10. Dazirus

10

DAZIRUS

I feel the onlooking demons fall into a tense silence, my eyes never leaving Narina's bloodied hands.

"Sit," I command, gesturing to a bench nearby.

She hesitates, defiance flashing in her eyes. I suppress a smirk. Even battered and bleeding, she's got fire.

"It wasn't a request, little one,” I snarl.

Narina sinks into the chair, her gaze darting around the room. I crouch before her, gently taking her hands in mine. The sight of her wounds stirs something deep within me. Is this because of the contract? I expected to feel the bond, but not like this. Her pain tugs at me, an alien sensation that both intrigues and unsettles me.

I bring her hand to my lips, brushing a soft kiss against her torn flesh. My warm breath ghosts over her skin as I inhale her scent - blood, sweat, and something uniquely... her. My tongue darts out, tasting the metallic tang of her blood. A shiver runs through me as my saliva begins to heal her wounds.

"Stop," she murmurs, trying to pull away. Her voice is quiet, laced with discomfort. Whether it's from the intimacy of the act or the lingering presence of other demons, I can't tell.

I tighten my grip, just enough to keep her in place. My eyes lock onto hers, holding her gaze captive.

"You're hurt," I say simply, my voice low and smooth.

Something raw flickers in my chest as I stare into those emerald depths. Desire, yes - that's familiar enough. But there's something else, something deeper that I can't quite name. It both excites and terrifies me.

Narina’s discomfort is evident, but I can’t help but feel captivated by her. The way she fights, the strength she’s gained—it intrigues me.

When she finally pulls her hand away, there’s a brief moment of awkward tension. She looks around, clearly uncomfortable with the attention of the onlookers.

I decide to break the tension, grabbing her hand again, my grip firm but not forceful.

“Come,” I say, "walk with me."

She frowns, pulling back slightly.

“I don’t have time for a walk,” she says. “Save your dime store Lothario act for someone who gives a damn. I need to find my sister.”

I smile, feeling mischievous. Dime store lothario? Oh, my dear, you have yet to experience anything yet.

“You’ll find her soon enough,” I say. “But first, we walk.”

Narina hesitates for a moment, but eventually relents, her frustration simmering beneath the surface. She allows me to lead her through the hallways of the mansion.

“Where are we going?” she asks, her voice tight with impatience. “I’m getting tired of these games.”

“Somewhere more private,” I reply, my thumb brushing against her hand. Her skin is soft, a stark contrast to the rough calluses on my own. “You’ve got a lot to learn, little one. And I can’t have you whipping every dark elf you come across.”

She scoffs.

“They deserved it,” she says. “That, and a lot worse.”

“Maybe,” I concede, “but there’s a time and place for everything. You can’t just lash out whenever you feel like it.”

Narina falls silent, her brow furrowed in thought. I can see the wheels turning in her head, the struggle between her desire for revenge and the practicality of my words.

I lead Narina through the winding corridors of my mansion, feeling her tense presence beside me. The silence between us is thick with unspoken thoughts and barely contained impatience. I decide to break it, hoping to distract her from her single-minded focus.

"You know, life as a demon lord isn't as exotic as you might imagine," I begin, watching her reaction from the corner of my eye. "Endless meetings, tedious paperwork, backstabbing politics. It's enough to drive a demon mad."

Narina's eyes glaze over, clearly uninterested in the intricacies of demon bureaucracy. I can't blame her. It bores me to tears too.

"But that's not the worst of it," I continue, changing tack. "It's the suffocating expectations, the constant pressure to conform. Sometimes I feel like I'm trapped in a gilded cage."

At this, her eyes narrow, a flicker of interest crossing her face. I've struck a chord.

"Freedom's what I crave," I admit, surprising myself with my honesty. "To break free from these rigid structures, to explore beyond the boundaries set for us."

Narina's gaze meets mine, a spark of understanding passing between us. For a moment, I feel a connection, a shared longing for something more.

But it's fleeting. Her eyes soon cloud over again, her mind clearly drifting back to her sister and her quest for vengeance.

"Fascinating," she mutters, her tone flat and disinterested.

I can't help but smirk at her poor attempt at politeness. Her impatience is palpable, radiating off her in waves. Yet, I find myself oddly charmed by her directness, her unwavering focus.

