Page 38 of Her Demon Daddy
I’ve been counting the meals the guards have brought to me. They’re minuscule and taste like bland mush, but they’ve given me an unlikely way to tell the time. As far as I can tell from my meals, the trial is tomorrow. Looking up at the concrete ceiling of my cell, I sigh and sit back down on the cold floor.
Looking at the other solid wall of my cell is the only peaceful place my eyes can rest. If I look straight ahead, I see three trolvors locked in their cells, scowling at me. To my right, there are five of them. I’ve even made a game of seeing which one looks like they despise me the most. I didn’t ever think I would be the most hated criminal in Ikoth, but here I am.
On the bright side, they haven’t said anything to me. The guards barely speak to me either. I figure they know the worst punishments I could have are silence, isolation, and being cast out from society, the things I tried to avoid when I traveled through Oltyx’s portal. The lonely years alone in Galmoleth couldn’t have prepared me for this, though. Isolation is much worse when you’re in a crowded room of beings and still unaccepted. I would take my lonely planet over this any day.
What I really want is Siara. I rub my face with my hands and rest my chin on them as I look at the ground and close my eyes. I’ve written a thousand apologies to her in my mind and doubt any of them would be good enough to make her forgive me. I can’tmakeher do anything, but I wish I could at least try to redeem myself somehow. I also know that she deserves better than me, someone who’s honest and forthcoming, someone who isn’t ashamed of their actions and has to hide under a cloak to disguise himself from others. It’s selfish of me to want her, disrespectful, even.
What’s truly disrespectful is the thought of Vag’thimon taking her for himself. The comment the demon made could have been false, trying to cause me more pain, but I can’t help but feel he might not be entirely wrong. Vag’thimon isn’t purely evil. I know that in my core, but he is a massive prick and would love nothing more than to spite me right now. I did this to myself, falling in love.
I pause my thoughts and frown as I look at the floor. Love? Do I love her? I look at the ceiling confusedly, not caring that the trolvor are probably staring at me intensely. I’ve never thought much of the definition of love, and I’ve never really felt it for or from anyone before. The closest I got was appreciation from my battalion when I had led them in past battles. Demons don’t love. we fight and manipulate. I don’t even know if it’s in our genes to express the fabled emotion.
Only when I think of her do I feel a deep warmth in my chest, and a pulling in my core, like my body is being catapulted toward her. It has to be love. She’s all I can think about aside from the trial, and even that pales in comparison to the number of thoughts about her swarming in my mind. Thinking of Vag’thimon touching her, laughing with her, and holding her at night makes me clench my jaw and ball my fists so hard I swear the skin on my knuckles is about to rip off.
On the other hand, the thought has crossed my mind that it would be better for her to be taken care of by someone else than dragged down with me. Even if I get executed, I won’t be able to forgive myself in the afterlife for what I’ve done to her.
The dungeon door slams open, and I flinch. I try to look past the concrete walls of my cell but see no movement. It’s probably another low-life demon being brought in for a petty crime. As I look at the floor again and sigh, a shadow crosses my cell. I look up, and my eyes widen, and my mouth drops.
Siara is standing in front of the bars of my cage, with Vag’thimon towering behind her. They’re flanked by other trolvors, and I stand up quickly to get a better look at her. My heart breaks like the string holding her and me together has been burned from the middle. The flame from the metaphorical fire has reached my heart, and it’s scorching. It must be true, Vag’thimon has taken her, and she seems to be beside him willingly based on the look she’s giving me.
The closer I walk to the bars, and the more I study her face, I realize I can’t fully read her expression. This is a look on her I haven’t seen before. I’m shocked that she isn’t looking at me with utter disgust and judgment.
“Asmodeus,” Vag’thimon says with a stoic tone.
I glance at him briefly. He looks the same as he did when I left, only his hair has grown more. He still has an arrogant air about him and stands like he’s entitled to everything he has now. Unfortunately, he is entitled to it, but it would be great to rip it all away from him and see his ego diminish just a little bit.
