Frigid winter winds whirled through the forest’s bare branches, the last remaining leaves plucked off their branches from the gale. The Beast shuddered at the frost beneath its hooves; not because of the chill (no cold could faze the steed), but because of how different it felt to walk atop it.

The demon had long since grown resigned to spending its eternity here, chained and bound to the ginkgo tree in which its siblings so righteously decided. It was to languish here, to waste away. Until now, the Beast had been more than content to do just that, but not without taking its own prey to entertain itself. Sure, its siblings had trapped it here, but not a single one said that the time was to be spent in solitude.

It was implied, of course, but not required.

The creature grew used to having its human companion alongside it as time passed, each visit growing in length and frequency. And, with each visit, came more energy, blissfully bestowed upon a frozen organic puck. It didn’t take much to siphon the energy out; all the Beast needed was a hold on it. With each delivery, the invisible chord tying the creature to its stake weakened, vibrating with a hum that threatened to snap like a wire pulled taut.

The demon was not strong enough. Not yet.

And when the creature made one such attempt to snap its chain in the human’s presence, he shot to his feet, reached into the pocket of his coat and brandished a pistol. He let off one warning shot into the bark of the ginkgo tree and the demon paused, tail flicking.

Heat and stardust lingered in the air beside the creature’s head. It flicked its ears in annoyance and cantered off to the side, dipping its hooves in the water.

“Down, brute,” he said. “You don’t have nearly enough of the dosage to see yourself free. Not yet.”

And you do not have nearly enough of it to speak with me yourself, cur, the demon replied, though the human would not hear. For all his bravado, the human did not seem intent on making the effort to speak or treat the demon like an equal. After all, they were both demons, just in different shapes. It would be better for monsters to work together. Yet, the human didn’t seem intent on doing so.

“When I can determine that the bond has weakened,” said the man, flicking the cuffs of his royal red coat, “then we can try that. Thrashing doesn't make anything about the process better. It just tells me you’re impatient. And we can’t work together or move onto the next step in this operation if we’re not on the same page.”

Now he speaks of cooperation.

As if he was not willing to shoot the demon dead earlier.

What he was playing at, the Beast wasn’t sure. What the creature did know was that one could only tolerate such a presence for so long.

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It huffed air from its nose, deep purple tendrils poking out from the tops of its horns. Around them, the mist gave way to dark, knitting together with shadows. Not enough to engulf them both, but enough to make an enclosure, a void made of just the two of them.

The human kept his pistol out, face neutral, still. The weapon, pointed directly at the Beast’s snout, clicked.

Before the man could pull the trigger, a shadowed tendril shot from the ground, piercing flesh, bone, muscle. A scream rang out in the abyss and the pistol clattered to the ground.

You cannot control me with petty tricks.

Threads snaked up the man’s legs like vipers, dark unnatural veins. They cinched tight around his limbs and the human fell to a knee.

You cannot claim to work as equals when you seek to leave me chained.

The demon worked its tendrils around the man’s ears, the algae of its mane wrapping around the human’s wrists. A low, feral sounding growl came from his throat; he doubled over and the creature took sadistic pleasure in bringing the mortal to his knees. What were they good for if not bowing? They only had such little time. They may as well pledge to something worthwhile.

When the human stopped writhing in resistance, the demon spoke again. And this time, the message was delivered.

Betray me again, it said, and you will perish with your entrails strewn across the land, poisoned by both star and shadow. I will not warn you twice.

The human gave a strangled cry, something between acknowledgement and annoyance, and the demon took the shadows away. Mist returned as it had once been, slick with a lavender film that coated the rest of the forest in dull, lifeless undertones. The man, on all fours, slowly sat back on his heels, ruffling his thick, dark red hair as he looked up. Something wicked flared in his cold, murky eyes, furious at the submission.

If there was any kind of retort, the human didn’t say it. He just stood up, reached into his back pocket, and dropped a tangle of leather straps onto the ground.

The demon paused, tail flicking. For once, uncertainty lingered in its hesitating steps, one towards, another few back.

With a final run of his hand through his hair, slicking it back, the man paused at the back of his neck, and tossed something in the direction of the Beast. It found its target and before the demon could do anything, its limbs buckled and a surge of heat seared through it. The creature howled, something high and shattering. Vultures took flight, water rippled, and the shadows cast by the barren branches wavered, shivering like light caught in a glass. Even the mist evaporated a little before coming back together, darker this time and stitched by the void.

When the Beast finally recovered, something twisted along its snout, digging into flesh. The creature could not bleed, no, but it could feel pain. There was no doubt in the demon’s mind that whatever had been wrapped around its face was laced with stardust, imbued with the strength to resist and keep the creature at bay. It gave a raging howl and bared its teeth, fangs curling from beneath its lip but a strap lashed against its muzzle.

A pinch nicked its side, followed by heavy pressure that weighed the creature down. Its movements slowed, its anger dulled. It could barely lift its head to stare at its attacker.

Damn mortals …

“You betray me,” hissed the man sliding out of focus, “and I’ll make what your siblings did to you look like child’s play.”