Azraeth's POV
My hand is around her throat, and I want to squeeze.
Five hundred years. Five hundred years of torture in that prison, and the first soul I bond with is this trembling human girl who smells like old books and fear.
But I can't kill her. The mark won't let me.
I feel her pulse racing under my fingers. Her brown eyes are wide with terror, and through our new bond, her panic floods into me like poison. She's genuinely shocked. She didn't know this would happen.
Which means she's either the best liar I've ever met, or she's an idiot who performed a soul-binding ritual without understanding what it does.
I'm betting on idiot.
I release her throat. She drops to the floor, gasping and coughing. The mark on her chest glows through her torn shirt—black and silver, exactly like mine. The Soul Mark. The rarest magic in existence. The same mark I had with Morwenna.
The same mark that got Morwenna killed.
"Get up," I command.
She doesn't move. Just sits there holding her throat, staring at me like I'm a nightmare come to life.
Good. She should be afraid.
"I said get up." I let power leak into my voice—the kind that makes humans obey without thinking.
She scrambles to her feet, swaying. She's small. Fragile. Nothing like Morwenna, who was tall, powerful and confident. This girl looks like a strong wind could break her.
"What's your name?" I ask.
"M-Mireya," she whispers. "Mireya Ashcroft."
"Wrong. Your true name. The one you used in the ritual."
Her face goes pale. "Mireya the Betrayed."
The Betrayed. Of course. I can feel it through the bond now—the anger simmering under her fear. Someone hurt her badly. Recently.
"Do you know what you've done, Mireya the Betrayed?"
She shakes her head.
"You've bound your soul to mine. Forever. If you die, I return to my prison—or worse, I die with you. If I die, you follow me into darkness." I step closer, and she backs up until she hits the wall. "We're stuck together now. Your life feeds mine. Your magic is mine to command. And every emotion you feel, I feel too."
Her hand goes to the mark on her chest. "No. No, that can't be right. The research said—"
"Your research was incomplete." I lean down until we're eye to eye. "Did you really think you could summon the Demon King and walk away unscathed?"
Tears fill her eyes. Not because she's sad—because she's furious. I can feel it burning through the bond.
"I just wanted to prove I wasn't worthless," she says, her voice breaking. "I wanted to show them I was right about the demons, about the magic. I didn't know it would—" She gestures at the mark. "I didn't know!"
"Then you're a fool."
She flinches like I slapped her.
Through the bond, I feel her shame. Her self-hatred. She actually believes she's worthless. Someone really did a number on her.
Before I can say anything else, footsteps thunder down the basement stairs.
"Mireya!" a male voice shouts. "I know you're down here!"
The girl's face goes white. "Kieran," she breathes.
The door slams open. A man in expensive clothes rushes in with six armed guards behind him. He's handsome in that boring human way—perfect hair, perfect smile, completely forgettable.
His eyes land on Mireya, then on me, then on the summoning circle.
His face transforms into pure excitement. "I knew it! I knew you'd be stupid enough to actually try it!" He points at me. "Do you know what you've done, Mireya? You've summoned a real demon! This will make me the most famous researcher in history!"
Through the bond, I feel Mireya's emotions spike—betrayal, rage, humiliation all mixed together.
"Kieran, please," she says. "Just let me explain—"
"Explain?" He laughs. "I don't need you to explain. I need you to stay right there while my men capture both of you." He nods to the guards. "The demon alive if possible. The girl—" He shrugs. "Dead or alive, doesn't matter."
Oh.
Oh, this insect hurt her.
I can feel it through the bond—this is the one who betrayed her. The one who made her feel worthless.
A slow smile spreads across my face.
"You must be the ex-boyfriend," I say pleasantly.
Kieran's eyes snap to me. "It speaks! Fascinating. The guards will—"
"Tell me something, insect." I take a step forward. "Do you know what five hundred years of torture teaches a demon?"
He backs up. "Stay where you are! Men, restrain—"
"Patience." Another step. "Control." Another. "And very creative ways to make someone suffer."
The guards raise their weapons—guns that glow with magic bullets. Cute.
"That woman behind me?" I gesture at Mireya without looking away from Kieran. "She's mine now. Soul-marked and demon-claimed. And you just threatened to kill her."
"Fire!" Kieran screams.
The guards shoot. Magic bullets fly at me.
I don't even move. Shadows explode from my body like living things. They catch the bullets mid-air and crush them. Then they lash out at the guards, wrapping around them like snakes.
The men scream as my shadows lift them off their feet and hurl them through the stone walls. The sound of breaking bones echoes through the basement.
Kieran tries to run.
I'm faster.
My hand catches him by the throat—the same way I held Mireya, but this time I'm not gentle. I lift him until his feet dangle in the air.
"Please," he chokes. "Please, I'll give you anything—"
"I don't want your anything, insect." I lean close. "But I do want you to deliver a message. Tell the angels. Tell the witches. Tell anyone who thinks they can hunt us." My grip tightens. "Mireya Ashcroft is under the protection of the Demon King. Anyone who touches her dies screaming."
I throw him across the room. He crashes into a bookshelf and doesn't get up.
Behind me, I hear Mireya's shocked breathing.
I turn to face her. She's staring at me with wide eyes—not just fear anymore. There's something else in her expression. Awe, maybe. Or gratitude.
"We're leaving," I tell her. "Now."
"Where—"
"Anywhere but here. That insect will bring reinforcements. Angels, probably. Maybe witches." I hold out my hand. "Come with me, or stay and die. Choose."
She looks at my hand. At the destruction around us. At Kieran's unconscious body.
Then she looks at me.
Through the bond, I feel her decision before she makes it.
She takes my hand.
Power surges through me—the bond strengthening with her acceptance. Shadows wrap around us both. The world starts to dissolve into darkness.
But just before we teleport, the ceiling explodes.
Brilliant white light floods the basement. A figure drops through the hole—golden armor, white wings, and a sword that burns like the sun.
An angel.
"Demon King," the angel says, her voice cold as winter. "Step away from the human."
I recognize her immediately. The wings. The armor. The hatred in her eyes.
Seraphina. Commander of the Celestial Guard.
The one who killed Morwenna.
Through the bond, Mireya feels my rage. She gasps, stumbling against me.
Seraphina's eyes narrow. "The human is marked. How unfortunate." She raises her sword—the blade that can kill demons permanently. "I'll just have to kill you both."
The blade comes down.
And the world explodes into fire and shadow.