Damsel to the Demon

7. Mercedes

7

MERCEDES

M y lips still tingle from the demon's searing kiss as shouts pierce the air. Dark elves burst through the trees, their faces contorted with rage. My shock evaporates, replaced by a fury that burns hotter than the fires of the Underworld.

"There she is!" one of them snarls, his silver eyes gleaming with malice.

I bare my teeth, wishing I could rip out their throats. "Come closer, you bastards."

They hesitate, taken aback by the venom in my voice. Good. Let them see the monster they've created. The forest around us seems to hold its breath, the night air heavy with tension.

"Careful," another warns, his hand on his sword hilt. "The captain wants her unharmed."

A bitter laugh escapes me, the sound harsh and foreign to my own ears. "Unharmed? Like you left my family?"

Images flash through my mind - blood-spattered walls, lifeless eyes, Thomas's body crumpling to the floor. My nails dig into my palms, drawing blood. The pain is sharp, grounding, reminding me that I'm still alive when so many others aren't.

"I'll kill you all," I hiss, my voice low and deadly. "Slowly. Painfully."

The lead elf sneers, but I catch a flicker of unease in his eyes. "Big words from a helpless human."

Helpless. The word ignites something primal within me. I imagine my hands around his throat, squeezing until the light fades from his eyes. I picture driving a blade into the captain's black heart, twisting it as he begs for mercy. These vivid fantasies of violence should frighten me, but instead, they bring a perverse sense of comfort.

"You have no idea what I'm capable of," I growl, my body tensing for a fight.

They laugh, but there's an edge of unease to it. They've never seen me like this before - feral, unhinged, dangerous. I'm no longer the docile human they thought they knew. I'm something else entirely, something born of pain and rage.

As they move to surround me, I scan the area for anything I can use as a weapon. A heavy branch, a sharp rock - anything to make them bleed. My heart pounds in my chest, adrenaline coursing through my veins.

The first blow catches me off guard, a fist slamming into my stomach. I double over, gasping for air. The pain is intense, but it only fuels my rage. Another strike, this time to my face. My head snaps back, and I taste blood, metallic and warm on my tongue.

"This is what you get for running, you stupid bitch," one of the elves snarls, his breath hot on my face.

I don't respond. I don't even look at them. My mind is elsewhere, filled with visions of vengeance. I see their bodies broken and bleeding at my feet. I hear their screams of agony. It's all that keeps me going as the blows rain down, each impact sending shockwaves of pain through my body.

They drag me back to the base, my feet scraping against the rough ground. I don't struggle. What's the point? I bide my time, knowing that soon, very soon, I'll have my revenge. The forest gives way to the dark, imposing structure of the elven stronghold, its black stone walls looming ominously in the night.

The dungeon is dark and damp, the air thick with the stench of fear and despair. They throw me inside, and I hit the cold stone floor hard. Before I can catch my breath, they're on me again, boots connecting with my ribs and back.

"You deserve this," one of them spits, landing another kick. "You and your whole pathetic family."

Something inside me snaps at the mention of my family, but I hold it in. I won't give them the satisfaction of seeing me break. Instead, I focus on memorizing their faces, their voices. I'll need to know who to kill first when the time comes.

"At least we're not giving you to the captain dead," another one laughs, landing a final blow to my head. Stars explode behind my eyes, and for a moment, I fear I might lose consciousness.

The rage that's been simmering inside me finally boils over. I no longer care about consequences. My humanity slips away, replaced by something feral and monstrous.

"You think this is over?" I snarl, my voice dripping with venom. "I'll hunt every last one of you down. I'll tear the flesh from your bones and feast on it while you watch!"

The elves exchange uneasy glances, but I'm not finished. The words pour out of me, each one dripping with hatred and promise.

"I'll drink your blood like fine wine," I continue, a maniacal laugh bubbling up from my chest. "And I'll savor every scream, every plea for mercy. You'll beg for death long before I'm done with you!"

One of the elves, his face twisted with disgust and fear, grabs my hair and slams my head against the wall. Pain explodes behind my eyes, but I welcome it. It fuels my rage, sharpens my focus.

"Shut your filthy mouth, human!" he growls, his grip tightening painfully.

