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“You’ve gone quiet,” Drago commented, shifting the sticks into one hand so he could touch her cheek. “Are you all right?”
Genna wanted to shout that of course she was not all right, but she took a deep breath instead. “It all sound so absolute. Be chosen or die. Submit or die. Serve or die.”
He chuckled. “He is a Demon, love. His will is all that matters to him.”
“Is there no way out?” She asked the question aloud, letting her doubts and fears take hold.
Drago took her gently and drew her to his chest. He cradled her in the crook of his arm while watching the fire sear their dinner.
“You knew there was no way out when you prepared yourself to go with me that night,” he said, his voice achingly gentle.
“I thought I was saving my people,” she said.
“Your sacrifice only opens them up to his influence,” he argued. “Of course you didn’t know that then but you know it now.”
“He cheated.” She knew she sounded childish, but didn’t care.
“It’s his way. The Demon is ever treacherous. Nothing he says can be trusted.”
“Then what binds him? It’s certainly not his code of honor.”
Drago shifted so he could better turn the meat, as it was getting darker on one side. “Every creature, good or evil, is bound by universal laws. He cannot attack your City while the Barrier is intact. He cannot defy his purpose.”
She drew back to look at him. “Defy his purpose?”
“Choose good, for instance. Not that it’s ever been an issue.” He nudged her head back down to his chest. “He is also bound by his rules. He must consume a chosen bride’s soul in order to remain strong. If he does not, then it weakens him. A weak demon is a vulnerable one. He would lose dominion over his followers.”
“And the wrong maiden can bring about his destruction? I don’t understand how.”
“I don’t, either,” he admitted. “A single maiden, if you’ll forgive my bluntness, hardly seems powerful enough to destroy a demon—any demon.”
Genna nodded her agreement. “It’s all so confusing, yet I have to believe there’s a way to destroy him. There’s a way to be free of him.”
“There is no way, Aisilyn. It is hopeless. Let us just be glad for the time we have together, however brief.”
She let his words sink in without replying. She mulled them over in her mind while they ate their fresh meat and the two apples Drago pulled from his pack. She considered them while she said a small prayer in her mind.
She did not believe them. “No.”
They were relaxing after their meal, Drago on his back supported by his elbow. Genna rested her head on his chest as she stared up at the twinkling stars.
“No?” he questioned.
She sat up so she could look at him. “I don’t believe we only have these days together. I won’t accept that. There must be a way for you and me to have a future.”
He sat up as well, his expression in the firelight looking all the more serious. “It will only be worse for you if you don’t accept this. It is fact, Aisilyn.”
Genna pulled away from his outstretched hand. “No.” She did not yell, nor did she whisper. Her voice was steady, adamant.
Drago let out a low growl of frustration. “You need to listen to me, trust me on this.”
“I need to trust God.”
He laughed at that. “What has your God done for you? Did He protect you from the Demon’s summons? Did He stop me from taking you? Why would you trust Him now?”
Genna turned back to him. “That’s what faith is, Drago.”
“Faith is for fools,” he scoffed. “You need to be sensible. Your future has been determined. Don’t let stubbornness ruin your present. What we have now is a gift. Don’t squander it.”
She put a hand on his cheek, he caught her wrist. “I’m not squandering our love, but I do believe we have a chance for a future. We just need to take it.”
“This is your fear talking,” he told her. “The closer we get to the lair, the more you come to realize that you’re about to die. It’s understandable. You can be afraid, love. Just don’t cloud the issue with talk of faith and gods.”
“There is only one God, and I’ve already told you, I am not afraid.”
He thrust her hand away from him. “Then I can’t reason with you. I only want to make you understand, because with understanding comes acceptance.”
Genna did give voice to her anger then. “I am not a lamb to be led to slaughter! I am a Daughter of Light, and I refuse to be treated as anything less.”
Drago rolled away and got to his feet in one fluid motion. Without another word to her, he stalked away into the darkness.
Genna watched him go as long as the firelight allowed, which wasn’t long. All too soon he’d been swallowed by the night.
***
Drago stormed away, but not so far as to be out of earshot—or unable to see the fire. He could barely discern her outline. She hadn’t come after him, which he preferred. He didn’t need to try chasing her down in the dark.
How could one woman be so stubborn and foolish? How could she claim she was not afraid? He’d seen many maidens take their place at his Master’s feet, and each of them wore an identical expression of terror.
Yet as he considered the last several days, he realized Aisilyn hadn’t expressed fear since before they stopped at the oasis. She’d been afraid of attack, certainly, but not of the Demon. Not of her fate.
She must be mad, he decided, though she didn’t act mad. Unless her newly expressed love for him was a form of madness.
Why did she refuse to accept her fate? Everyone had a part to play, even him, and it was not to be her rescuer. He was like an executioner, delivering her to the gallows. She was a woman condemned.
Drago turned his eyes to the stars. He’d come from a family of believers, too, just as she had. He’d prayed with them, defended scripture from doubters, and even planned to share their faith with others. Until the Demon came and destroyed his future, and later, his village. Their God hadn’t helped them. Hadn’t helped him.
