Beyond His Evil

THIRTY-SEVEN.

~THIRD-PERSON POV~

S

he wasn’t responding anymore.

Devon pressed his ear to the door, brows furrowed. Silence.

Too much silence.

His heart kicked up in panic.

“Kira!” he shouted, banging a fist against the door. “Kira, please say something!”

No answer.

“The seer said she’s still in there,” someone whispered behind him, but Devon had already stepped back.

And then he launched forward—slamming into the door with his full weight.

It didn’t budge.

Pain shot up his shoulder, but he ignored it and rammed again. And again. And again.

His vision blurred, breath ragged, pain screaming through his limbs, but the door held. It wouldn’t open.

A low, guttural growl tore from his throat, deep and primal. The seer flinched, backing away.

He could hear their hearts racing behind him.

They were scared.

They should be.

His nails lengthened into claws. His canines stretched into fangs. His eyes glowed a violent, bleeding red. He was slipping, losing his grip on the thin thread of control he barely held together.

The demon inside was rising.

“KIRA!” he roared, voice cracking the silence like a whip. But there was nothing from the other side of the door.

And then, control snapped.

The growl that followed rattled the walls.

“Devon, calm down,” came the general’s voice.

Devon turned slowly, eyes blazing. The general—the only man insane enough to let a demon inside Safe Land—met his gaze.

Behind him, the humans had already fled. The hunters stepped back, drawing weapons and getting ready to attack.

Fools.

Devon could kill them all in seconds.

“Calm down,” the general repeated the order, voice strained but steady. “Or else...”

Devon scoffed, then pointed at the door. “If that door isn’t open in the next two seconds, I will burn this entire place to the ground.”

The general tensed, but before he could speak, the seer stepped forward.

“Don’t threaten us, Devon,” she said firmly. “We’re doing everything we can.”

Devon stared at her, bloodlust in his gaze. Her double irises flicked toward him, reading him. He knew she was trying to peer into his mind.

A second later, she paled and staggered back, horror twisting her features.

Good.

Because all he was thinking about was murder.

Snarling, he turned and launched himself at the door again. Useless. The frustration twisted inside him like barbed wire.

Then—

“I don’t understand why he’s so worked up about her,” a hunter muttered nearby. “She’s just another worthless hunter.”

Devon’s head snapped around.