Page 54 of Demonic Cage
He puts his hand in his pocket, and a cruel smile forms on his lips. Heat floods my face. Darya is perfect. Beautiful. But he…
“You bit me!” I blurt out.
The Kraldem’s lizard-like smile doesn’t rise any higher – only his eyes narrow. It’s as if he’s not entirely himself. His stride slows as he approaches the bed, and he sighs heavily when he lies down. He places one hand under his nape, the other on his muscular stomach.
With his massive wings stretched out among the black blankets, I stand here, shattered. I try to comprehend that the Demon King, who kidnaps children, breaks them, and drinks my blood, is now sprawled semi-naked in the bed where I just slept. Finally, the Kraldem lets out a sigh and looks at me amusedly but tiredly.
“Why? Didn’t you enjoy it?” he asks.
“No!” I respond sharply. “Especially considering you handed me over to Sylla afterwards!”
“I agree, that was indeed too much for you,” he admits. “Although, I didn’t realize you’d react so fiercely. It’s a shame you missed out on the first night of the ritual.”
It takes a moment for me to comprehend what he means by this. Did I sleep through an entire day?
“You broke and transformed children into demons without me?” I roll my eyes. “I deeply regret missing out.”
Darya grins. “You’ll make up for it today. Now, let me sleep.”
“You want to sleep here?!” I exclaim.
“Can I not lay my head down in my own room?”
Is this the Demon King’s suite? And I slept in his bed?
“It seems you’re surprised,” Darya says drowsily. I imagined his room differently. Not so modest, not so human.
“I just don’t understand where your torture devices are,” I say, my tone deadpan. “I thought they made up most of your decor.”
“If you’d like to try them out, I can show you,” Darya teases, hovering between sleep and wakefulness, but then he removes his hand from his eyes and looks at me provocatively. I don’t take the bait.
“If this is your room, why did you bring me here?” I ask.
“Because this is the only place,” he says, yawning, “where no demon ever comes up. I wouldn’t have been able to guarantee your safety in your chamber during the ritual.”
I gaze at his slowly moving, magnificent chest, and examine the sleepy lines of his face. My eyes widen.
“Wait,” I start, “are you… hungover?”
Darya lets out a big sigh, and he says the next sentence in such an irritated tone, it’s as if he’s explaining something obvious to a foolish child.
“Yes, Lotte, I am hungover, as you call it. And if you don’t let me sleep for a few hours, I’ll tie you to a chair, and you can watch on with your mouth taped up. Although, that might not be much of a punishment for you.” He smirks. “Of course, you can also look at the scrolls.”
I take a step closer to the bed, infusing as much contempt into my voice as I can.
“You’re poison, Darya.”
However much I planned for the tone to be just right, only a smile remains on the Demon King’s lips.
“The books are on the left side,” he says. “Be careful with them, some of them are unique.”
I start studying the scrolls. Most of them are either boring sketches or war logs. Zóni Polémous, Year 4501, Loss 43, captives 0. Maavica, Year 4502, Loss 14, Captives 1. Sometimes they describe the new tactics used in the war with the Herebias; a war that, judging from the scrolls, has been going on for thousands of years.
When I angrily slam one of the books shut, it makes too much noise. However, the Demon King remains motionless, perhaps in the deepest sleep of his life. I smile. I pick up another book from the table and drop it to the floor.
Nothing. Darya keeps on snoozing. His tattooed chest rises rhythmically.
I pick up the gold-covered book to once again slam it to the ground, when something very familiar catches my eye. The finely crafted spine and edges shine with a golden hue. I flip through it. This is the same book I’ve been reading in my bed for weeks!
