Beyond His Evil

TWENTY-FOUR.

🥀🥀
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It had been a considerable amount of time since Devon left to meet with the general, and my nerves were eating me alive. I couldn't stop replaying his last words in my mind.

"You're staying here tonight."

I wondered if it was a wise decision to sleep with him. I mean-sleep in the same room. Not sleep with him.

Heat rushed to my face at the thought of everything that had happened between us. Devon was an incredible kisser, and the more I thought about it, the warmer I became.

I exhaled sharply, pressing a hand against my heated face.

Focus!

I needed a distraction.

Pushing off the bed, I decided to explore his room. I had planned to check out his bookshelf, but a book in the corner caught my attention. It was open, a pen placed in the middle as if he had abandoned it mid-thought.

Curious, I picked it up.

The pages were filled with neat, handwritten text-but the language was entirely foreign to me. I had never seen anything like it before.

Had Devon written this?

I hesitated. The right thing to do was put it down. This was personal, something he hadn't meant for others to read.

My fingers hovered over the page. A part of me knew I shouldn't pry. But another part-one drowning in questions-needed to know.

Slowly, I flipped through the pages.

Most of it was unreadable, but then, something caught my eye. English words. I skimmed through them, my pulse quickening.

At the top of the page, Devon had written:

"Healers."

My stomach twisted. I knew healers had been destroyed. Was he researching them?

The sentences below were short and disjointed as if he had been writing in a rush or battling his thoughts.

"One more will come. She's unaware and different. Should I intervene? He desires her, but I cannot allow him to have her."

I frowned. Who was he talking about?

"But I made a deal. And a deal with him is unbreakable. I only hope she is not the one. This was not planned, but I cannot let her slip away."

My breath caught in my throat.

Devon had made a deal.

With who?

For what?

I quickly flipped through the rest of the book, searching for more, but there was nothing else in English. Just blank spaces and strange foreign text.

As I turned the book back, a sheet of paper fluttered to the floor.

I bent down and picked it up.

It was a painting-an eye.

Silver. Hollow. Almost lifeless.

Something about it sent a ripple of unease through me. I had seen eyes like this before-but where?

Then-

The door swung open.

I barely had time to react before Devon strode in, tugging his shirt over his head, his expression unreadable.

My heart lurched.

"It was the seer who called for me," he said.

I barely heard him.