3. Valek

valek

. . .

I know I will regret this, but I promised my brother I would give this place a chance before declaring myself unfit for solace and relaxation. At first glance, it seems pleasant enough, but the hand-carved wood chimes that greet my entrance into the Sorcery an old man collapsed in the street, ignored by passersby as if he were no more significant than the trash he lay beside.

Inhale. Exhale.

Why can't I cleanse my mind of these scenes as easily as I breathe? Why do they hover like gnats? I have seen darkness before—have dealt it with my own hands—but there was something relentless, something particularly insidious about the desperation etched onto the faces of the unloved and discarded.

Why should a demon care? What do I know about love except that it's what humans desire and need. The helpless cannot survive without kindness and care, but those are the ones often ignored. Fifty years of witnessing the careless nature of those wicked creatures who deem themselves worthy of heavenly redemption wore me down and robbed me of what little pleasure I gained from buying souls. A job I previously loved became unbearable.

I shift on the rug, feeling its scratch against my ankles. My fingers tense into fists, then relax again. The discipline required for this simple act of meditation seems beyond me now. Turning off my brain long enough to let it float away is impossible.

A loud thud from somewhere nearby startles me back to full awareness. My eyes snap open, my heart hammering against my rib cage as though fighting to escape. Even here, in what should be a sanctuary, I cannot find peace. The walls seem to lean in closer, suffocating. I need space.

I rise from the rug with a new resolve, smoothing out some of the wrinkles of frustration and rage within me. If peace doesn't come to me here, I may seek it elsewhere—perhaps even forge it from this chaos myself. A walk in nature might do me well.

With one last deep breath steadier than the ones before, I tread farther into this temple of tranquility—my footsteps muffled by plush, earth-toned carpets. There must be an exit nearby. The thought of returning to the chipper receptionist makes me cringe. Surely, a demon can sniff his way out of this maze they call a spa.

As I prowl through the halls, wandering aimlessly past creatures who are obviously much happier to be here than me, my senses are suddenly snared by an unfamiliar scent. It's sweeter, pure, and utterly intoxicating. My steps are slow, a primal instinct urging caution, yet my curiosity propels me forward. The scent strengthens, weaving vividly through the air like a melody that tugs at the core of my being.

Ahead, through a break in the crowd, I spot her, the female who now owns my heart. Even from this distance, she is unmistakably distinct. Her hair cascades like a waterfall of moonlight, stark against her dark dress. My heart, an organ I thought long dead, sparks with emotion and stirs with a peculiar ache.

She is not alone. Another figure stands beside her—a demon of lesser rank—whom she assists with an incantation, his aura brightening the longer she chants. The female's hands move with grace and precision, her focus entirely on her task. But the sight strikes an unexpected discord in my chest, a raw slash of jealousy that surprises me with its intensity.

Who is this demon who commands her attention when every fiber of my being screams for it to be mine? The realization that she is my fated mate sears through me like wildfire. I've heard tales of such connections my entire life—a powerful and rare alignment of souls destined to find each other across lifetimes and landscapes. But I've never believed it. Even when my brother swore it was real, I doubted his conclusions. Now faced with reality, I find it both exhilarating and torturous. There are no guarantees she will accept me. How will I survive if she doesn't?

As I step closer, the female's head lifts and her piercing blue eyes scan the room, perhaps searching for my scent. In that fraction of a moment, our gazes lock, and a myriad of unspoken words pass between us. There's recognition, but it's overshadowed by an intense pull that draws us inexorably together. Time suspends, and the world blurs at its edges, leaving only her, clear in my sight.

Slowly, I step out from the shadows into the light. Every instinct tells me this moment is pivotal—not just for me, but for both our intertwined destinies. Whatever comes next must be approached with care. Fate has brought us together, but where we go from here remains uncertain.

And yet one truth rings clear amidst all else: this female belongs by my side.