Lord of the Night

Chapter 55: Lifeforce

I was halfway to Isalio before realizing I had moved, but then I fell forward, hands slipping on the cold, wet stone. Before my eyes, Isalio transformed. In a mere second, the sweet Demon I knew was replaced by the monster who had murdered my family. The monster who had murdered Andradkut's family.

He stared down the teen now, claws bared, fangs dripping, and moth-like wings stretched wide. Crooked wings, bent this way and that, black feathers sticking out in all the wrong directions. In the middle of his wings, the mace still protruded from his back.

He raised a claw.

My yell shredded my throat. "Isalio, stop!"

I was still furious at Andradkut, and terrified to find out how badly Isalio was hurt, but I knew if this Demon killed this boy, it was all over. My team would never trust Isalio. Isalio would never trust himself.

And the Demons would crush us all.

Isalio's claw met Andradkut's shoulder—but didn't sink in. Instead, he shoved the boy to the side. That was when I noticed the Scout behind Andradkut, which had been a millisecond away from planting its fangs into the boy's leg.

Now it found Isalio's thigh instead, venomous teeth sinking deep.

Isalio's wings slithered back into his body, and his fangs and claws retracted. He thumped the ground, lying as still as the dead Guardian twenty feet away. Andradkut stared in horror at the puddling Scout beside him and the dying Demon who had just saved him.

But the High Prince couldn't die so easily, could he? No, not the High Prince—my entire being rejected that label. This was Isalio. My irritating, confounding, injured Demon. My Isa.

Mine.

I found myself at his feet, and though I didn't remember finding the key, the next thing I knew, I had ripped the cuff off his wrist.

"Come back to me," I demanded of the cold, lifeless hand in my grip. "Isa, take me. Please."

For a few dreadful seconds, nothing happened. Then claws sank through my skin.

This time, the pain filled me with relief. If he was alive enough to puncture my skin, he could take my lifeforce. And if he could take my lifeforce, he would live.

But if he killed me, what then? The Guardians would never accept him after that. Would he still fight the Demons? Or would he submit to them once more?

If I can't save you, I'm not saving anyone.

My nerve endings lit up, and otherworldly colors painted my vision: delicious, horrifying, addictive. All worries washed away in a glorious rush. No more tension, no more pain, no more...

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! Remgar, stay with me! Rem?"

A new river flooded me, just as terrifying and stunning but fundamentally different—the flow had reversed. My vision swung back into focus, a surge of raw energy inflated my chest, and a thousand invisible needles pricked my injured shoulder.

Isalio's claws slipped away, transforming into slim, pale fingers once more. Still, power surged through me, demanding release. Had I taken too much lifeforce? I grabbed his hand, urging him to take some back. His eyes were closed, but when I felt for his pulse, a steady beat thrummed beneath my thumb, and his chest rose and fell with quick breaths. And even with my hand on his uncuffed wrist, he wouldn't take back any lifeforce.

"Isa?"

Without opening his eyes, he whispered, "Fight, Rem. You need to fight."

I itched to carry him away from all of this, but I knew there was no time, so I picked up my mace once more.