Page 36 of The Demon's Due
Morgan’s wolf snarled, his voice guttural through gritted teeth. “Not happening.”
Ashmedai seemed to move sluggish inside him, weakened by the circle’s pull. The coven pressed in, chanting louder, their power trying to bind him, dragging at his essence.
Morgan shifted, his sable wolf tearing into the first wave of witches, claws and fangs painted in blood. But even with his strength, they were outnumbered. Síofra had picked up the sword but she didn't have the skill. The circle of witches backed them up until they were within the circle.
Aisha stepped forward, her voice screeching with rage. “The ring. Give it to me!” Her hand stretched out, clawing at what she believed was hers by right.
But another familiar voice whispered, low and molten, inside Síofra’s marrow. Ashmedai.Yes… give it to her. Take it off. Trust me.
For the first time since the age of eleven, Síofra slipped the ring off her finger. It came off with ease, leaving a pale mark where it had rested.
In that moment, cracks spidered through the stones, glowing red, and the circle rippled. Smoke surged up, burning, searing.
Ashmedai rose, no longer veiled within Morgan.
Seven feet tall, horns wreathed in ember-glow, skin black velvet beneath the firelight. His eyes flared-ancient, merciless, bright with victory.
On the threshold he stood, free at last.
As she watched,Ashmedai pulled something from a cloth bag tied around his waist. In their mind, Morgan and Síofra heard him screamclose your eyesas he lifted Stheno’s lock for all to see.
“You wanted the king of demons,” Ashmedai growled, voice layered with a thousand echoes. “Here I am.”
Wind screamed as the coven froze. One by one, they turned to stone, their screams ripped away. In a puff of smoke, the Stheno’s lock disintegrated, leaving silence.
He struck a clean blow and Alia’s stone head rolled, her body collapsing into dust. Ashmedai caught the severed head, lips curling. “You should have stayed pretty, little priestess.” With a flick, he punted it into the sea below.
Centuries of knowledge passed into Síofra in those minutes after she had taken the ring off. It felt like a veil was lifted revealing her true self.
She raised her hands, and the air within the circle ripped open. A portal yawned, black and howling, a nightmare world on the other side. Large pools of black glistened on the other side while sinuous forms swam just beneath the surface. Ashmedai looked at her, reverent. “Mistress of Portals.”
The sword still burned in his hand as he turned within the circle.
It was then he looked at Morgan, still crouched in his wolf form, blood staining his muzzle. Ashmedai’s voice dropped, heavy with a truth he could no longer avoid.
“Yes,” he admitted. “My plan was to take your wolf, descend into the Undercroft with my mate and leave you human without your wolf. Without your mate. That was the price of my freedom. That was what the sword was for.”
Morgan’s hackles rose, a growl deep in his chest.
“But.” Ashmedai’s gaze flicked between them, something almost tender in his tone. “You fought for me when you could have abandoned me. You gave me your strength when mine faltered. For that… I owe you a debt. And I have changed my mind.”
He lowered the sword, its flames dying. “In the Undercroft, I can separate from you. We can be two beings. Here you remain my host. There is no other way for me to exist in this realm. But your wolf will stay yours. We can have a covenant of blood to seal the promise. ”
His golden eyes lingered on Síofra. “The choice is yours, flame-haired queen. Step into the circle with me, and claim what was always meant to be.”
He placed Freyr’s sword in the circle of stones next to the portal to the demon’s realm, turning to her. “Now. Join me.”
Her chin lifted. “Half,” she bargained. “Half in the human world, half in yours. That is the deal.”
Ash studied her, molten eyes calculating. Then he inclined his head. “Agreed. Morgan?”
“I guess I can put up with your ugly arse a while longer. Besides you owe me big time,”drawled Morgan.
Smoke coiled as Síofra opened a wound into her palms. He mirrored her, claw against skin. Then Morgan did the same. They pressed their hands together. The circle flared, the gateway ripping wider.
Then all three were pulled through.
The world split with a wrench of power, and the three of them stumbled onto blackened earth. Ashmedai’s true form unfurled in a rush of smoke and fire. He grew taller, broader- more than seven feet of shadow and embers. Horns spiraled high, glowing faintly as though molten coals had been trapped beneath the ridges. His skin was black, smooth as velvet, and heat rolled from him in waves.
