It didn’t take long before he snarled, the bed dipping and his hand fisting into her hair. His face was creased with frustration, probably at both her silence and blatant dismissal of everything asked of her. She wasn’t sure how long it has been without the help of natural light, maybe a day or two.
Kyra would have smiled, but she knew it resulted in punishment. The choker around her neck tightened, only slightly, a gentle reminder that she had no control.
“Bane is furious, three of his men still haven’t returned.” He slowly reached for her cuff, tapping on the crystal before brushing across the top of her breasts. She didn’t react, even as her pulse thundered in her ears.
How long had it been? Two, three days? Possibly more as she wasn’t sure how long she was unconscious for every time she was punished. She needed to know about Xander, but was too scared to ask. If he was alive he would be used against her, and she couldn’t risk him, not even to save her life.
Dirk’s nostrils flared as his head tilted to the side, his fingers playing with the edge of her bra. Mighty wings rose over his shoulders, spreading across her peripheral until she saw nothing but him. “We’re not that much different, Kyra,” he whispered against her, privately.
“I’m nothing like you,” she finally said with a hiss.
Dirk grinned in triumph, pulling back slightly. “My kin and I are the druids biggest secret. We’re the ancestors that chose dark magic, and in return for the power we evolved into Daemons. We’re hunted because of what we are. Tell me, how does that make us that different?”
His wings snapped back, and she flinched at the sound. “I don’t hurt people!”
“You keep telling yourself that,” he said. “Our magic isn’t rainbows and sunshine. Death and blood is what makes us powerful, you should never apologise for it.”
“What do you want from me?” she asked when his red eyes narrowed. “What can I do that you can’t if we’re the same?”
“Not many of the pitiful druids choose the rite to evolve, which is why we’ve had to resort to force. Unfortunately, not many are strong enough to accept the transition.”
Which meant they died during the process.
“Druids are already rare, so we’ve tried over the last few centuries with shifters to create a hybrid,” he continued. “The majority failed, and now there are less than fifty Daemons left.”
“Maybe part of the evolution is extinction,” Kyra said before she was slammed against the wall. The bed broke into two as it was propelled across the room, tipping on its side with a groan.
“Careful,” he warned. “We believe that during the transition our souls change, adapt.” He pressed harder, red eyes glowing. “It makes the survival rate… disappointing, which is where you come in, my Little Black Witch. I need you to make sure their souls remain exactly where they’re supposed to be until the transition is complete.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then I will continue to punish you, and innocent druids will die.” His smile caused spiders to crawl across her skin. “What were you saying about being nothing like me?”
“Dirk, I suggest you get the subjects ready,” Bane said as he stepped inside the room, disguised in his basic glamour once more. “I’ll prepare Kyra for the rite.”
Dirk tilted his head, his tongue snaking out to lick along her jaw. “Looks like you’re up, my Little Black Witch.” He released her without warning, her legs collapsing at her own weight. “I’ll be seeing you real soon,” he chuckled, his heavy footsteps fading, only to be replaced with quieter ones.
“Come on,” Bane said, reaching down with an open hand. “The more you participate, the easier this will be.”
“Easier?” she croaked, tipping her head back to look up at him. Even his clothing choice was mundane, blue jeans and a white t-shirt that matched his forgettable face. “He wants me to hurt people.”
“No, you’re saving them. How do you not see that?” He reached down to grip her arm, pulling her to her feet. “You’re filthy, come with me.”
He gently nudged her towards the connecting bathroom, the sink and toilet smudged with grime. A shower was placed in the corner, the surrounding glass long gone.
“Clean up,” he said calmly, “you’ll feel better once you’re not covered in blood.”
Kyra crossed her arms.
Bane sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He reached over to the shower, turning the dial and after a minute or so water trickled out. “Clean up. Once you’re refreshed we will talk through my expectations of you.”
“No.”
“Kyra.” He said her name like a warning. “I will not discuss this again. Take your soiled clothes off and clean yourself.” When she hesitated Bane’s eyes narrowed, and wild magic prickled against her skin. “I don’t want to hurt you, not when we need each other, but I will. You have no choice, not now The Magicka is actively hunting you. You’ll never be free, not unless you do exactly what we say.”
“I’m not undressing with you here.”
Bane cocked his head, and then suddenly he was gone. Kyra blinked, staring into the space as if she concentrated enough he would appear again. That was how he watched her for all those years. She pushed out her chi, searching for him and felt… nothing. To all her senses he wasn’t there.
