6. Selena

6

SELENA

T he demon's grip on me tightens as we ascend higher around the mountain palace. The force of the wind stings my eyes. I struggle, but it is futile against his inhuman strength.

"Let me go, you bastard!"

No response. Just the steadiness of his hands commanding the winds.

We crest a ridge and my breath catches. A palace of crystalline spires stretches before us, gleaming in the fading sunlight. Impossible structures of glass and stone defy gravity, suspended in mid-air.

"What is this place?" The words slip out before I can stop them.

"My home," Zephyr grunts, descending towards an open balcony.

My feet touch smooth marble. I stumble, legs weak from the flight. Zephyr steadies me with a firm hand on my shoulder.

"You had no right to bring me here," I said, glaring at him as I jerk my shoulder away.

"You're welcome for saving your life." He strides past me into a vast chamber.

Curiosity wars with anger as I take in my surroundings. Gossamer curtains billow in a phantom breeze. Intricate mosaics cover the walls and ceiling, depicting battle scenes, and other mosaics of a beautiful landscape with demons that look…happy. Without thinking, I reach my bound hands out to touch the beautiful art but immediately retract myself.

Other mosaics depict scenes that I can't begin to comprehend. One in particular almost looks like a family tree of sorts. I look closer and one of the portraits resembles Zephyr. I turn to him out of curiosity, but he turns away. Was that a look of shame on his face? Or sadness?

I shake it off and wander further down the hallway of mosaics out of curiosity and to figure out a way out of this palace. Zephyr follows close behind, admiring my curiosity as my eyes scan around the hallways of mosaics and paintings. I peek into another chamber displaying a massive black framed bed with dark violet blankets and curtains with shades of black with violet hues. A tall bookshelf stands in the left corner of the room with a long couch beside it. Across from the bookshelf is a fireplace that must have been lit recently because I can still smell the smoked wood.

The windows stand twice the size of Zephyr, mirroring gray clouds as the tree leaves blow against the window panes, signaling the incoming storm. This must be his room. I back up blushing then scurry back down the hallway towards the palace's main hall where Zephyr is standing, waiting as he studies my face.

This place is beautiful. Ethereal. Nothing like the crude demon lairs I've encountered before.

"This isn't what I expected," I mutter as my curious eyes continue to scan around the open space of the palace.

Zephyr turns, a wry smile on his face. "And what did you expect? Blood and bones? Writhing pits of tortured souls?"

I blush, caught out. "Something like that."

He gestures around the room. "Sorry to disappoint."

I hate that this place impresses me and that a small part of me is glad he brought me here. This demon saves my life and shows me wonders I never could imagine. But he's still the enemy who took me against my will.

"Why am I here?" I demand.

Zephyr's eyes meet mine, swirling with colors I can't name. "Because you fascinate me, little hunter. And I think, despite your best efforts, I fascinate you too."

The wind howls outside, rattling the windows of Zephyr's palace. I glare at my captor, my hands still bound. He steps closer to me.

"Behave, and I'll unbind you," Zephyr says, his voice deep and commanding.

I clench my jaw. "I'm not your pet."

His eyes flash, shifting from stormy gray to electric blue. "No, you're my guest. An ungrateful one."

"Guest?" I scoff. "You kidnapped me!"

"I saved your life." He moves closer, towering over me. The scent of pine with a hint of sweet rain fills my nostrils. "That storm would have killed you."

I crane my neck to meet his gaze, refusing to be intimidated. "I can take care of myself."

"Clearly." His tone drips with sarcasm. He reaches one of his upper hands towards my wrists, and I tense. But his touch is surprisingly gentle as he runs his fingers around my wrists to remove the air-shaped bindings.

"There's a bath through that door. Clean yourself up," he says, turning away from me.

I rub my wrists, eyeing the ornate door he indicated. "And if I refuse?"

He stops, slightly turning back to me. "Then enjoy smelling like blood and wet dog." He shrugs. "Your choice."

Curiosity wins out over stubbornness. I push open the door and gasp. The bathroom is larger than my entire tent, with gleaming marble floors and a sunken tub big enough to swim in.

"Holy shit," I mutter.

"Everything to your satisfaction?" Zephyr's amused voice comes from behind me.

I whirl around. "Do you mind?"

He raises an eyebrow. "It's my palace."

"And I'm your 'guest,' remember? Give me some privacy."

His eyes shimmer to a golden hue and for a moment, I think he'll refuse. But then he nods, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "As you wish. There are fresh clothes in the wardrobe. Try not to drown."

The door closes behind him, and I'm left alone in this ridiculous bathroom. I run the bath water while I strip off my mud-caked, blood-stained clothes. After testing the water temperature, I sink into the steaming water, groaning as it soothes my aching muscles.

