Chained to the Devil’s Daughter (Mating the Elements #1)

47

Searra

D read. Ash’ren placed a steadying hand on the small of my back, and I realized I’d been shaking my head against the overwhelming sense of doom.

My mate didn’t appear as hopeless as I felt. Unflappable as always, the determined set of his jaw bolstered my confidence. I could do this. I had to. No one else could get close enough.

Ash’ren did not like my idea, but our silent competition yielded to me, and I knew he could be trusted not to rush in before my signal. My signal being simple: stab him in the balls. Or wherever I had the opportunity.

I stepped away from the corner. I palmed my poison-dipped dagger and approached my father from behind. Devil didn’t flinch when I pressed the tip of the blade to his nape, a pinprick of skin mottling by the touch of poison. He chuckled and flipped the page in his book.

I pushed the dagger further, until its tip sliced into skin and sent a dribble of orange blood down his nape. Dragging my elbow back in a slicing motion, my hand, the dagger—

It wouldn’t move.

“Hello, Little Torch.”

“I am not yours,” I said, my voice surprisingly steady, the rest of me utterly frozen. “You stole me from people who may have loved me.”

“Maybe.”

“The way you’ve treated your people is blasphemy. I was wrong to let you live. I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

He chuckled again. He peered at me over a shoulder that rose and fell indifferently. “My fault for not teaching you better, daughter .”

“Not your daughter.”

“No.” He gestured to the portal with his free hand, which had changed scenery. “No one’s daughter, then. It’s hard to have a family farm when the ground is a crater.”

The amused tone of his voice made my stomach churn. I didn’t want to look, but in the end, I couldn’t help it.

Snow fell steadily over a barren land. Enormous holes littered the landscape. There was some debris, which was the only clue that something had once been there. The corner of a windowpane. The busted wood of a door, knob attached. A half-buried fork. In the distance, rusty farm equipment.

My vision blurred, my suspended hand forced to stay still and not waver. I blinked it off, but Devil had done his damage. One hand awkwardly keeping contact with the book, he reached for me, tucking a stray braid behind my shoulder. I snarled like some kind of animal, trying to brandish my dagger, but my weapon hand didn’t move.

“Poor dear,” he cooed. He gently brushed a finger over my velvet choker, hiding the crescent scar I had no explanation for. “Don’t you want to know? No survivors. You’ll never know if you were loved or not.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m loved here.”

Devil laughed, his brow arching as he regarded me with that creepy smirk. “Are you? Is one lowly demon’s lust truly good enough? Technically, you’re royalty.” His features appeared to soften. He reached toward me again, caught himself, and dropped his fist. “I cared for you, in my way. Care for you. Why don’t we put this behind us, and everything can go back to the way it was. Families argue all the time, but we stick together. Does that sound all right, Little Torch?”

Pain blossomed in my chest and I glanced down, only to see nothing was lodged in my chest but my turmoil. His hands were nowhere near me. One of them twitched where it kept contact with the book. I stared at it for a moment, until I was sure of what I was seeing.

Trust my intuition. That’s what everyone kept telling me, what Ash’ren hedged all his bets on. My gut.

Meeting Devil’s pleading stare, I mumbled, “Fine. But you must promise not to hurt them.”

I wasn’t stupid enough to think my father’s grin was pure, but he nodded as he flipped the page of the book again, flexing his fist once it was free.

My elbow dropped. Then my whole hand.

“That’s it, dear one. I never meant to hurt you.” Victory dripped from Devil’s tongue. He reached out and wrapped his arms around me, and damn it, I leaned into his embrace. I had to get a little closer. . .

My hands fisted Devil’s robes. I smashed my cheek against him, letting my weight be fully supported. It was the third time in my life that he’d hugged me.

Behind his back, I raised my dagger.

“I’ve been working on something huge, daughter. Do you recall this book?” One of Devil’s arms dropped away, but he held my waist with the other as he indicated the book my dagger was aimed for a baby’s breath ago. “I found a way to lengthen your life, Little Torch. When I’m gone. . . Do you know why I called you Little Torch all those years?” He chuckled, and I could’ve sworn I heard true affection in the sound. “You hated me for weeks when you discovered you had no name. But I’ve always had grander plans for you. As the centuries pass, my dear one, you lose track of names. But legends remain.”

“What are you saying?”

“You’ll live centuries by my side. You will carry on my torch. Me, living on through death.”

On instinct, I brandished my dagger, slicing and dicing wildly. Devil caught my wrist. I struggled in his grasp, wrenching back to gape up at him. “That’s what you’ve been doing? What all those undead things are for?”

“Yes, daughter. It has all been for us.” Devil smirked at my dagger, squeezing my wrist and thumb so hard it stung. “This book had been lost to me, but your grubby little hands unlocked it. I’ve been eating worlds, but there’s an excess of power. This is how I know the land would cede to you! Prepare yourself, Little Torch. This will hurt like a bitch.”

“Wait, now? No! Wait!”

I sputtered, raising my hands defensively, but Devil was faster.

The next few seconds were a blur.

Devil pressed one hand to my chest with enough force to send me falling, but he caught me like a dancer. My chest burned. My vision narrowed until all I saw was his malicious gaze.

“The book!” I shouted. “The book!”

Black fire filled my periphery.

I lashed out.

Devil made a noise. An incoherent shout at first, then my name.

Darkness crept around the edges of my consciousness. The sound of metal clattering to concrete.

Then, nothing.