I look back at Siara. She looks different, well-rested, and clean. The color has returned to her face since the last time I saw her when she looked like a ghost. That memory of her has played over in my mind more times than her name. I’ll never forget the look she had that day.
Vag’thimon rolls his eyes at my silence and bends down, pushing Siara’s hair behind her shoulder. I bristle and exhale deeply as I bite my tongue. I want to rip his fucking head off, and a part of me is also angry that she isn’t stopping him from touching her. I know she’s his captive, and there’s nothing she can do, but if she began as my captive and we got to the emotional depth we did, would she do the same with him?
He whispers something in her ear, and she leans into him, trying to hear him better. Either that, or she likes his hot breath on her ear. I’m fucking shattered. Vag’thimon makes it worse by running his long fingers up and down her arm softly. I see her glance at his hand quickly before looking away, and I can’t tell what that look means. I’m trying to decipher every second of this interaction. I want to know what he’s done with her, but also, a part of me hopes I never know.
I can’t convince myself otherwise. It's true. He’s taken her for his own. She’s not mine anymore. then again, maybe she never was. I know once the quake happened, I lost her. I never thought I would, which is what makes this pain more brutal than anything I’ve experienced before.
Vag’thimon looks at me as he raises his head from Siara’s ear and withdraws his fingers from her arm. He nods at the trolvor surrounding them, and they leave the dungeon without another word. I look at Siara, fumbling for the apologies I composed in my mind. They’re all forgotten now. As I look at her, I have no words.
She crosses her arms and looks at me firmly. “Why?”
She’s furious. She has every right to be. I hang my head and look at the floor, asking myself the same question. The only answer I have for her is that I was stupid and power-hungry, and I couldn’t bear losing her once I discovered how special she is. I open my mouth, and I’m about to say those words, but my pride kicks in, and I shut down.
“Come on! Why?” she exclaims as she hits the bars of my cage.
The clanking shatters my pride. “It began when I was a child!” I spit out, my eyes widening and my brow furrowing after hearing myself speak the words.
I look at her and see a slight bit of empathy in her gaze. I stutter and rub my hands over my head as I start pacing in my cell.
“My mother wasn’t there. She was absent at best,” I chuckle. “Cruel and violent when she was at her worst. I only knew my father was good atonething,” I shout, my emotions pouring out through my words. “Leaving. That’s all he did.. He was never fucking there for us! Between an absent-minded mother and an absent father, I was always out of control as a kid! How could I not be? Who was supervising me? No one. I was.”
I sigh and look at her before biting my tongue and looking at the wall. I can’t face her when I say this. “The things making this life worth living were the other demons I met, the ones who embraced culture and tradition. It was the only constant I could fucking cling to, besides…” I motion to the dungeon door apathetically.
“Vag’thimon, who always had everything. Imagine growing up, and the only person you know is the one that has everything you covet. He was his parent’s pride and joy, the baby boy of the family. He was set to inherit everything while I went home every night to a silent, dark house and tucked myself into bed. That would make anyone insane, Siara!”
I lower my voice. I’m not mad at her. I’m furious with myself. “One day, I was in our gardens in the back of our mansion, walking among the dead roses my insane mother forgot to fucking water. I mean, it’s Ikoth. there’s no fucking rain here!” I sigh and rub the bridge of my nose, trying to stay on topic.
“I decided I wanted nothing more than to be a part of them, the ones who I looked up to. More than that, I wanted toleadthem, be their constant, becauseI knowwhat it feels like to not fucking have anything consistent in my life, becausenow…” I motion to the dungeon door. “Not even Vag’thimon is a constant! No one is!”
I hold my arms out to the side and breathe heavily as I try to calm myself down. I meet Siara’s gaze, and her eyes look softer. She’s uncrossed her arms and places her hands on the bars gently as she peers through them at me. She sighs and closes her eyes before looking at me again with sorrow.
“That’s not what I meant,” she says gently.