DARK
The moment I released her, the world felt… wrong. Not silent. Not empty.
Just...wrong.
Iryna stood in the center of the living room, swaying slightly as the last shimmering threads of teleportation settled around her like dying embers. The warm, cloying scent of lavender and chamomile clung to the walls—human, fragile, comforting in a way that grated against every instinct I possessed. My hands had lingered at her waist longer than necessary. I told myself it was precaution—ensuring the Anchor remained stable after the spatial fold.
A lie.
It had everything to do with the heat of her body beneath my palms. The way her pulse fluttered like a trapped bird beneath thin skin. The way her breath hitched when my thumbs brushed the sensitive dip above her hips. I could feel the Anchor purring in response—mine, always mine—reaching for me through her fragile mortal frame.
I stepped back.
The instant distance formed between us, the tug returned—faint but insistent. Not in my chest. The Anchor was not housed in me. It lived inside her. Yet it was still mine—born from my essence, torn from me centuries ago by creatures too cowardly to kill me outright. Even separated by walls and air, I could feel it like a distant echo of my own heartbeat.
And that echo was currently glaring at me like she wanted to drive a blade between my ribs.
"I'll be fine from here," she muttered, brushing invisible dust from her sleeves in a gesture so human, so futile, it almost amused me.
I studied her quietly. Stubborn. Defiant. Beautiful in her rage.
"Call if the pain returns," I told her.
She laughed—dry, breathless, edged with exhaustion. "Like I have your number."
My mouth curved slowly. I let the shadows curl at the edges of my vision.
"Oh come now, little mortal." My voice dropped, intimate, teasing. "You know you don't need it."
Her eyes narrowed. She opened her mouth to snap back—
I let the darkness swallow me before the words could leave her lips. The human house vanished. Reality bent, tore, reformed.
I reappeared in the shattered courtyard of my fortress—black stone cracked beneath my boots, silver light still fading from the tear the Pure warrior had left behind. Blood coated my tongue again. Thick. Metallic. Annoying.
I barely took two steps before the air ripped open once more. Not subtle. Not polite. A violent fracture of blinding silver light tore through the night sky like a wound in the fabric of existence. The Pure Realm's signature—arrogant, searing, holy.
I sighed. Predictable. A figure stepped through the tear. Tall. Radiant. Clad in armor that gleamed like frozen starlight. Ethereal wings of light shimmered at his shoulders—half manifestation, half threat. A pure warrior? I scoffed.
His eyes—cold, silver—locked on me.
"Dark."
I stood motionless.
"What do you want, little warrior?" My voice was flat. Bored.
He studied me with the careful scrutiny of someone who remembered exactly what I was capable of.
"You vanish for centuries," he said slowly, "and now you return." His gaze sharpened. "And you hide." He took one step forward. "What are you hiding?"
As predicted. The high pure council had started sniffing around. They must have already sensed the awakening of the anchor. The fools tried to seal it away for centuries but it's a part of me. And every part of me was determined and stubborn. I'm sure they wouldn't expect it to hide in a mortal.
I tilted my head.
"You overestimate your importance," I said calmly. "If I were hiding something, you would not be standing here asking polite questions. What is it, your people are scared of my return? Tell Axyria that he shouldn't be." I grinned.
His jaw tightened and I saw the unease on his face.
"The pure realm only wants peace. You expect us to believe you are up to no evil?"
I didn't dignify the question with an answer. Instead I let it happen—slowly, deliberately. Dark power rolled off me like a tide swallowing the shore. Not all of it. Just enough. Enough to make the air tremble. Enough to make the stones beneath our feet groan. Enough to remind him who he was speaking to.
The warrior lifted his hand. Light gathered—brilliant, violent, pure. The boldness of him to even try. The spear of condensed sunlight launched toward me. I did not move. I raised one hand. The world froze for a single heartbeat. Then the light struck my palm.
And stopped. Not shattered. Not deflected. Stopped. The force ground against the barrier I formed—light warring with darkness, sparks raining down like dying stars. Pain lanced through my chest—sharp, burning—as I channeled what little true blood I still possessed to reinforce the shield. My veins felt like molten iron.
I did not flinch. I clenched my fingers. The spear shattered into a thousand fading sparks. Silence fell across the courtyard. The Pure warrior stared at me. Fear flickered in his silver eyes—but suspicion burned brighter. He knew my reputation. I did not block attacks. I erased enemies with a single snap of my fingers.
The fact that I had defended myself… meant weakness. I had to bury that suspicion immediately. I summoned the darkest fragment of my original power. Black mist bled from beneath my skin, thin at first, then thickening into something alive—shadow threaded with crimson light. It crawled along my arm like liquid smoke, pulsing with the ancient force my current body struggled to contain.
The air grew heavy.
The shadow snapped forward before the warrior could move. It coiled around his body like a serpent, lifting him off the ground as if he weighed nothing.
