Page 36 of The Demon and the Broken Girl

Another shuddering breath escapes my lungs. The sky stretches vast and empty above, starlight offering no comfort. My eyes sting with unshed anger and regret.Even if we find a way to break the contract, would it mean losing her forever?The idea carves a hollow ache inside me. But I can’t keep her enslaved. She should be free to choose her life, not shackled to a demon with a cursed past.

With an unsteady resolve, I move a few steps nearer, though still out of her reach. She stands where I left her, arms wrapped around her torso, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. My heart twists at the sight, but I keep my distance. Let her gather hercomposure. Let me gather mine. We are bound by magic, but right now, we are separated by the havoc of fear and pain.

Tomorrow, perhaps, we’ll find a calmer moment to speak—to mend this rift or at least place a balm on the wound. But for tonight, the darkness claims us both. And I remain on the edge of it, swirling in my cloak of guilt, silently cursing my own cowardice, my inability to share the deepest secret lurking in my shadows. If she knew the danger that stalks me, that might soon stalkher…

But no. Not yet.

Wind whips across the grass, sending it rippling like a dark ocean. The stars watch, distant and uncaring, as two souls bound by demon law drift in the night, each battered by truths too heavy to speak. Tomorrow, I vow, I’ll find a way to soothe her. For now, I stand alone, my back to her trembling figure, the bond throbbing with an ache I can scarcely endure. And in that ache, I realize how deeply I need her light—and how unworthy I feel to keep it.

9

CALLA

Ikeep my distance from Daeva as we trudge across the moonlit plains, my hands tightly clutching the straps of my pack, shoulders bowed against a wind that carries the lingering scent of autumn. The night stretches endlessly ahead, and my mind churns with raw thoughts, replaying the harsh words he threw at me hours ago. He’s a silent silhouette several paces in front, hood drawn low over his white hair. Though the bond thrums—an unrelenting thread of awareness—I feel as if a yawning chasm stretches between our hearts.

I can’t ignore the sting of his accusation: that I’m weak, that I’m only going to chain him down with my mortality. It cuts deeper than any physical wound, because I surrendered my soul to him, believing we shared a mutual need. Yet, perhaps he’s right: compared to his centuries of power, I am fragile. A liability. Still, the memory of that single, heated kiss we shared, when I sealed my contract, reminds me I’m not worthless.He wanted me, needed me.Or so I believed.

Step after step, we push on. I’m exhausted, but the tension crackling beneath my skin won’t let me rest, not while our last conversation hangs unresolved in the air. Occasionally, Daevaglances back, the lamplight from distant stars catching the faint shape of his jaw under the hood, but he never speaks. I feel the echo of his mood: conflict, regret, a swirl of anger that he’s trying to tamp down. I sense he’s hiding something crucial from me, a secret that spurs his desperation to keep me at arm’s length. Fear, perhaps, or an old enemy he refuses to name.

Eventually, the plains give way to a rocky slope dotted with twisted trees. Shadows drape the landscape, weaving an ominous tapestry around us. My boots crunch over loose gravel. A cluster of jagged boulders juts out, creating a natural cave-like formation in the hillside. Daeva stops, lifting a hand for me to see.

“We’ll stay here tonight,” he says in a low voice. “We’ll move on in the morning.”

I nod, lips pressed together. The space between us seethes with unspoken tension. Clinging to battered pride, I follow him inside the rocky shelter. It’s large enough that we can hunker down out of the night winds. The walls are rough stone, carved by time and water, with a low ceiling at the rear. It smells faintly of dust and old soil. A short way in, there’s enough room to stand upright without scraping our heads.

Without a word, we set about making a rudimentary camp. He gathers scattered sticks and lights a small fire with an effort of his demonic power, something quick and unobtrusive—just a faint flicker of chaotic magic that ignites the wood. Normally, I might have stared, enthralled by the graceful control of his abilities, but my heart’s bruised. I keep my gaze on the kindling until the flames catch and warm the cold stone.

