“Always so quick to blame.”
“What other possibility is there?”
Her upper lip curls up into a sneer. I’m convinced she could cut me with a sharp enough glare. “Have you ever stopped to look inward? You humans are lesser demons yourselves.”
“How dare you—”
“You hide hatred in your hearts for everyone and everything. You know for a fact I’m right.”
I set my jaw, irritation simmering beneath the surface of my skin. “And you’re an expert how, exactly?”
“Because I watch,” she answers. “And I learn. Mankind hates what it does not understand and makes no effort to change itsways. Malice upon the man who speaks a different tongue, whose flesh is not a matching shade. Pity upon your women whose simple existence is an excuse to incur your wrath. Mercy for your children whose innocence will always be corrupted, either by time or by the hands of those they were taught to trust—”
“Be quiet,” I snap.
“Or what?” Yue smiles then, wide and daring. “Will you show me firsthand what your hatred is capable of?”
Shame washes over me when I nearly give in to anger, my fingers itching to draw my sword. Damn her and her wicked tongue. I refuse to let her best me.
“We’re not all like that.”
“Enough of you are.”
“You see what you want to see,” I tell her coldly.
Yue huffs. “I see what isthere.”
It is strange to think that we’ve both walked the same green earth all this time, every step taken having led us to our unfortunate encounter. I do not believe in fate, only the possibilities we make for ourselves—yet I can’t help but wonder if we were always meant to cross paths.
Yue is the first to break eye contact, rolling over to turn her back toward me. “Do me a favor and try not to panic again,” she warns. “You smell atrocious.”
“Are you always compelled to have the last word?”
“Yes.”
I am a patient man, but she has a talent for wearing that patience thin. If I continue to challenge her, she’ll meet me in force. And yet, if I say nothing, I will have no choice but to endure her conceited satisfaction.
In the end, I decide on silence. I’ll be damned if I let the fox make a mockery of me. Ignoring her may be the only chance to keep my sanity. Flipping to a blank page at the back of my log, Iallow my mind to wander, determined to fixate on the sound of charcoal gliding over paper.
My artistic ventures came reluctantly. As a child, I had no friends my age with whom I could play. While my brothers enjoyed the luxuries of the Jade Palace, I was raised far away in one of the king’s many summer estates—an inconsequential son shunted to the side. Drawing was a simple pastime; one I could easily partake anywhere and in solitude. It’s more meditative than enjoyable. A useful way to keep track of my hunts, yes, but also a way to quiet the mind.
I sketch what lies before me, calmed by the warm haze of the dwindling fire. I pay special attention to the point of Yue’s chin. The way her hair falls neatly on either side of her face. I capture the sharp angle of her eyes—befittingly vulpine—as well as the fullness of her wicked lips.
Her beauty is ethereal. I have no doubts she could weaponize her allure to bring mankind to its knees. How many poor fools has she managed to beguile into becoming her dinner?
I will be the one to stop her. I have to.
It isn’t until I run out of space to draw that I finally lift the charcoal off the paper, staring down at my work in horror. I’ve drawn her striking visage again and again, her aggravating gaze judging me at different angles. Frustration licks up the back of my neck. This must be some sort of demonic trick, unescapably worming her way into my mind.
You see what you want to see.
What the hell am I doing?
Gritting my teeth, I tear the page out and ball it up in my palm before tossing it on the fire, observing Yue from across the flames. She has fallen sound asleep—though I wouldn’t put it past her to only be pretending.
The fox is far too clever for my liking.
I cannot let down my guard.