I spit blood in his face, grinning like a madwoman. "What's wrong? Scared of a helpless little human?"

He raises his fist again, but another elf grabs his arm, his expression wary.

"Stop! The captain wants her alive. He hasn't had his way with her yet."

The first elf hesitates, then shoves me to the ground with a snarl. "You're lucky, bitch. But your time will come."

They file out of the cell, locking the door behind them. As their footsteps fade away, I'm left alone in the darkness, my head throbbing and my mouth filled with the metallic taste of blood. Every breath sends sharp pains through my ribs, and I can feel my eye swelling shut.

Silence envelops me as I sit in the dank cell, waiting. Minutes stretch into hours. The cold stone leaches the warmth from my body, and I start to shiver.

Where is he? The demon promised to return, to grant me the power for revenge.

Did he lie? Panic claws at my chest, threatening to overwhelm me.

A shadow materializes in the corner, darker than the surrounding gloom. My heart leaps. "You came," I whisper, struggling to my feet.

The world spins violently. My knees buckle beneath me. Strong arms catch me before I hit the floor, their touch burning hot against my chilled skin.

"Careful, little one," his silky voice purrs, sending shivers down my spine.

I blink, trying to focus through the haze of pain and exhaustion. The demon's face swims into view, his eyes glowing like embers in the darkness.

He leans close, his tongue darting out. I flinch, expecting pain, but he merely licks the blood from my temple. The wound tingles, pain fading to a dull throb. His touch is surprisingly gentle, at odds with his fearsome appearance.

His tongue traces my cheekbone, cleaning away tears and grime. "Don't hide those beautiful eyes," he murmurs, his voice low and hypnotic.

I start to cover my face, suddenly self-conscious, but he gently catches my wrists. "What are you-"

His lips press against my eyelids, one after the other. The touch is reverent, almost worshipful. Shock courses through me. This isn't what I expected from a demon. It's tender, intimate in a way that makes my heart race.

"What are you doing?" I ask, voice barely above a whisper.

He pulls back, studying me with an intensity that makes me shiver. His eyes roam over my face, taking in every bruise, every cut. "Savoring you," he replies simply.

His words send a shiver down my spine. Savoring me? Like I'm some delicacy to be consumed? I swallow hard, trying to gather my thoughts. My mind feels foggy, whether from the pain or his presence, I'm not sure.

"The deal," I rasp, my throat dry and sore. "You said you'd help me get revenge."

Azaruk's lips curl into a predatory smile, revealing sharp teeth. "Indeed I did, little one. But first, we must make it official."

My heart pounds against my ribs, a mixture of fear and anticipation. "Official? How?"

"An oath," he purrs, tracing a talon along my jaw. The sharp point sends tingles across my skin. "Bind yourself to me, body and soul, and I'll give you the power to destroy those who wronged you."

I hesitate, the weight of his words sinking in.

Body and soul? What exactly does that entail?

The implications are terrifying, yet a part of me yearns for it, for the power he promises.

As if reading my thoughts, Azaruk continues, his voice dropping to a seductive whisper, "To seal our pact, we must become one. Physically."

My eyes widen as understanding dawns. "You mean..."

"We need to fuck, Mercedes," he states bluntly, his eyes gleaming with hunger and something else... anticipation?

I recoil, my back hitting the cold stone wall. The rough surface scrapes against my bruised skin, a sharp reminder of my vulnerability. "What? No, I can't?—"

"Can't you?" Azaruk challenges, moving closer. His body radiates heat, a stark contrast to the chill of the dungeon. "Think of your family, your Thomas. Think of the pain they suffered. Don't you want justice?"

Images flash through my mind - blood, screams, lifeless eyes. My resolve hardens, pushing aside my fear and hesitation. The faces of my loved ones, forever frozen in their final moments of terror, fuel a fire within me.

"I do," I whisper, clenching my fists. "More than anything."

Azaruk's hand cups my cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle. "Then prove it. Give yourself to me, and I'll give you the world."

I close my eyes, taking a shaky breath.

Can I really do this? Offer my body to a demon?

But then I think of the captain, of the dark elves who destroyed everything I loved. My hatred burns hotter than any shame or fear.

When I open my eyes again, they're filled with determination. "Do it," I say, my voice steady. "Make me yours."