Finger by finger he scaled my thigh, a festival of cuts swirling down my leg.

Each touch left a kiss, tiny slits with tiny breaths. It hurt, but I’d give anything to keep us in this moment, his silver claws nestled in my hands and my head rested against his chest. Here, lying behind the steps to the only Temple in our hidden-away town, things felt right.

Connor cocked his head, his hands sweeping like fireflies through my hair. “You know something, C?”

I shook my head.

“If there was one thing in this world that could turn me into a gambler, to make me question my every belief, you know what it’d be?”

Scoffing, I pushed off him. “Come on, Connor. Don’t talk like that.”

Everything about this moment was so perfect, each graze against his body lighting a new spark within me. And yet, there was something horribly wrong. His smile, his promises, his love—all of it scared me. Connor was explosive at heart, a crying volcano dormant within him. One day it’d come out, and when it did, I’d be helpless, shackled to his every whim.

“Damn, you know me too well. Guess I’ll just let you read my mind from now on.”

He looked so happy sitting there, but we both knew this was wrong. He was born a Hound, and I was born Immortal, opposites marked by birth.

I gripped his hand, feeling his arm quiver. “We need to talk. A lot has been going on this past while, and, I. . .” I trailed off, biting my lip as he looked elsewhere. “Connor.”

Rather than respond, he jumped. Snaking his arms around me, he ignored my protests as he yanked me off the steps. Pressed against the dirty floor, his expression turned stoic as he grabbed at my hair, the strands spilling past my shoulders like sloping waterfalls.

“Let go!” I demanded, pushing off of him. “What’s going on with you?”

“Not now, Cass. Stay quiet.”

“Not now? What is that supposed to—”

He put his hand over my mouth, and then ever so carefully, put a finger to his lips.  Trailing his eyeline, I saw it. “Over there. See him?”

At first, all I saw mangled bushes, marble statues, and then finally. . . I caught it. No doubt seeing the shock on my face, he whispered, “That guy’s no joke. He’s got a Faraphax seal, and it looks like he’s guarding the temple. If he sees the two of us here, and especially if he happens to be an upper-rank. . .”

Silent, I nodded. He didn’t need to explain any further. But then again, looking at this kindly old man dressed in the baby-blue garb of a Faraphax underling, it was hard to feel threatened. “Did he see us?”

Connor shook his head. Carefully, I scooched up and peeked over the rails, step by step inching forward. The guard appeared short, and with a gauntness that did little to hide his hunger. His eyes, however, held a certain warmth beneath them, like a 200-year old grandpa reminiscing on times spent with his great-great-great grandkids. Moving from his face to his body, I spotted what I was looking for—a lone star on his chest. Bronze.

“Thank the Lord,” Connor mused, relaxing his muscles. “You saw it too, right? He’s wearing the bronze star of a Faraphax guard—he’s only here for show. We should be alright.”

Connor yawned and stretched, rising from the ground. Before he stood in plain sight, I yanked him back down.

“Cassie, it’s fine—” I shushed him. Something was off here. This man who was supposed to be a bronze star emitted an aura of someone far beyond his lowly station, his face horribly withered while mismatched battle scars slithered up both arms.

He rolled his eyes. “I promise you it’s safe, but we can leave if you’re that bothered.”

We should go, I thought.

But then I shook my head. I may have only just turned eighteen, but I was still an Immortal, and an Immortal girl had every right to bring along her Mortal slave. Sure, one could say were sitting a tad too close, perhaps a bit too informal. . . but in the end, no Immortal had the right to deprive another of her pet.

I felt a touch. The tiniest little prick, like a fly landing on my neck.

“Fingers off, lad.”

The voice spoke in drawls—bored, almost, as we scrambled to locate its source. Looking back over, it appeared the guard had vanished, with bits of red and orange marking the spot he’d once occupied. Scrunching my nose, I turned in a circle as a lilac-scented mist overwhelmed us. My eyes teared as I struggled to keep them open, and with each second the air tightened, like the wires of a violin snapping into place.

Out of the mist marched a man dressed in a regal uniform. A man whose face was bestowed with that same withered look, the very same scars as the guard from before. He was different now, however, having seemingly doubled in size while his skinny frame was now lined with bulging muscles. With his warm eyes cold and his blue-garb transformed into a tunic of blood-wine and bronze-gold, I realized just how badly we’d been deceived.

