Page 102 of Demonic Cage
“No one could truly love a monster.”
Unconsciously, my gaze shifts to Darya nearby, who converses silently with Sylla. Facing the red eyes doesn’t bother him at all.
Monster.
Kripot is wrong. It’s very easy to fall in love with a monster.
“How…?”
When I look back, Kripot has vanished from my sight. I turn back to Nárs, and recoil. The green gnome stands just an arm’s length away.
“Hello, hello, Pandora!” he addresses me, and the name evokes warmth, petals, and peaceful emotions in my heart. With every word from the creature, his curved back trembles as he leans heavily on his rickety staff, sharp axe beside him.
“Hepotis,” I sing his name, and his wrinkled eyes widen. “Can I help you?”
Green light dances before my eyes as I look at the gnome. He grins with yellowed teeth.
“You know, I-I made her, the one who’s now y-y-you.”
I tilt my head to the side.
“Pandora!” he shouts, slamming his staff on the stone. “I-I brought her out of the ground and cre-created her, w-when she was ch-chosen.”
Dizziness washes over me, and I sit back down next to Nárs. The gnome follows.
“So, you mean you… shaped… her appearance?”
He nods vigorously.
“I-I’ll s-s-shape you…”
“What do you mean?” I ask the green creature, but before he can answer, Darya appears.
“He means that, when you become one of us, he’ll help create your demonic form.”
I don’t want to be a demon, a quiet voice says within me.But you do,counters another.
Before I can decide which one to side with, Darya puts his wrist to my lips again. The warmth of the blood awakens me; I’m myself once more. I smile as the Demon King removes his hand.
“If I truly become a demon, you should really take me dancing,” I say. Darya’s grip on the armrest tightens. He exhales too slowly.
“When you become a demon,onedance won’t beenough.”
“It’s not enough rightnow.” I laugh, licking his cheek. He tightens his grip on my throat and leans me back against the chair. His kiss is wild and overpowering, and I smile. I kiss him back fervently. I can’t fear Darya. The demon extricates himself from my embrace and looks at me sternly, but I keep smiling. He grunts and strides down the stairs to the stone corridor that rises from the ground. I can’t take my eyes off his sculpted back muscles and the scars left bare by the short leather jacket around his waist. He rakes his silver hair with his sleeveless leather gloves, then stops at the foot of the stairs.
In a tone I’ve never heard before, he bellows. Every demon turns to him, the music fading.
“Émías nosoik!” he declares. “Let the ritual begin!”
Excitedly, Nárs taps my shoulder.
“What did he say? What did he say?” he asks.
I study the demon’s hazel eyes attentively.
“Why do you like Kripot?”
“Did he say that? Did he really say that? I don’t believe he said that, but I also don’t understand why I wouldn’t like him? He’s so handsome and smart – seriously, Lily Girl, you should see how he strategizes when we have to fend off the herebias. Even Lizander gets hard when they’re in the same room, and despite his denial, I can feel what he feels. He usually stands at the table, silently, with strong arms, and his thighs tremble against mine when…”