"You're not much for the pleasures of conversation, are you?" I tease, hoping to draw her out.

"No," she replies curtly, her gaze fixed ahead. “Not with demons who are lusting after me.”

Her eyes widne, and sweat beads at her brow.

“My soul,” she blurts. “Lusting after my soul.”

I chuckle, both amused and intrigued by her faux pas. This human continues to surprise me at every turn.

I decide to change tactics, realizing that my attempts at small talk aren't getting me anywhere with Narina. Her sister seems to be the key to unlocking her, so I pivot our conversation in that direction.

"Tell me about your sister," I say, my voice softer than before. "What was she like?"

Narina's steps falter for a moment, her eyes widening slightly at the unexpected question. She hesitates, and I can see the internal struggle playing out on her face. Finally, she speaks, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Claudia... she was always so patient with me,” she says. A ghost of a smile touches her lips, and I find myself captivated by this rare display of vulnerability. "I remember this one time, when I was younger, she taught me how to braid flowers together to make a crown."

As Narina speaks, her eyes take on a distant look, as if she's reliving the memory. "We spent hours in this meadow near our village, picking wildflowers. Claudia showed me how to weave the stems together, her fingers moving so gracefully. I kept messing up, but she never got frustrated."

I watch her closely as she talks, noticing how her body relaxes slightly, how her voice takes on a softer quality. It's like she's shedding years of pain and hardship, if only for a moment.

"When we finished, she placed the crown on my head and called me her little forest princess." Narina's voice cracks slightly, and I resist the urge to reach out and comfort her. "I felt so... special. So loved."

As I listen to her story, a realization dawns on me. Narina isn't just searching for her sister; she's chasing after a piece of her lost innocence. She believes that finding Claudia will somehow restore the purity and simplicity of those moments from her childhood.

A pang of something unfamiliar - is it pity? - shoots through me. I know, with the certainty that comes from centuries of existence, that such a thing is impossible. Once innocence is lost, it can never truly be reclaimed. The Narina who wore that flower crown is gone, replaced by the fierce, vengeful woman walking beside me.

I watch Narina as she finishes her story, her eyes still distant, lost in memories of a simpler time. The longing in her voice is palpable, and it stirs something within me - a feeling I'm not quite sure how to name.

As a demon, I understand the thirst for vengeance all too well. It's a hunger that never truly abates, a fire that consumes everything in its path. I've seen it countless times over my centuries of existence, and I've felt it myself.

But I've also learned that revenge is a dish that never truly satisfies. The more you get, the more you want. It's an endless cycle, a bottomless pit that swallows everything whole and still demands more.

I think back to earlier, when Narina was whipping the dark elves. The fury in her eyes, the raw power in her strikes - it was intoxicating to watch. But even as she inflicted punishment on them, I could see it in her face: she wasn't satisfied. The vengeance she sought didn't quell the storm inside her; if anything, it only made it rage harder.

It's a bitter truth, one that I've come to accept over the years. But Narina... she's still so young, so raw. She hasn't learned this lesson yet, and part of me wonders if she ever will.

As I look at her now, I can't help but feel a twinge of... is it sadness? It's a foreign emotion for a demon like me, but I can't deny its presence. Because I know, with absolute certainty, that I can't help her find the part of herself that wants to wear a crown of flowers. That innocent, carefree girl is gone, consumed by the flames of vengeance and loss.

It's a pity, really. To see someone so young, so full of potential, trapped in this cycle of revenge. But who am I to judge? I'm a demon, after all. Corruption and darkness are my domain.

As we walk through the darkened manor, I stop and turn to face Narina. The moonlight casts eerie shadows across her face, accentuating the sharp angles of her cheekbones and the fire in her eyes. I'm struck again by how captivating she is, this human who's managed to surprise me at every turn.

"You're more than I expected, Narina," I say, my voice low and serious.

She frowns, clearly taken aback by my sudden change in tone. Her eyes narrow slightly, searching my face for any hint of mockery or deception. "What do you mean?"

I step closer, feeling the heat radiating from her body. The scent of her - a mix of blood, sweat, and something uniquely her - fills my nostrils. My eyes meet hers, and I can see the moonlight reflected in their depths.

"You'll see," I murmur, my words hanging in the air between us.