Zephyra's POV
I thought I was going to die.
There wasn't a single doubt in my mind as I stared at the figure moving toward me, graceful, slow, and sure of herself, like a predator playing with her food.
My back was pressed against the cold tile floor, my palms scraping against it as I scrambled backward, even though there was nowhere left to go. The bucket I'd knocked over earlier was still lying on its side a few feet away, like a useless reminder of how quickly things had spiraled.
The demon took her time walking toward me. I could barely breathe, let alone stand up and run, and even if I tried, the exit was way too far. She'd catch me in two strides because there was no chance I could outrun a damn demon.
My limbs had gone stiff with fear, and my heart was slamming against my ribs like it wanted out.
I was done for.
That thought only deepened when she finally stopped right in front of me, her shadow covering me like a blanket of death, but then I saw her face.
