Page 5 of Once Upon a Demon's Heart
Kalel sits up straight and crosses his legs, seeming off-put by my decision. “You’re a knight? Why are you running from your kingdom?” His tone dips towards the edge of suspicion. Demons hold loyalty as the highest honor. They despise deserters.
I can’t exactly just come out and say, “A terrible attack is coming one week from today and the kingdom of Alzhor will crumble at the hands of your cruel Blood Knight.”That sounds utterly delirious.
“I guess I’ve just grown tired of the senseless killing.”
Not a lie—not the whole truth.
Kalel’s fingers twitch, but he gives me a weak grin. “Well, that’s good to hear, but what if your king sends his men to come looking for you? What then? Won’t they hang you for abandoning your duties?” He sounds more curious than worried, like he doesn’t entirely believe me. I wonder if he’s trying to learn about me as much as I am trying to learn about him.
I stare off into the dark underbrush, listening to the whispers that thread through the twisted roots, and nod slowly. “Yes, but it would be better than the fate I’ve been dealt.”To die forever at one man’s hand.
A breeze rolls through and sets a chill into my bones. I should’ve at least grabbed my winter cloak. I didn’t think that the weather would be colder in the east than it was in the kingdom. Kalel doesn’t miss the shiver that runs through me. He slowly rises.
I move to stand as well, reaching for my blade, but he lifts his hand. “Stay put, you’re freezing.” I hesitate, watching closelyas he walks around me and drops his cloak over my shoulders. It’s much heavier than I could’ve imagined and draws a soft gasp from my lips.
My eyes widen and I lift my chin to him, taking in how much taller and broader he is up close as he circles back to his spot across the fire.
I’m consumed by the scent of earth and crisp leaves—alder wood. His scent. The extra layer instantly adds warmth back to my body. It must be made from a fire dragon’s hide, nothing in Faultore can compare to it. In Alzhor, this cloak is worth a small fortune. Dragons don’t roam our territory; they haven’t for centuries. Not since Devilstones and dire wolves were still a problem, and the gods hadn’t yet abandoned us. Dragons stick to the path leading toward the underworld. Some believe they guard the Gates of Mortem, but there’s never been a soul to confirm the idea. No one dares to go near the gates to the underworld. Not even demons, one would think.
My eyes narrow at Kalel.So how did an apothecary get their hands on one?And to hand it over so easily to a demigod too? It doesn’t add up. Who is he really?
“Aren’t you cold?” I ask, staring at his long-sleeve shirt. Suspenders are strapped around his shoulders—one leather belt stretches across his chest with a black metallic buckle at the center.
He shakes his head. “No. I’m a demon. Most of our species don’t get cold at all. The thick clothes are more or less for appearances only.”
My lips press together thoughtfully. That’s something we’ve never learned about them. Is that why they aren’t suffering in the winter pursuit on our kingdom the way King Borlin assumed they would? How ignorant of us. There is so much our kingdoms don’t know about each other, yet we slaughter one another so readily. It’s disgusting. It’s pitiful how I’ve come to bemuch more thoughtful after all the bloodshed. Weariness grows wisdom in guilty souls.
“You’re a knight… let me ask you this, Alira. Did you fight in Thornhall?” His voice turns colder with the question.
I flinch at the sound of the village’s name. Thornhall was the first demon village that the demigods took siege over after a false treaty was signed. A trick—something the gods are notorious for and us demigods don’t stray far from our parents. King Borlin wanted their guard to be down. He knew they would take the treaty seriously while he plotted their demise. A truly horrible act.
We killed every man, woman, and child. If they were a demon, they were marked for death in Thornhall. It still haunts my dreams. I hear the screams of terror clearly whenever the world around me falls silent. It happened a month before my one-week loop began, so thankfully I’m not forced to relive it repeatedly. If I did, I would’ve tried to stop the massacre.
I should’ve refused to participate in the first place, but I didn’t. I followed orders blindly. And that decision has tormented my every waking moment since. Part of me believes what happened in Thornhall is the reason for my curse, but if it’s true, then why am I the only one being punished?
“No. I didn’t.” The lie tastes sour.
A grim expression passes over Kalel’s face, like he can sense that I’m lying. My nerves ignite and I look down at the fire. I know how devastating that attack was to the demons. It was enough to spark the siege we’re currently under. Our ruination.
“My mother was killed that night.”
A small gasp escapes me. Dread crashes into my chest and freezes my entire body. My words are weak, and I hope he can’t hear the guilt they’re drowned in. “I’m so sorry.”
He nods slowly, staring into the flames. A darkness that wasn’t there a moment ago clouds his features as he shifts his gaze to me. “I am too.”
Silence stretches between us, and it is only interrupted by my stomach growling. The sound brings him out of his thoughts. He chuckles softly before pouring another bowl of soup and handing it to me. A small dimple forms on the left corner of his mouth, but it does nothing to hide the sadness in his gaze. His eyes linger on my long silver hair.
He’s kind.
A very long time ago, I once knew a demon to be kind. But we were children then. I’m sure he would’ve grown into a ferocious man who killed many demigods, just as I’ve grown to slay demons.
This time I take the bowl and offer a smile in return. “Thank you.”
“I wish you well on your grand escape, Alira, but may I offer you some advice?” Kalel slowly stands to leave. I realize he doesn’t have a horse tied up nearby and I wonder how long it will take him to go back to... wherever it is he’s come from.
“I’m listening,” I say with a light tone, cupping the bowl with my hands and absorbing the warmth.
His expression relaxes and his lovely smile vanishes. He stares at me for a long while, considering his words.
