Page 134 of Demonic Cage
I’m in front of him. I kiss him. Losing myself in his arms solves old nightmares. Another piece of my soul breaks off. Guilt burns like fire. Darya leans down, hugging me, whispering in my ear.
“Am I your darkest secret, my little champion?”
When I shake my head, the lie burns me. When I nod, I can breathe again. The Demon King strokes my face, gently pressing my lips with his thumb.
“This desire will never change,” he whispers.
Desire…
My eyes widen. Someone is missing from here. My brother. I forgave him. I forgave myself. My desire…
I close my eyes. Then I open them again, this time for real. I’m in another room, azure fog covering the ground, snakes hissing at my feet. Sylla…
Her bloody gaze pulls me back. The knife is once again in my hand, and my family are in front of me, waiting for me to finish them. No. I shouldn’t be here. I look at my dagger. My blue eyes reflect on its surface.
I breathe deeply and open my eyes again. I’m back in the snake-filled cave. My body is tense, and my legs already petrified from the curse creeping up. I’m holding my bag. The desires…
I can barely move, but my hand digs into my bag. My slow fingers find their target. A small, round object, but Sylla is very close to me.
“Let’s see what your soul’s darkest part is,” I hiss, holding up my compact mirror to Sylla.
Her eyes initially remain still, then slowly widen.
And then the darkness pulls me back again.
I can breathe; I’m free, but something is wrong. The place is unfamiliar. I’m in a room. Everything is dimly dark, as if tar has scorched the place. I hear crying behind me. I turn. I would draw my knife, but I only see a black-haired little girl. She sobs at her bedside, hugging her knees. Her pale skin is mottled with purple bruises.
A big man enters. The room flares with the smell of alcohol. He smiles at the girl. Unbuttons his pants.
“No!” I scream, running toward the girl. But I can’t save her. The man steps forward, grabs the girl, and my vision goes dark.
Once again, something throws me out. I feel the ache in my broken arm, the pounding in my head, and the difficulty of breathing. I kick myself free from the crystallized rock around my legs, only to collapse immediately. I vomit on the stalactite-laden ground. I can smell the pungent odor of my father’s burned body and taste the frozen tang of my sister’s blood on the tip of my tongue. The little girl… that man… her…
Tears stream down my face as I turn my head. Sylla lies on the ground. That’s why Darya gave her the eye – to keep everyone away. She finishes them off before they can touch her.
Sylla’s form starts turning to stone. She doesn’t deserve this. I rush to her side, crouching by her head, but I don’t touch her. She’s gasping for air. Her arm has already turned to stone. Her dark eyes are veined with red.
“Leave her,” I hear. I snap my head up. A pale green snake hisses beside me. “Run, leave her! Isn’t that what you want?”
My hand trembles as I grip the dagger. Everything is so foggy. Am I still dreaming? Is a snake really talking to me? But it’s right. I already have the key; I just need to find an angel. “She deserves it,” the snake hisses.
I lift the dagger above Sylla. And then something hits me as I piece together my memories.
Darya gave Sylla the eye to keep everyone away. She would never be harmed, never be touched… Darya saved Léthé from slave traders, giving her such power that now she’s stronger than men. Darya provided a place for Nárs to exist in a world where no one judges him. He gave Lizander a home. The Demon King gave Kripot a body so he could have a life.
Darya’s messed-up self showed mercy to souls society had cast out. He took me in, too.
The snake beside me hisses, urging me to kill Sylla. I shake my head. I don’t look at the creature, only at Sylla’s stretched-out form. I extend my hand and, in one swift motion, cut off the snake’s head.
“No,” I say to the dead animal, placing the key dagger into my bag. I keep the other bloodstained blade close. “She doesn’t deserve it.”
With that, I run away from Sylla. I sprint out through the tunnel, to where I entered. My heart pounds with the recent realization. Darya’s world is a haven for those who have no other place to call home. But he is a monster, a liar, a demon who kills people. A manipulative jerk whose every word is half-truth. Someone I don’t know at all.
Nothing is truly black or white. But how can one choose the right thing in such a world? Does the right thing even exist?
My uncertain thoughts are drowned out by the demons’ cries. I don’t have time to focus on this. The sounds of battle reverberate through the walls again, weapons clashing in the distance. As I reach a section covered in vines, my heart skips abeat. Lavian and another dark-skinned angel – the one who was with Lavian when Mathys was killed – are fighting Nárs, who remains unharmed. I let out a sigh of relief, glad to see him alive too.
“Nárs!” I shout, running toward them. All three stare at me. Their skins are covered in blood.
