Page 11 of Demon's Cruel Desire
"Live with them?" I snap, my voice laced with venom and pain. "They claw at me, every fucking day, tearing me apart from the inside! There's no living with this. There's only enduring, only surviving what I've become because of them!" My words come out as a growl, the trauma manifesting as raw, unbridled fury.
But she just listens, her eyes calm and infinitely sad, yet without condemnation. Her quiet acceptance soothes an ache in me I didn't even realize was there until her unspoken forgiveness begins to fill it.
You’re not recoiling in fear?” I ask her, angered that she’s listened unflinchingly to me detail the horrors of my past.
“No, I’m not,” she answers evenly, yet there’s still an undertone of defiance as she shakes her head.
"Why?" I finally ask, my voice hoarse, almost afraid to hear her answer.
"Because pain recognizes pain, Dagon," she replies softly, her gaze steady. "You’re not the only one with horrors. Not the only one who’s done things... regrettable things. We all have our battles, our shit to face."
Her words, simple yet profound, envelop the raw edges of my soul. At that moment, I realize that Callista's strength lies not in overlooking the horrors of my past, but in acknowledging them and seeing beyond them to who I could still become.
The silence hangs heavy between us after Callista's words. The kitchen, dimly lit by the flickering flame of a lone candle, feels like a confessional.
"Why don't you fucking fear me?" I push harder, my voice a low tortured growl. I need to understand, need to see the crack in her armor.
She meets my gaze squarely, unflinching. "Fear you?" Her voice is steady, but there's a tremor of emotion that betrays her calm exterior. "Dagon, fear is a luxury I can't afford. You think I haven't seen what horrors the world holds? I've seen enough to know that fear doesn't keep you safe."
Her defiance stirs something within me, a mix of admiration and frustration. I clench my fists, feeling the old urge to smash something beautiful just to witness the breaking. But I resist, focusing instead on her words, her courage.
"You're not the monster you think you are,” she says quietly. There’s something about the way she says it, as if she thinks she truly sees me, not the me who threatens her and chokes her, but the me behind the fucking rage.
Her words slice through the thick air, sharp and unexpected. I want to laugh, to roar in her face that she's fucking wrong, that I am exactly the monster I seem to be. But the sincerity in her eyes stops me.
"What if I am?" I challenge, my voice barely above a whisper. "What if I can't be anything else?"
Callista steps closer, her presence bold and unyielded. "Then we're all damned anyway.”
11
CALLISTA
Ican’t remember anymore when my days here began. At first, they were long and arduous, but as time escapes me, Dagon and I fall into familiar ways. I won’t call it a routine, not yet, it’s still too new. But since that night in his kitchen, Dagon has been a new demon around me.
Gentler? No, never. And the longer I’m here the less I care when his hands reach for my neck. But there has been a shift, imperceptible to anyone but me. Tagar still looms in and out, his regular disruption the only wrinkle in our day.
Even now, Dagon and I lounge near the fountain in his courtyard, wondering how long it will take Tagar to seek us out. We’ve taken the cool evening air and sound of rushing waters together for a few days.
Despite his gruff exterior, I can't deny the visceral pull I feel towards Dagon's chiseled features and sinewy physique. Those smoldering crimson eyes and rugged angles stir an undeniable longing within me. Days turn into weeks, yet every time my eyes meet his body, I feel like I’m seeing him in a new light, or exploring a side of him heretofore obscured from me.
He seems less tense, the huge muscles in his neck relaxing as he sits back in his chair and looks calmly over at me. Naturally, we hear a voice, breaking the growing peace budding between us.
“Where are you two?”
I can feel the shift in the air the moment Tagar swaggers into the courtyard, his lips curled in a sneer. Dagon immediately tenses beside me, the warm camaraderie we've been sharing evaporating like mist.
Dagon's whole demeanor shutters closed as Tagar approaches, his eyes hardening to flinty stones. It's like watching a transformation - the gentle soul I've come to know retreating behind an impenetrable wall of thorns.
"Brother," Tagar greets with a mocking nod. "I thought I'd pay another visit to your… quaint accommodations."
His piercing obsidian gaze cuts over to me, pure disdain etched into those harsh features. I bristle, lifting my chin defiantly. After all we've been through, I won't let this brute intimidate me now.
"Callista was just leaving," Dagon growls, his voice lower and more gravelly than I've heard it in weeks.
A protectiveness flares up in me, irrational as it may be. I will not be dismissed like some obedient ur’gin pup. Not after the bond Dagon and I have forged.
"Actually, I'm staying right here," I declare, staring straight into those crimson eyes I've come to cherish. Dagon's jaw tightens, but I can see the faintest crack in his stony facade. Good. I want to draw out that part of him again, the true Dagon I've grown so attached to.