepped out into the streets of Damon's homeland. To my surprise, the oppressive darkness I'd anticipated was replaced by something entirely different. The place was alive, vibrant, pulsing with an energy I hadn't felt before. Sunlight, a warm, honeyed gold, filtered through the twisting branches of towering, ancient trees. People moved with purpose and ease, chatting and laughing, their voices weaving a comforting harmony that filled the air. It was almost impossible to believe this was the same place we had entered.

Stalls lined the main streets, overflowing with exotic fruits, gleaming trinkets, and hand woven tapestries. Children darted through the crowds, their carefree laughter echoing against the dark, polished stone facades of the buildings. Even the colors seemed more vivid here. The air hummed with a subtle magic—a gentle caress against my skin.

Damon walked beside me, his expression softer than I'd ever seen it. He moved with a relaxed familiarity, greeting a few passersby with curt nods and a quiet word or two. I could feel his pride in his homeland—a silent, steady thrum emanating from him. Zarek had his usual casual stride, his amber eyes sparkling with mischief as he noticed my open awe. "Not what you were expecting, was it?" he murmured, leaning in just close enough for only me to hear, his warm breath tickling my ear.

"No, not at all," I admitted, my gaze sweeping over a group of performers setting up in a nearby square. It was like the entire kingdom had transformed overnight. I caught sight of Nox a few steps ahead, his eyes scanning the crowds—always on guard. Even amidst the laughter and music, his posture remained tense, his senses attuned to any potential threat. Despite the apparent peacefulness, there was an undercurrent here—a reminder of the power that lay just beneath the surface.

"Don't let the beauty fool you," Damon said, "This place has its dangers. It's not always this... serene." He looked at me then, his blue eyes intense, as if trying to convey something deeper.

I nodded, feeling a mix of emotions swirling within me as we continued walking towards an open park. It was a beautiful space, with lush grass, clusters of wildflowers, and a fountain at its center. There were families scattered across the park—some having picnics, sharing laughter and stories, others watching as children played tag. The air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming jasmine and the gentle melody of a nearby street musician.

For a moment, I allowed myself to let my guard down, the vibrant energy of the park washing over me like a balm—it was a perfect illusion of serenity. I almost wanted to believe that this was all there was to Damon's world—that the shadows and danger were merely figments of my imagination.

"So, what now?" I asked, turning to the three men beside me.

Zarek gave me a grin, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Well, that depends, Firefly. We could show you more of the city, introduce you to some of the… interesting characters that reside here, or maybe take a detour somewhere more... exciting," he purred, his voice laced with a playful suggestiveness.

Nox, who had been quiet until now, shot Zarek a warning look. "We need to be careful, Z. We're not here for sightseeing," he said, his emerald eyes scanning the perimeter of the park. "Remember why we're here. We have a job to do."

Damon nodded in agreement, his gaze drifting over the park, assessing every shadow and every movement. "Nox is right. We can't afford to let our guard down, not even for a second. But..." His expression softened for a moment, his blue eyes meeting mine with a hint of understanding. "There's no harm in taking a moment to breathe."

I smiled, appreciating the sentiment. "A moment, then," I said, letting my gaze wander over the serene scene, trying to burn the image into my memory. "Just one moment to pretend everything's normal—that I'm not caught in some bizarre, otherworldly adventure."

Zarek chuckled, his grin widening. "Normal? I don't think any of us have ever been normal, Thalia. Not even close. But sure, let's pretend." He winked at me, and I couldn't help but laugh, the tension easing just a bit, replaced by a flicker of genuine amusement.

The four of us lingered by the fountain. For a brief time, we allowed ourselves to simply exist—together, without the weight of the unspoken threat hanging over us like a dark cloud.

The hours passed more quickly than I realized. For a brief time, my world felt normal, almost… peaceful. But like a fragile bubble, the peace shattered. It started with a flicker in Damon's expression—a subtle tightening of his jaw that I probably wouldn't have noticed if I hadn't been watching him so closely. Then, as if drawn to his unease, shadows began to slither across the ground toward him, coiling and uncoiling like restless serpents.

"Father's calling," Damon muttered, an almost imperceptible eye roll hinting at his frustration. He glanced back at us, his voice lowering. "Looks like playtime's over. We need to head back."

The shadows—now thicker and darker—coiled around his wrist like a living bracelet, pulsing with a faint, inner light. He sighed, a heavy sound that seemed to carry the weight of the world, mumbling something under his breath that I couldn't make out. With a last, lingering look at the fountain, we turned and made our way back to the castle. The warmth of the afternoon seemed to evaporate with each step we took.

* * *

"What isit that you need, Damon?" Astaroth, Damon's father, asked, his voice echoing through the grand hall as we entered.

I knew Damon, Nox, and Zarek wanted to keep me out of this discussion. They had tried to dismiss me, saying it wasn't my concern—a matter best left to the Shadow Kingdom's inner workings. But after everything I had endured—after the pain, the violation of my very being—I needed answers, I needed to know the name of the bastard responsible.

"As you know, Arethax is coming. We could use your support, Father," his tone both respectful and commanding. His words were sharp, each syllable carrying a weight that made it clear this was not a casual request. His father studied him for a long moment, his dark eyes like chips of obsidian, before his gaze shifted to me—a flicker of something unreadable in their depths.

"You really should stop playing around, Damon," Astaroth said, his tone almost dismissive, a hint of amusement lacing his words. "It's a waste of time. You know that eventually, when you're strong enough, you'll be next in line to rule this kingdom." The smile that spread across his face—slow and predatory—made my stomach twist. It was a smile that promised power and cruelty in equal measure.

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