The Demon and the Elf (Book 1)

Chapter Eight pt 3

Eial walked with as much stealth as he could to a dark alleyway where rain protecting banners hid him from above. He caressed the rough surface of the wall beside him before he slumped down against it, hugging his knees.

In all the years he was alone, what pushed him forward was knowing his bond was somewhere out there and that one day he could find him and finally be happy. Every time he saw bonded mates holding hands and whispering sweet words on his occasional strolls around the elven towns, he never felt envy. Instead, he felt bashful. Because that would be him one day. Right?

He thought of the demon and the times they shared a meal together. The times they laughed. The times he glanced over and saw his handsome demon sound asleep right across from him. And then he thought of the darkness he felt now. He clutched at the pain in his chest, struggling to breath. He was truly alone. The last hope he had crumbled like a breaking cliff, falling until it seemed like it never existed in the first place.

"What's wrong, kid? Lost?" An unfamiliar demon stood at the end of the path with his elbow resting against the wall.

In his puddle of emotions, Eial failed to recognize anyone was near. Taken by surprise, he whipped his head and stared in nervousness. When he saw the demon walking closer, he turned to sprint the other way, tightening the hood of his cloak so it wouldn't fall off.

"Wait!" the strange demon called as he threw sprays of dark magic, entangling and chaining Eial's legs and knocking him over.

The unfamiliar demon walked over, but before he was close enough, Eial spun around and whipped a wave of water magic straight into the demon's eyes, the mild distraction enough for him to lose control of his dark magic.

"I knew I saw green eyes! What's an elf doin' over here?" The words of curiosity only held malice as the demon wiped the water from his face and chased full speed, spraying thread after thread of dark energy.

Normally, Eial would have been able to defend himself, find a place to hide and teleport to safety. But his body and heart were unnaturally weary and he was left to defend himself with almost nothing. With panting breaths, Eial ran as fast as he could, but with each intersection he crossed, a new curious onlooker joined the pursuit.

He pushed unattended barrels behind him to gain some time, tripping the demons who chose to run in the cramped alleyway. Taking a turn and another, he found himself molded between two large crates of waste, wishing within himself that the demons wouldn't notice the tiny, unmoving space.

Light vibrations reverberated on the elf's palms as he placed them under him to track the demons with earth magic. The vibrations came closer... and closer...

Right beside him...

And then...

Farther...

Eial breathed in slowly, and with the mild relief, his eyes watered. What was he supposed to do? His body started to tremble. He felt like a mouse caught in a feline's den. What was going to become of him? Was he going to escape? ...Does it even matter?

He turned to face the sky, the sunset glow washing over the sparse clouds. His heart yearned for the comfort of the familiar demon. The arrogant smirk the horned being often wore used to tickle him. But then he was reminded of his yelling and pitiless sneer as he took off.

The small elf's lips began to quiver and within seconds, raindrops from his eyes painted his cheeks. He missed his demon. He wanted to be near his demon. And just as he thought so, a pair of wings blocked his vision above him.

"Found you," the voice said with a sinister grin. It was a demon. But it wasn't his demon.

And in an instant, Eial's hands and legs were covered and tied with dark magic.

~~~

Drokn had just left the elf in his fit of fury, but within a few minutes of flying, he realized he had nowhere to go. He needed a way back into the palace, and reasoning with his father would only be met with ignorance and snide remarks. Winning a fight with him was the only option, but first he needed to rest. His body ached and he was depleted of most of his magic. I only lost because I didn't sleep. I'm sure I would have knocked him if I was full of energy.

Without money, he hoped he could at least make his way into an inn by claiming his title, assuming they didn't know of the news that it had been removed. However, the bigger issue was convincing them. The king had him hidden his whole life— embarrassed to reveal the disappointment his father thought of his son as. Was there anything on him that could prove his royal lineage?

He glided to the ground and looked around, walking along the open road. Just as he suspected, no one knew who he was. No one batted an eye at his presence, and that only added fuel to his anger. He huffed out a rough breath and suddenly remembered the elf, the way he had looked at him before, and then his expression before he left.

"But we're bonded...," the little elf had said with a heartbreakingly distraught voice.

Drokn closed his eyes tight and clenched his fist, a gnawing feeling deepening inside him. He's fine. He'll just escape and find an elf somewhere some day, he thought, but that brought on another feeling of discomfort in him, and he clenched his fist even more.

Just as he was flooded with mixed thoughts, a sudden strong tug pulled him into a dark and empty side path and he was slammed against the wall.

"Why the fuck isn't he with you?" A woman's voice questioned him as he was pinned against his chest by her arm. The sharp end of a knife was held by the same arm and pointed out towards his throat.

"Who the fuc—" Drokn started before his eyes fixed a clearer vision of the person standing in front. "You... you witch!" he gritted his teeth, trying to shove her with no success.

"Be quiet, you brat!" the lady said as she covered his mouth with her other arm and pushed harder into the demon's chest. "Where is he? Where's the elf?"

Drokn tried to use magic to push her away, but nothing happened. When he looked down, he noticed he was standing on a spell circle. Glaring back at the demoness in front of him, he mumbled underneath her forceful arm.

"That's right, this spell stops magic for a bit. And I have an edge on muscle strength over a spoiled palace brat like you. So speak quiet or I'll slit your throat." She turned the knife closer, the sharp edge cool on his skin, and let go of his mouth slightly. "So? Where's the elf?" she asked again. When Drokn didn't answer, she took in a sharp breath of annoyance and tried once more, emphasizing each word. "Where's Eial?"