Demon Lord

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Demon Lord Page 59

by T C Southwell


  Chapter Fourteen

  Sacrifice

  Bane woke slowly from a more peaceful sleep than he had enjoyed for months. His father had not visited him, so perhaps tonight he would brave the Black Lord’s wrath and call him again. He needed answers. For a while he lay still, revelling in the lack of pain. Even his foot did not throb as much as usual. He yawned and stretched, wincing at the stab of pain from the healing wounds in his chest and flank as the surge of his muscles tugged at them. Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes and looked down at the girl, surprised to find her gone. She must have risen early and gone for a walk. His enhanced senses informed him that she was not in the camp, and he frowned, expanding his awareness.

  A pang of anxiety went through him when he still could not sense her, and he stood up, pulling on his shirt, boots and cloak. The stupid girl had fled. Cold pain stabbed his chest as he stepped out of the tent into the pale dawn light. He hated the new feelings, cursing his inability to let her go. A demon, or Orran’s people, would kill her, freeing him, yet the thought brought a fresh stab of pain and a deep sense of loss. Her spell still held him powerfully, and he could not resign himself to her loss. He had to get her back, but only to thwart his father. He would not let him win.

  The demon steed came at his command, and he mounted. Turning its fiery head towards Orran’s temple, he urged it to its best speed. She would retrace her steps right into their midst, of that he had no doubt, and he knew exactly what would happen to her when they caught her. The steed flew over the earth at a speed no mortal horse could hope to match, its hooves barely touching the ground, its tail streaming out in a plume of fire, scorched hoof prints smoking in its wake.

 

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