Page 9 of The Demon's Due
“Síofra.”
“Why?”
Morgan’s throat worked, his voice hoarse. “She’s… my mate.”
Merrik stared, then let out a low whistle. “Damn. You’re lucky. Both your wolf and your mate in one night.” He slapped Morgan’s shoulder, only for him to hiss at the sting of half-healed scratches.His accelerated healing was kicking in. “I am so jealous. Double jackpot.”
Then he paused, “You don't mean…thatSíofra?”
Morgan shook his head. “She hated me before. And now she’s terrified of me.”
Merrik’s brow furrowed. “What happened in there? Everyone is going crazy about an entity?”
Morgan raked a hand through his hair, his mind reeling. Everything was sharper. The forest wasn’t just a blur of shadow and branches anymore-it was alive. He could hear the twitch of a fox a mile away, the flutter of a sparrow’s wings high atop the sequoia. Every detail screamed at him- the sweat beading on Merrik’s skin, the faint crackle of sap in the trees, every hair on his brother’s arm catching the moonlight. Power thrummed under his skin, hot and restless. Strong. Stronger than he had ever been.
Even as he spoke, the wounds along his arms knitted closed before their eyes, pink lines fading into nothing.
But under it all, he sensed something darker. The faint memory of a jagged voice, broken and halting, whispering through his blood.
Warm… alive… pretty thing-mine.
Morgan shuddered.
There had been something else in him before the wolf burst free. Something he had never felt before. Something still lurking in the marrow of his bones.
In the end, Merrik had to lead Morgan back to their rooms. He had stood looking in the direction that Síofra had disappeared with a forlorn expression on his face. His body naturally sensed her close and gravitated towards her-his true north.The Skhol wolves had a whole floor to themselves. Their family was prolific and powerful and more importantly, had donated a whole lot of money to the university. His grand uncle Ruben who was pushing his third century often told them stories of the chests of gold the family had donated to the founders of the university centuries ago. Unfortunately, their wing was on the exclusive side of the accommodation which meant it was far from where Síofra was.
Once there, his strength had given out, his body collapsing into the suffocating silence of his room. He had refused Merrick's worried offer to stay with him through this first night but had bullied him into calling a friend in Síofra’s wing to ensure she had arrived safely. But the longer he was away from Síofra, the worse the restlessness became. A fog pressed in on him, thick and suffocating, dragging at his mind. His chest throbbed, his skin too tight, his thoughts unraveling. Soon, he knew, he wouldn’t just be losing himself if he went into a rut-he’d be hunting her. And his wolf wasn't a pup, he was a full-grown wolf which had been imprisoned for too long.
Just before sleep could claim him came the whisper.
A shadow rippled across the walls, and before his unbelieving eyes, a blackened hand-no, not a hand, a claw-pushed through the skin of his chest. Morgan reeled back with a strangled sound as an arm, a torso, a body peeled itself out of him like moltenbark sprouting from a tree trunk. It stopped halfway, fused to him, it's ember-lit eyes burned like fire.
Morgan screamed. “What the fuck…What the fuck”
The thing straightened, burning eyes locking onto him at close quarters. It;s voice was a jagged scrape, halting and broken but clear enough to understand.
“Mortal. You. Mine now. Your essence... delicious.”
Morgan backed into his desk taking the creature with him, sending books crashing to the floor. “No. Nope. Not happening.”
The creature threw its horned head back, its laughter rolling low like stone cracking in a cavern. “Halt.No escape. I command. I…King of Demons. Now we find her.”
There was a knock at the door.
“Morgan? Is everything alright?",shouted Merrik through the door.
How did he explain a demon sprouting from his chest?
“I’m fine. Dropped a book on my toe,” he answered, not taking his eyes off the demon.
He heard Merrik mutter something as he walked away.
Morgan grabbed the nearest chair and tried to insert it between them. It went straight through. The demon didn’t even flinch.
“Oh, that’s comforting,” Morgan muttered, pulse hammering.
The demon leaned close, smoke curling from its jagged grin. “Why fight? You breathe. I drink. You fight. I win.”