This was a Faraphax commander.

“I’d rather not repeat myself. Now back away from the girl, Hound.”

I laughed, putting on my most confident face. “That’s quite the illusion you’ve got there. You really had me convinced you were a grunt.”

Connor’s chest shuddered while the officer smirked, a rumble deep within him. The officer approached us, and with every step I smelled fire, a snow-white smoke crawling up my nose. Up mine, and up Connor’s.

Oh, no.

Instantly, I gathered essence into my fingers and unleashed it on Connor. He didn’t deserve the pain, and I’d only just begun controlling my powers, but if Connor let the Hound inside him out. . . well, I could try to hold back my strength, but this guy wouldn’t flinch.

Connor began to blink, slowly at first, and then erratic. With the Hound inside clawing its way out, and the guard watching our every move, I had no choice but to summon every bit of essence I could, anything to shake him from the stupor. I closed my eyes, thinking up thunderstorms, rainclouds, anything to jolt him into focus. Lightning crawled along my arm, and finally, a tinge of smoke emerged from my fingers—an ashy blotch sizzling on his skin.

“Ow!” he yelped, cursing.

The commander was unimpressed. He leaped back, his hands resting between his robes before a shiny object twinkled in his hands. “Move away from the Hound.”

Click.

As if by magic, the man tossed the object into the air, only for it to hover in place. What looked like an emerald lighter floated before him, before carefully lowering itself into his hands Connor balked, “Are you putting on a magic show? What kind of Immortal are you—”

Click.

Before he could finish, a bright blue light shot out of the lighter, basking trees and steps and stone as it singed the air. The sky panged red, booming with essence, before glowing with every color of the rainbow as a heavy mist swashed over us.

If this guy has an authentic Faraphax relic, he’s way more dangerous than I thought.

Before his magic worsened, I pulled Connor by his collar and screamed into his ear. “Listen, if I’m not mistaken, that lighter is hero’s relic. . . meaning it’s one of the few objects entrusted to the top Faraphax guard. I don’t know what this guy’s plan is, but whatever he does, you cannot engage. And no matter what, do NOT look into the—"

BOOM.

A dozen skeletal fingers emerged from the ground, so veiny and translucent I almost thought they were worms before the arms pulled themselves off the ground. Each detached hand carried its own brand of fire like a moth overhead, and the more that spawned, the more the fire merged into each other, congregating into a typhoon.

The commander chuckled then snapped his fingers as a new hand emerged, this time bluer and meatier than the skeletal hands before. Worse, this hand was attached to a body, with limbs, wings, and spiraling flames.

We were faced with a bonafide demon. It looked the part of a steaming geyser as it shot through the ground, casually dusting itself off before shooting to the sky. Flying overhead, it screamed with its voice shrill and eyes desperate. Spotting the ball of flames, the thing licked its lips.

“Go ahead, boy.” The officer called, signaling to the demon that his summoned typhoon was no weapon, but a meal. The demon raced toward it, devouring the entire ball of flames in mere seconds.

With that, the officer turned to us. “Time to look away.”

Sure enough, the demon’s belly grew. And grew, and grew.

And popped.

This time there was no boom. This time, there was only a howl. Gales of wind slapped against my face like marbled softballs, drowning out my voice as I screamed for Connor to look away. He ignored me, choosing to look straight it before falling to the floor as flames cascaded all around us, red-hot blobs merging into cobalt blue.

Of course, the demon was only made of magic. With each blob grasping at one another, reforming into his image, I realized we had no chance. The demon could not die.

And I couldn’t either, not with the power of my father running through my veins. I was safe, the officer was safe, and the demon was inhuman, but Connor. . .

Fuck.

I looked to my left, searching for him as my eyes darted all around the floor, then to the officer and finally to the demon. I frantically looked over shadowed trees and spiraling stairs, feeling any remnant of sanity flee me as my mind scattered into a million tiny pieces.

Worrying didn’t help. No matter where I looked, no matter how much I sulked or cried or even strained my essence, I just couldn’t find him.

All that was left was ash.