Page 11 of Devour
Is she powerful enough to keep the monsters at bay?
I’ve not heard of a sorceress able to spell away a shadowscelp, let alone an adolescent one.
Moments creep by. The sizzle of the shadows rise and fall. The booming cackle of the shadowscelp’s call to its young is painful to my ears, but the dark magic tugging at my soul never appears.
In those long moments, I memorize Astella’s chant, even though I know the words will do nothing from my powerless lips.
I mentally chant along with her until my mind and heart begin to slow.
My limbs settle into the warmth of the spell and a little girl’s arms.
If this is how I die—at peace with her—I would bless the stars in thanks. I would forgive the universe for every trauma it has laid on my shoulders.
I fall asleep with soft prayers that do not belong to me on my lips, of peace and escape from the monsters that hunt us.
Even though I’ve long known that prayer does not reach the heavens in these ruinous lands.
4
Haze
My chest is torn open, my soul bleeding. But no one notices.
Except for the monster awaiting me in the shadows.
The small cave is quiet as we approach. The screeching of the shadowscelp halted a mile ago, likely because of what awaits us at our camp.
The rumbling that shudders through me should be fearsome, but it is my one and only comfort.
Five massive reptiles are curled up in a pile, purring like kittens, despite the fact that they are ferocious beasts any wise human would fear.
Mavros lifts his massive head first.
He does not speak, and yet I can feel his warmth reaching out to me as if he knows the pain I hide. He is the largest of our five by nearly half, and one of the largest in the entire nest. Does he sense that I am near to breaking? Can he feel the black blood oozing from the hole where my heart should be?
He slithers from the slumbering pile of scales and claws and stalks toward us.
My squad halts, allowing me to approach my drakai first.
The other warriors are not particularly fond of my beast.
I am not the largest or strongest warrior. I am not a leader by choice. And yet, my drakai is the strongest in active duty.
His black eyes peer into mine, and for a moment, I consider falling into him. Letting the emotions drowning me win. I imagine my knees buckling. I imagine the tears falling.
But I do none of those things. Instead, I lean my forehead against his.
I have always been numb. Always been less than the others. Half here, half elsewhere. My soul bleeds, but the Drak’yn people have never noticed. Or cared.
No one has ever noticed—except him, my draken companion.
Despite that, sometimes, I hate him too. He’s part of this system that has stripped me of all freedom. He’s the reason I’ve been spared the peace of death. And yet, as much as I hate him, I adore him. He is mine and I am his, and nothing else has ever made as much sense, not since the day I was dragged below ground and had my soul pierced to become one of these monsters.
Mavros purrs against our slight touch.
“Insanity,” Ronan mutters behind me.
The others have never understood my connection to my drakai. Neither do I, if I’m honest. Maybe it’s because I desperately need the companionship. The connection. I get it nowhere else. If it weren’t for him, I’d never resurface from the chaos in my mind.
