Page 73 of The Prince of Demons

“Do you enjoy being the prince?” Now, he looked uncomfortable.

A harrowed, pinched look contorted his features. “It is a responsibility I cannot evade. One I do not take lightly. Fulfilling this responsibility demands sacrifice. Sacrifice of my own wants and needs. I strive to be the opposite of how my father rules: through terror and power. I am rather an embodiment of self-sufficiency and devotion. We all have a duty we fulfill, and this is mine.”

Terror and power. The quintessential traits of every great demon. But why break away from that? For duty?

Was that why he pursued the gumiho and rogue demons so diligently? Because he viewed it as his only purpose in life? As his relentless calling?

“Despite being a deranged bargain maker, you sound like a wonderful prince.”

He reappeared in front of me. “Wonderful?”

I tripped him before he could materialize. He wobbled over me, laughed, and intertwined our fingers. “If you attempt that again, I shall take you down with me.” His voice lightened in promise, though his face was worn.

I saw him then.

The exhaustion. The stress. The lonely, haunted gaze in his eyes. How long had he been laboring alone?

Without thinking, I leaned forward and kissed his cheek, his skin serene and welcoming under my lips. It was brief, just a second, a moment, but he looked back at me like he would cherish it forever.

The stress on his face eased when I drew back, shyly ducking my head to watch the last of my shadows dissolve.

“Until next time,” he promised, wrapping wings of darkness around us to take me home.

ChapterTwenty

THE ORACLE MUSINGS

It’s mental breakdown season! It’s the midway point of the school year, the crunch time of winter finals before the first big break. The pressure is getting to everyone, it seems. Countess Dracula will face expulsion for ripping out a freshman’s neck (but they won’t expel her). Fireworks will explode from Fae House. Even Rose House—bless their happy little baking hearts—will have an outbreak of food poisoning. Time to separate the weak from the strong before the next round. Who will thrive? Who will perish? Don’t be the one who loses control, reader dearest!

Another week passed filledwith idle chatter, doing all the work in group projects, and checking the leaderboard hourly.

Mother said that when she was in school in the 90s, they would publish class rankings daily on a sheet of paper outside the main lecture hall. Because there was no internet, that paper was the only way to see how you did.

Now, faculty posted class rankings daily on a continually updating screen on the school clock tower. Any time there was so much as a late assignment, you could see your place in school drop in real-time.

It was ‘motivational,’ according to our professors.

‘Necessary,’ to weed out the weak from the strong.

‘Sadistic,’ was what I would call it.

Initially, when the Oracle published that column about my relationship, I felt like the laughingstock of the school.

Cameras flashed every time I left my room. Hype and chatter died down as soon as I strode by. Fangirls repeatedly stopped me to ask what their favorite man was “really like” to date.

“Isn’t he just spectacular?” They’d be gushing.

“Spectacularly annoying.” I’d be fuming.

My playlists became increasingly more animated as I used them to drown out any surrounding noise.

But now? With my name continually near the top of the leaderboard? The critics had fallen silent.

Some of them had even sheepishly deleted their stalker photos of me, approaching me after class to ask what my study tips were or if I could share my notes.

Sometimes people would tell kids nonsense like ‘grades aren’t everything.’ But I’d never had that problem. My grades were perfect. 4.0 since grade school.

Grades weren’t everything, but your reputation as a smart person sure was.

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