Somewhere south of Astrye

The demon that was once Lorelei felt the collar around her neck, running a talon over its rune-etched surface. Even when she came back to them, told them everything, told them that Zarenna was the Sovereign of Wrath… they hadn’t trusted her.

And why would they—they shouldn’t. She wouldn’t trust herself, either.

But why did it hurt?

It was for her own good; Great Unc—Master Mordwell had said as much.

The reason was probably her deviant thoughts. Thinking of herself like a human. Like she was anything other than an instrument of war—of murder when misused.

Her feet were cold as she marched ahead, but the taloned, monstrous limbs would fit no shoe. The quiet of the forest pounded against her skull, and the demon Zarenna’s words seemed to whisper in the winter wind that shook snow from the tops of stunted trees.

“I’m never leaving you,” one breeze said, and the demon shivered.

Leaving who? Lorelei was dead. This demon that had her memories was a sick parody—a perversion of that human’s life. And even then… Zarenna had killed her. She should be furious. She was furious.

But… she also wanted to bend her knee and cry into Zarenna’s shoulder at the same time. Do demons even cry?

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Nothing made sense anymore. Ever since she’d been dragged out of hell by Master Mordwell, everything had been so clear. He’d given her a purpose. He’d given her a place to belong; to be more than the mindless killing machine that she otherwise would have been.

Another breeze blew, and with it came more painful words. “Would you rather die? Become something you hate?”

What kind of question was that? She was already something she hated—no, Lorelei would have hated. She wasn’t her. Couldn’t be her. She was Deliverance now, her name granted to her by her master. She had a purpose and she did not want to die.

And she was an evil, vile demon. She loved what she was—reveled in it.

Right?

The demon, Deliverance, heard footsteps behind her and realized she’d let her thoughts distract her enough that the rest of the group was catching up. Only a couple dozen humans, and a handful of greater demons, they were all she had left.

What?

She shouldn’t care about that. Demons couldn’t empathize.

But… Deliverance remembered a painful trip down a freezing river. She remembered a warm fire under a bank and a demon who’d pulled her out. A demon who’d listened to her. A demon who’d given her space and not tried to push anything on her. A demon who’d taken all the shit flung at her and come back with a smile.

A demon who’d killed her.

On accident. A terrible, tragic accident, a whisper in her mind said.

Had Zarenna cried then too?

“Deliverance,” her master said, magic carrying his voice up the trail.

“Y-yes?” she replied, momentarily stunned by the meekness of her voice.

“Do not linger,” Mordwell said in a cold voice. “We’ve places to be, and those vile, wild demons will chase us down if we make a single mistake.”

“Yes, Master,” Deliverance replied.

Her thoughts focused once again as she picked up her pace into a fast jog, and the forest around her grew quiet. But somewhere, in the back of her mind, she wondered… what if.