I suck in a sharp breath, falling back on my senses and using blind intuition to guide me through the forest.
The smell of petrichor fills my lungs with the promise of rain, while the last vestiges of vermillion light stream through the canopy overhead, violet and indigo painting the sky between the gaps in the leaves.
I sense Lynx before I see him. It’s like gossamer slowly drifting over my skin, another layer of warmth against the elements.
My steps come to a halt beside a fallen tree.
Somehow, I know he senses me too. Seeing him like this, unguarded, partially distracted, focused on something other than anger, he looks human—like the type of person who would mindlessly tuck me against his side just to feel me, who’d laugh as we sit on the balcony, sipping our beers, and cheat at Monopoly.
He’s not a demon. Not a murderer. Not an old creature lost in a world that’s moved on without him.
He’s just Lynx.
But he doesn’t look up from the bush he’s wading through or do anything to acknowledge my existence. For reasons I don’t want to give light to, it hurts.
It’s like I’m standing beside Ella and the world seems to notice everyone but me again, as if I’m inconsequential or an unwanted side effect that people close their eyes and wish away.
That sensation goes away as quickly as it came.
He stops and looks up at me, and I remember what it is to feel seen, not looked through or briefly regarded, but noticed from the soles of my feet to the strands of hair that stick up at the top of my head.
It’s so simple—a small act, really—yet the frozen wall inside me defrosts as he stands there, patiently waiting for me to reach his side, face unreadable. Something uncomfortable swoops in my stomach that feels dangerously like moths pathetically fluttering about at something so mundane.
My jaw tightens. He doesn’t feel the same about me. He’s a demon for Christ’s sake. They don’t do flowers or cuddling or chaste kisses throughout the day.
I’ve lived my entire life without it. Survived a childhood not knowing what love really felt like. I should be fine going the rest of eternity the same way.
Neither of us say anything when we fall into step beside each other, slowly walking through the forest with only the dim sunlight to guide our way. In the silence, I feel content. It’s companionable. Two doomed creatures stuck in prison who’ve finally found ground we can both stand on.
It’s shaky, but the foundations are there. If we’re going to be stuck together, it’s a good place to start.
Dusk is leeching the color from the bushes and the flowers dotted around, while the vines sway in the soft breeze that promises another cold night I’ll feel in my bones. But right now, it’s not so cold. There’s warmth where he is.
He carries a shoulder sack he’s made out of spare material that I haven’t noticed before, and he offers no explanation for it, searching the ground and the trees for something I can’t make out. A way to end his curse maybe? Is this how he’s been spending his days?
A heavy lump forms in my throat. “What are you looking for?”
“Evidence.”
“Do me the courtesy of answering in full sentences the way I did for you,” I snap, but it lacks the usual bite. I’m getting tired of everything.
Huffing, he slows to shift a bush to the side and quickly checks under it. “Have you ever heard of a Tor’Oth?”
“Is that one of the orc things fromLord of the Rings?”
“Lord of the what? No, it’s a type of demon.”
Not an orc, then.
“What about it?” Worry lines my forehead. “Is one here?” My eyes dart between the surrounding trees, not knowing what I’m meant to be looking for. “I’m barely dealing with you anda hellhound. I don’t have the patience for another one of your kind.”
“I was cursed to spend an eternity rotting in Hell. You pulled me out of my prison. The ruler of Hell should have sent a Tor’Oth to search for me and drag me back.”
“Are they… like you?” Either way, I’d spend the rest of my life happy to never see anything to do with Hell again.
“Far worse.” He shakes his head, lips thinning. “If they kill you, the next time you wake up, you’ll wish you never did.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Would I… would I be taken to the afterlife then?