His eyes widened.
"No—"
The darkness tightened. A thin spike of it pushed through his armor and plunged straight into his chest. The warrior screamed. The sound tore across the courtyard as the shadow burrowed deeper, wrapping around his heart and squeezing—not enough to kill him instantly, but enough to flood his body with unbearable agony.
I raised my hand slowly. The shadow obeyed. It lifted him higher, his limbs thrashing uselessly as pain ripped through him.
"Is this," I said coldly, "the courage the Pure Realm sends against me?"
The warrior gasped, choking on his own scream. I clenched my fist. The darkness squeezed once more—harder this time. His body convulsed violently. Then I flicked my hand. The shadow released him and hurled him across the courtyard like broken glass. He slammed into the stone wall with a sickening crack and collapsed to the ground, writhing and screaming as the lingering darkness burned through his chest.
Good. Let them believe the lie. Let them believe the Demon King still stood before them in full power. Because if they discovered the truth—that my Anchor was missing— it would be very inconvenient for me.
The warrior clawed at the shadow lodged in his chest, his fingers shaking as if he could tear it out. Each attempt only tightened my hold on his heart. I watched him carefully. His breathing became ragged. His back arched as the darkness pulsed inside him, squeezing slowly, deliberately. Pain rippled through him in waves, and I could feel every second of it through the thin thread connecting the shadow to my hand.
Blood spilled from the corner of his mouth. For several moments he remained there, suspended by the darkness gripping his heart like a fist. My shadow slid back toward me, dissolving into the darkness curling around my fingers. The warrior staggered several steps away, breathing like a dying animal. His entire body trembled. Fear had replaced the arrogance in his eyes.
Exactly what I wanted. The fracture sealed. The moment he was gone, the strength bled from my limbs. I staggered. Blood—dark, thick—spilled from my mouth and struck the stone at my feet.
Annoying. Very annoying. A ripple of shadow coalesced beside me.
"Master!"
Kaelthorn stepped forward, expression tight with concern.
"You should not have used your blood. Why didn't you allow us handle him?"
I wiped the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand.
"They suspected and that would have confirmed their suspicion."
"But they would still suspect even after this," he replied.
I leaned against the nearest stone pillar. My chest burned with every breath.
"Yes but they would actually cautiously because it's not confirmed," I said.
"Yes." Kaelthorn's voice was quiet. "Because they would still believe you could be whole." His eyes darkened. "But if they discover the truth…"
He didn't finish. He didn't need to. I straightened slowly.
"My body will hold."
"For how long?" he pressed.
Silence stretched between us.
Kaelthorn sighed.
"You must merge with the Anchor soon."
"I am already working toward it," I said dryly.
"You said the Anchor requires willingness."
"Yes."
His gaze sharpened.
"Then make her willing."
I exhaled slowly.
"That," I said, "is exactly what I am doing."
He folded his arms behind his back.
"Humans are not as stubborn as you think."
I glanced at him.
"Oh?"
"They are stubborn when they fear," he said calmly. "But once they trust… once they care…" His lips curved faintly. "They become remarkably cooperative."
I narrowed my eyes.
"What are you suggesting?"
"Make her fall in love with you."
I stared at him.
"You cannot be serious."
"You do not need to fall in love," he clarified. "You cannot love."
"I am aware," I said flatly.
"The human will fall in love with you," he continued. "And once she does… she will willingly give you what you need."
I considered it. Annoying strategy. But effective.
"I have already proposed a human marriage," I said.
Kaelthorn's brows rose slightly.
"That is… clever, Master."
Naturally.
"But marriage alone will not be sufficient," he added. "The Anchor strengthens through proximity."
"I know." My tone was flat. "I have already begun strengthening the bond. Touching her feeds it. Kissing her deepens it further."
Kaelthorn inclined his head in agreement.
"Yes. Physical contact accelerates the process."
He hesitated for a moment before speaking again.
"There is… another method."
My gaze sharpened.
"What method?"
"In the human world," he said carefully, "intimacy creates the strongest possible proximity."
For a moment I simply stared at him. Then a low laugh escaped me. Dark. Amused.
"You are suggesting I bed a human."
"Yes," he admitted. "But there are consequences."
"Of course there are." I waved the concern away. "And those consequences fall on her, not me."
The idea itself was irritating. A Prime Demon—one whose name once forced entire realms into submission—reduced to seducing a fragile human into his bed?
Absurd.
If I desired pleasure, there were countless lesser and arch female demons eager to offer themselves. Powerful beings who understood exactly what it meant to belong to a creature like me.
But a human?
Why would I degrade myself like that? If I did not require physical contact with her to restore my power, I would not even tolerate the kisses. Even that small act was more than I cared to give.
And yet she fought it. Resisted it. As if I were the only one gaining anything from the contact.
Annoying.