We sit on opposite sides of the flickering fire, the glow dancing over our faces. My arms wrap around my knees as I lean back against the stone wall, wishing I had the nerve to confront him about everything. But we’re both too raw. Maybe tomorrow. Sleep might ease these wounds.

“You should rest,” he finally says, voice guarded. “I’ll keep watch.”

His tone brooks no argument, but it’s not unkind. I let my head nod in acknowledgment. Words hover on the tip of my tongue—Am I truly that worthless in your eyes?—but I can’t bring myself to say them. Instead, I scoot a little farther from the flames, curling up near a flat outcropping of rock that forms a makeshift pillow. I keep my back half-turned to him, heart heavy. His own presence radiates across the cave, reminding me that physically, we’re close, yet emotionally a world apart.

In the flicker of half-sleep, my mind conjures the image of him trapped in that cursed mirror, centuries of solitude etched into the lines of his face. I recall the hollow look in his eyes when he first emerged, how he stared at me as if I were a miracle he didn’t believe in.He lived in darkness for so long,I remind myself.Maybe that’s why he’s pushing me away. He doesn’t know how to trust—or love—freely anymore.

Eventually, my exhausted body claims me, and I drift into a restless slumber. The crackle of the fire dulls into white noise, and my last coherent thought is a wish that dawn might bring even a fraction of clarity between us.

I wake suddenlyto the chill of the night and the insistent pressure in my bladder. The fire has dwindled to low embers, casting the cave in shadowy half-light. I blink groggily, pushing myself up on shaky elbows. Daeva is nowhere in sight, though I sense the tether of our bond faintly—he must be outside, possibly scouting the area.

Stifling a tired groan, I rise and pick my way around the dying fire. I slip beyond the cave entrance, bracing against the cold air that stings my cheeks. The moon has emerged frombehind thick clouds, drenching the boulders in a silver wash. I move a short distance away for privacy.

After I finish relieving myself behind a rock, I shake my head to clear the remnants of sleep. My breath steams in the crisp air, and I tilt my chin up to the moon, letting that pale glow ease my frayed nerves.Would it be so hard for him to trust me?

A sudden rustle of movement behind me jolts my thoughts. I spin, heart leaping into my throat, expecting to see Daeva. Instead, my gaze collides with the slim silhouette of a dark elf, half-lit by moonlight. My veins ice over. The figure’s pointed ears, elongated limbs, and mocking grin reveal his heritage in an instant.

He’s not alone. Three others melt from behind the boulders, forming a loose ring around me. My pulse jackhammers.Dark elves—here, in the wilderness?

“Well, well,” the first elf purrs, voice dripping with condescension, “what have we here? A stray human, all alone in the middle of the night?”

I back away a step, scanning for any sign of Daeva, cursing myself for venturing so far. Where is he? The bond thrums, but I don’t sense him close enough to intervene immediately. My heart beats faster, adrenaline pumping. “I’m—just passing through,” I manage, trying to steady my voice.

One of the elves laughs, a cruel sound that makes my skin crawl. “Oh, we know humans. We keep them as slaves back in our estate. We can always use more.” A scimitar gleams in his hand, reflecting the moonlight.

“Stay back,” I warn, though my voice shakes. A part of me wishes I had a weapon, but I carry only the dull knife for cooking.Daeva, please,my mind calls silently.Hear me.

They move in, smirks spreading like wolves scenting blood. A harsh command barks from the largest elf—a whipcord-thinfigure with a scar slashing across his face. “We’ll have some fun first,” he sneers. “Then we’ll see if you’re worth taking.”

Fear lances through me, but it twists into defiance. I turn on my heel and bolt, mind racing. If I can just reach the cave or find Daeva, I have a chance. Rocks slip underfoot, threatening to tumble me. My breath comes fast, heart thundering as I scramble over uneven ground, moonlight spinning the shadows into a maze.

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