Chapter Twenty One pt 6

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Past the stairs was a long underground hallway where the four picked up speed. As they reached another pair of stairs and a door, they were led into the closet of another demon's house. Through the rattling in the closet, a stranger voiced, "What the fuck?" before opening it to the four. And there they met.

Him and her.

Her and him.

Drokn and the very very exhausted, hungover, barely standing muscular demoness he had drank with the night before.

"I wasn't aware of a fuckin' party," Lahzo whined with a deep, scratchy voice— a consequence of all the loud-mouthing and cheering the night before. She looked at Drokn, who she vaguely remembered as her memory tried to catch up. "Ya' seem energetic, fucking bastard," she joked, envious at the lack of dark circles under his eyes. "Well? What happened?"

"Guards. We're trying to hide from them," responded Vrona, ducking as she left the closet and stepped into the room.

"The fuck ya' do to get the guards up yer ass?"

Vrona and K'ra looked at one another and shared soundless words. Looking back to the other demoness, Vrona curved her lip. "I'm the former queen. On the run."

Lahzo stared with white eyes, her irises barely visible, until she plopped down on the bed behind her, taking her hands and sliding the full of them past her eyes and down her cheeks. "I'm too hungover for this."

But she was not allowed to wallow in her post-drunken state for much longer.

Bang!

The front door to Lahzo's home broke open, uninvited. "Ah shit," the muscular demoness spit before slapping herself sober on both cheeks. Rushing to a nearby drawer, she pulled out studded gloves and dawned them on. At the same time, K'ra closed the entrance inside the closet and loosened a latch on ceiling, opening up a square entrance —or exit— and bringing down a rope ladder.

K'ra turned to Drokn and Eial and hugged the two together warmly, as if a farewell. The warmth felt so strange to Drokn. His heart swelled and he frowned, feeling a mistiness against his eyes.

Just then, with another Bang, the door to the room they were in broke. "Hand her over!" a guard yelled, observing the group.

"Go up there!" Lahzo yelled to the others, pointing her head to the ladder while holding fists out in defense.

Always running, Drokn hated this humiliation. He'd been training specifically for this. He wanted to get stronger, he was stronger. But what use was it to be strong when you couldn't put it into use? What was the use if he was constantly protected as if unable to do anything else? "I'm staying and fighting," Drokn grated, standing tall and presenting his authority with a sphere of dark magic in his palm.

"I appreciate yer enthusiasm, kid," Lahzo laughed, "but this place is too cramped fer all of us to be fighting. You'll all get in the way. And I won't forgive you if you mess up my furniture."

Amused, defeated, irritated, rushed, Drokn clenched his teeth and made tight fists. At this point, Eial had already went up the ladder and used tiny spheres of air magic to subtly poke Drokn. Glancing up and seeing the hurried expression on Eial, Drokn took a deep breath and tamed the heat boiling in him. "Lahzo," Drokn addressed, a grip on the ladder. "I meant what I said last night."

"Huh?" the muscular demoness was too focused on the guards in front who stood in a stalemate to try and recall their blubbery conversation in her hazed memories.

"I am Prince Drokn of the demon lands," the demon announced with a smirk when Lahzo quickly glanced over. "Let my name spread because I will fulfill the promise I made. And I will be the one to treat you at the tavern next time, as king."

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