A demon and a human did not join bodies without consequence. It would alter her completely. Strip away pieces of her fragile humanity and bind her permanently to me. Once marked in that way, she would never belong to anything else again. Not that I cared anyway but I could not afford leaving a part of myself in her.
"Regardless," I said coolly, "such an act would require willingness."
Kaelthorn nodded.
"Which returns us to the original solution."
He met my gaze steadily.
"You must make her fall in love with you and she would willingly have sex with you."
Silence followed. Then I shrugged.
"Very well."
Kaelthorn studied me carefully.
"And what will you do," he asked slowly, "once the Anchor restores your full power?"
A slow smile curved across my lips.
"What I intended from the beginning," I said. "Destroy the Pure Realm."
Bitterness flashed briefly through my mind. If I had not entered seclusion to renew my strength, those sanctimonious fools would never have managed to seal me.
"And the human world?" Kaelthorn asked.
"Also destroy it."
The courtyard fell silent.
"And after that?"
I looked at him with faint irritation.
"Then I rule everything, Kaelthorn. Must you ask such obvious questions?"
He bowed his head slightly.
"My apologies, Master. I merely wondered whether your plans had changed."
"And why would they?" I scoffed. "Because a human girl happens to be carrying my Anchor?"
A quiet laugh slipped from my throat.
"I will reclaim what is mine. Then I will destroy this world along with the rest. There is nothing complicated about that."
Kaelthorn hesitated.
"But the girl would still be connected to you after the Anchor returns."
I grinned.
"No, she would not."
His confusion was immediate.
"Once the Anchor returns to me, the human body sustaining it will fail," I explained calmly. "Her survival is dependent on my power. Remove that power, and the vessel collapses."
"But… you told her a fragment of your power would remain inside her."
"I did."
"And demons cannot break promises."
I shook my head slowly.
"I never made a promise."
His brow furrowed.
"It was not sealed," I continued. "Why would I leave a fragment of my own power inside a human when I intend to destroy the world? That would be the same as destroying myself."
I scoffed softly.
"No. Once I reclaim the Anchor, she will die along with the rest of this fragile realm."
"And besides," I added lazily, "she does not understand how demonic promises function. If a vow is not sealed, it does not bind me."
Understanding dawned across Kaelthorn's face.
"I see."
"I am not a fool, Kaelthorn."
I straightened from the pillar.
"Enough of this pointless discussion. Are there any problems within the realm?"
He shook his head.
"Nothing I and the other Sovereigns cannot manage."
"Good."
My voice hardened.
"If any demon is foolish enough to repeat the mistake of those traitors who helped the Pure Realm seal me… they will learn exactly what that choice costs."
My eyes darkened.
"No one crosses me."
Kaelthorn lowered his gaze. Silence stretched for a moment before another thought surfaced.
"You entered the human girl's dream."
His head lifted immediately.
"I—"
"You thought I would not notice?" I asked mildly.
He said nothing.
"I do not object," I continued calmly. "But be careful."
His brows knit together.
"The friend is also human. And she's completely untouched by anything , no anchor, nothing. Just a curious, ignorant mortal."
I watched him carefully.
"And demons interfering with humans too closely invites consequences."
A faint smile appeared on his lips.
"I assure you, Master. I have no interest in the girl. I just felt she might be useful in the nearest future."
"Fair enough."
I turned away.
"I am going to see the human. I was too drained from earlier."
I despised the weakness coiling through my body. To think that I—a being feared across realms—had to rely on a fragile human girl simply to feel whole again.
"I will handle matters here," Kaelthorn said.
Darkness folded around me. Reality twisted. A moment later I stood beside the human building where Iryna lived. I leaned against a tree and waited. Watching the door.
It did not take long. She stepped out of a cab and moved toward the entrance. Still stubborn. Still infuriating. She noticed me the moment the air shifted.
"Why are you following me?" she demanded. "I'm home. Safe. I don't need you right now."
I pushed away from the tree and closed the distance between us. Three steps. That was all it took. She backed up until the brick wall stopped her. I placed my hands on either side of her head, trapping her between my arms. Her heartbeat thundered.
Her breath caught.
"I came," I murmured softly, "to check on my future mother-in-law."
Her lips parted. My gaze dropped to them..Power stirred faintly inside me as the Anchor reacted to her presence. Weak though I was, my body craved the connection. Touching her. Holding her..Taking back what belonged to me. With how unstable my power had become, holding her may not be enough.
My gaze drifted lower. Her chest rose and fell rapidly. I leaned closer. One inch. Two. Our breaths mingled.
Then—
"Iryna?"
A sharp female voice cut through the night. Humans and their dreadful timing. The door behind us opened. Iryna's mother stood in the doorway, staring at the two of us pressed against the wall.
Shock widened her eyes.
"Iryna…" she said slowly.
"What exactly is going on here?"
Panic.Fear. Curiosity. All of it was written clearly across her face.