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. In all honesty, he wanted to be Aisilyn’s rescuer. If he stopped imagining the repercussions and just admitted the truth, he wanted what she wanted—a life together, a future.
But was he willing to risk his life—and hers—for that slim chance?
For just a moment, Drago let down the barrier shielding his heart. He imagined taking Aisilyn to be his wife, raising sons and daughters with her. Sharing the joys and sorrows that he’d watched his parents experience.
Then he imagined meeting her family, her friends, and the shields flew up again. He’d done unspeakable things as the Demon’s right hand—all under threat of death or damnation. Even though it chipped away at his soul, he did them. Because he was a coward, deep down. Because he feared what the Demon would do to him if he refused.
Only now the Demon threatened Aisilyn, the woman he loved. Was he strong enough to stand up for her? Could he save her? Would the effort be worth the price when he failed?
Drago’s thoughts so distracted him, he didn’t feel the cloak of his hood slide up—but the Demon’s voice in his head chilled him. He sounded so amused.
Contemplating betrayal, eh? You know that never ends well.
I am not, Master.
Don’t lie to me. That woman has turned your head. You would be wise to ensure your neck doesn’t get snapped in the process.
The warning he’d expected. I will not betray you.
Still, she must be quite intriguing. You have been my most trusted servant yet. Your response to her makes me desire her soul that much more.
Drago’s gut twisted painfully at the thought.
Don’t like that, do you? The Demon was back to sounding amused. You would do well to remember who wields the power here, Warrior. Bring her to me, or die. Attempt to betray me, and die. You cannot hope to stand against me.
I know, Master.
See that you don’t forget.
Drago pulled the hood off and ran a hand through his hair. It was hopeless. The Demon would have his way with or without Drago’s assistance. Even now, all he had to do was call out his minions and take Aisilyn to his lair. Drago had to wonder why he continued to let him bring her.
A test, perhaps? It wasn’t as if Drago’s loyalty hadn’t been tested before. His Master liked to toy with his servants. It made Hell less mundane.
Or his Master could be waging a war he knew nothing about. That happened more often than not. Demons don’t actually share their plans with their underlings. They preferred the image of total domination—whether or not it was an accurate one.
Drago suddenly felt foolish alone in the dark. He glanced over at the campsite, but could not see Aisilyn’s form near the fire. Perhaps she’d gone to sleep. He’d rather that than try talking to her any more tonight.
Lagos nickered at him when he entered the area, so he brushed a finger down the unicorn’s velvety nose. In his darkest times, Lagos seemed like a friend. Like now.
She was asleep. Relieved, Drago dropped to his bedroll and relaxed—at least as much as was possible. He stared up at the stars and listened to the sounds of the night.
It happened so fast. One moment all was darkness, then Aisilyn screamed. Drago tried to stand but he was held fast by something—black vines that twined around his arms and legs. She screamed again and he saw the fire.
“Help me, Drago!” she said, clawing at the dirt between them.
He pulled with all his might, but could not free his arm from the vines to reach for her. “Aisilyn!” he shouted.
“Help me,” she cried. “It’s burning.”
He could see the flames licking at her legs, singeing the skirt of her gown and climbing upward. She started to scream again, this time in agony as the flames danced across her flesh, burning an unforgiving trail as they went.
Drago bucked and pulled against his restraints but he couldn’t budge an inch closer to her. Her screams tormented his ears, making them ache. He yelled her name, helpless to prevent her from being swallowed up by the fire.
It took her, consuming all but her face for the longest, heart-wrenching moment. Her eyes bore into him, begging him for help. He did nothing. He could do nothing.
As the last of her screams died away, the fire dissipated. The vines released him, and he crawled to where she’d last been. The dirt between his fingers still smelled of her. A drop splashed on his hand, mixing with the dirt. Drago looked up before he realized it was his own tear. The howl grew in his gut until it erupted from his throat and echoed all around.
The noise woke him. Drago sat up, his heart pounding relentlessly. He looked first toward Aisilyn, and the relief that washed over him upon seeing her sleeping peacefully took his breath away.
He put a hand on his pounding chest. Nothing he’d felt before, no wound received or heartache doled out, compared to the feeling from his nightmare when he thought she was dead. He drew a shaky breath and crawled to where she lay.
She barely murmured as he drew her into his arms, the need to hold her so urgent it was almost violent. Like a trusting kitten she snuggled into his chest and let out a deep, contented sigh. If he could’ve laughed he would have, but the dream still had a choke hold on his heart.
Slowly, his breathing eased as he listened to the even sounds of her breaths. Drago could not sleep, but instead stayed awake to watch the first rays of light play on the mountains around them. His mind raced with scenarios, all of which made him feel utterly helpless.
He couldn’t let her go. He couldn’t run away with her. He couldn’t destroy the Demon for her. He couldn’t watch her die.
A great shudder went through him at that last thought, and Aisilyn stirred in his arms.
“I will protect you,” he whispered to her sleeping face. “Somehow, I will protect you.”