DEMON CRY

52.

Finding an inn to spend the night was a mammoth task in Tracovia, Chosen Heir Amara realized. Things would be easy if she just donned the crown. Innkeepers would no doubt vacate the best rooms and smother her all the comforts they could find. Unfortunately, she had to keep a low profile else the news would reach Lord Tyhane and he would certainly take her to the fort where she would be kept under strict and watchful eyes. 

The sky above her was dark. It was becoming harder to see. The eerie winds brought the wintry cold from the mountains and her coat flapped about her exposing her skin to the iciness. 

The helplessness she felt came as a blow to her pride. 

A hand gripped her shoulder and yanked her into a small alleyway. Amara was caught off guard but soon her training kicked in. Green tendrils swirled around her fingertips and latched onto seared the assailant's hands with such intensity that he jerked away from her. The tendrils around her cracked like a whip as she spun on her heels to face the man who had tried to take advantage of her. 

Red eyes stared back her. 

A demon. 

He was about to attack her when he stilled and stumbled back like he had been punched. His eyes became wide and the determined look in his eyes crumbled into an addled one. 'It's y-you!' 

What?

'Green eyes, dark hair and magic. It's you!' He grinned. 'Are you a maiden?' 

Amara had expected a nasty battle. 

'Never mind that,' he shrugged, 'He said he didn't mean it.' He looked at her expectantly like what he was trying to say would just strike her. She blinked at him. The two of them looked at each other, demanding an explanation. 

She folded her arms over her chest, 'I do not know what you're talking about.' 

He deflated. 'I thought you were the one he was talking about.' 

'Who are you talking about?'

'Are you a spy?' He counter questioned. 

'Need I remind you that you are on Dithrai lands and that you are in no position to ask any questions.' 

'You could try,' he said cooly.

She was baffled, to say the least. 'Just who are you talking about?'

He eyed her sceptically. 'How do I know you wouldn't throw me to the wolves after I tell you?'

She stood up straight, 'You have my word.' 

'Not good enough.' 

'Then what do you want?' She humoured him. 

'Your identity. By the looks of it, I can that you're either running away from somebody or you're running toward somebody.' 

She gritted her teeth. Was it so obvious?

'How do I know you're telling the truth?' 

'You don't. You just have to trust me.' 

She glowered at him. Trust him? Was he serious? Trusting a demon?

'Then I'll take my leave.' 

He was stunned by her reply. She could tell. His eyes widened the slightest before he schooled it. The action spoke in volumes. It conveyed to her that he was someone of status and power. 

'By all means, be my guest.' 

It was followed by a match where neither of them moved a muscle. 

Did she really want to believe a demon? Believe that his quest to find some maiden who had features like hers? But why else would he not attack her? He should have tried to rip her throat out by now! He wasn't giving her any reason to blast him! All they did was eye each other with uncertainty, expecting the other to give in. 

She relented. 'I am Amara Octavius.' 

'You're an Octavian?' Shock registered on his face.

'Yes.' 

'You must really hate our kind then.' 

She chose not to reply. Instead of turning away, she looked straight into his red eyes, demanding his end of the deal. 

'The Dithrai Prince sent me.' 

Her heart froze mometarily before it began to hammer against her ribs. She could not believe her ears. It felt like a dream, so much so that she forced out, 'The Prince?'

'Yes.'

'Prince Damien?' She whispered his name as her eyes welled up with tears. After all this time, all this time of searching, playing and pretending... Her love had finally reached out to her. 

He bobbed his head. 

'What was his message?' 

The demon scratched the back of his neck, addled by the woman's sudden interest in Prince Damien. 'He told me that he didn't mean a word he said.' 

Amara's heart thumped with joy. Her knees buckled before her legs gave away. She sobbed into her hands. The tears that rolled down her cheeks were those of elation. He didn't mean the words he said- but she already knew that, didn't she? Then why was it that hearing it, felt as if a weight was lifted off her heart. 

Finally, something that soothed her aching soul. 

No one else could have known. She believed the person before her, even if he was a demon. 

'I-I know he didn't.' She looked down at her hands, 'I've always known that he didn't.' 

'So it is you.' 

'You could have just told me,' she sniffed as she wiped her tears with the back of her hand. 

'He did not give me a name. Green eyes, dark hair, maiden of magic and the message, that was all I was given.' He extended his hand toward her. 

She gladly took it and with his help, she stood on her feet, 'It must have been difficult.' 

He nodded, 'You can imagine.' 

She smiled at him. 'How is he?'

The demon's face hardened and he turned away. The joy she had experienced was soon overpowered by misery.  

'Please,' she began, 'tell me everything.' 

He gazed at her, 'You believe me? Even when you know I am not one of you?' 

She gave him a small smile, 'What is your name?' 

'Raphael.'

'Well, Raphael, if Damien trusts you, then so do I.'