Page 30 of Demonic Cage
Oh. So, it’s not a new word, but a name.
While I stare at Nárs, Darya nods approvingly. “That’s right,” he says. “I’ve never seen anyone accept what they see or hear this easily.”
It’s because I have seen this before. I have seen shattered souls. I almost laugh. It seems that the psych ward has helped me cope with the demonic world.
“Go with Nárs,” Darya instructs, leaving my mouth dry.
“What?”
The transformed man snarls.
Go with him? Train? Where I could get hurt? I clear my throat.
“So, I have no say in what happens to me?”
“Did you not feel ashamed earlier by being called weak?” Darya asks coldly. “Tell me, Lotte, don’t you want to change that?”
“But…” My palms start to sweat as I look into Darya’s eyes. “I need my medication. I can’t become strong without it.”
Darya shakes his head, and anger starts to burn beneath my skin.
“You won’t need it anymore. You’ll manage without it.”
“No!” I gasp, panic racing through me. I clench my fists. I feel dizzy. I want my pills.
“Didn’t you want to quit them?” Darya asks. I fall silent. I hadn’t… I hadn’t meant it seriously.
“You don’t understand…” I whisper fearfully. He can’t deny me my medication. I need those pills.
Darya’s gaze is cold and dismissive, leaving me with only one option. I try to look at him with eyes that convey my suffering.
“Please,” I beg, “just a little!”
An indifferent shadow passes over Darya’s porcelain face.
“What you shouldn’t expect from me, Lotte, is sympathy.”
And with that, he leaves me behind.
No.
“You still have some of those pills you took out of my bag!” I shout at Darya, rushing down the stairs after him. “Give them to me!” I command, and Darya turns around. The unfolding bat wings terrify me so much that I stumble.
He laughs.
“You don’t need the uncertainty caused by your addiction,” he says, looking down at me coldly. His gaze slowly traces over my body as I lie on the stairs. He squats down in front of me.
“If anything, that truly makes you weak. Now,” he adds, pushing a strand of my hair back, “be a good girl and go with Nárs. Don’t worry. He only bites when you ask him to.”
Lizander-Nárs laughs again and claps his hands once more.
“If only you’d ask for it, little Lily!”
“Lily?” Léthé scoffs disdainfully.
“Well, because of the wonderful hair!” Nárs claps his hands again and then fans his face. “He could give you a few fashion tips, too,” he says, before suddenly turning to me. “They call this fashion, don’t they, my little flower?”
“That’s enough,” Darya commands. “Everyone knows their job, so go!”