Despite myself, I relax. The warm water and fragrant soap work their magic, washing away days of grime and tension.

I climb out, wrapping myself in a soft towel.

Outside, the storm rages on. There's no escaping this place tonight. I let out a heavy sigh. I'm stuck here, with him whether I like it or not.

I rummage through the wardrobe, grumbling at the lack of practical options. Silks and gauzy fabrics in jewel tones fill the space. No leather, no armor, nothing I'd choose for myself. Sighing heavily, I settle on a deep green tunic and soft black leggings. At least they'll allow for quick movement if needed.

Dressed and somewhat refreshed, I step back into the main chamber. Zephyr lounges in a high-backed chair, long fingers tracing the rim of a goblet. His eyes flick to me, curiosity gleaming within them.

"Feel better?" he asks, voice low and rumbling.

I shrug, aiming for nonchalance. "Cleaner, at least."

He gestures to a chair across from him. "Sit. You must be hungry."

As if on cue, my stomach growls. I hesitate, then sink into the offered seat. A spread of fruits, bread, and meats covers the low table between us. My mouth waters despite my suspicion.

"It's not poisoned," Zephyr says, amusement coloring his tone. "If I wanted you dead, there are far more efficient methods."

I snort but reach for a piece of bread. "Comforting."

The silence stretches between us as I eat. Finally, curiosity gets the better of me.

"Why did you save that village?" I ask. "Aren't demons supposed to... I don't know, revel in destruction?"

Zephyr's eyes darken, shifting to a deep indigo. "Is that what they teach you about us?"

"I've seen it firsthand," I snap, the memory of my partner's death flashing through my mind.

He leans forward, four hands splaying on the arms of his chair. "And I've seen humans commit atrocities that would make even the cruelest demon blanch. Does that make all humans monsters?"

I open my mouth to argue, then close it. He has a point although I hate to admit it.

Zephyr sighs, the sound unexpectedly weary as his eyes fade into a grayish hue. "My kind... we're not so different from yours. We have a hierarchy of demon families like humans. I am a demon aristocrat if you must label it in human terms. Each demon has its own gift or ability. As you have seen, mine controls air and wind. Some demons have stronger abilities while others have none at all."

"The mosaic of the family tree earlier, is that of your family?" I ask.

He nods his head slowly. "It's my bloodline." He stops for a moment to take a sip from his goblet. I reach for another piece of bread and fruit.

I listen closely as he tells his story.

"We lived at one time peacefully. Of course, like humans, there are those who seek power through violence, yes. But there are also those of us who want peace."

"Is that why you're here? Alone?" I ask.

A flicker of pain crosses his face. He takes a deep breath before he explains, "I questioned the ways of my clan. Their practices were becoming barbaric. It went past obtaining land for colonization, it became a quest for power and bloodlust." His eyes shimmer to black. "The needless bloodshed. The innocent lives that were taken, humans and demons alike. I wanted no more of it. I wanted it to stop. I tried reasoning, even fighting against it. For that, I was exiled."

"So you're, what... a demon refugee?" I ask, my voice softer than I intended.

A wry smile tugs at his lips as his eyes return to a softer shade of blue. "Something like that."

I study Zephyr, really seeing him for the first time. The sadness in his eyes, the weariness in his posture. It resonates with me on a deep level. I've felt that same loneliness, that isolation, after losing my partner.

"I'm sorry," I murmur, the words slipping out before I can stop them. "About your exile, I mean."

He blinks, clearly surprised by my empathy. "It's... not your fault. I made my own choices."

"Still, it can't be easy." I reach for another piece of bread, suddenly ravenous. "Being alone, I mean."

Zephyr's gaze softens. "It has its challenges. But I've learned to find solace in the quiet."

I nod, understanding the sentiment all too well. There's a companionable silence as I continue eating, the tension from earlier slowly easing.

"You know, you're not at all what I expected," I admit, glancing up at him.

One of his hands lifts in a graceful shrug. "Preconceptions often blind us to the truth. I am no more a monster than you are."

I flinch at the word, memories of my partner's death surging forward. But Zephyr's expression remains calm, patient.

"I... I know that, rationally," I concede. "It's just hard to let go of what I've seen."

"Understandable." He leans back in his chair, his eyes studying me with an odd intensity. "But perhaps, in time, you might be willing to look beyond the surface."

I consider his words, feeling the familiar walls I've built start to crack. This isn't the ravaging demon I've been trained to hunt. This is a being, complex and flawed, just like any human.

The storm rages on outside, but here in this room, the energy in the air feels different. I'm no longer his prisoner, but his guest, and the distinction has become increasingly blurred. I find myself wanting to know more about this exiled demon, this Zephyr who defies every preconception I've held.