Chapter 4

I stormed out of the office building, the cool autumn air hitting me like a slap to the face. I needed the slap. Hell, I deserved it after wasting an hour of my life listening to those corporate tools talk down to me like I was some punk-ass kid.

I could still see their smug faces, hear their rehearsed condescension: Your look doesn’t fit our corporate culture. I scoffed, pulling my jacket tighter around me. It wasn’t like I expected the job to go well, but fuck, did they have to be so—so smug?

Every step fueled my anger. My nails dug into my palms as I replayed the interview over and over in my head. “I swear to fucking God,” I muttered, each word coming out between gritted teeth. I didn’t need this shit. I needed a damn drink, a lobotomy, or maybe—

“They didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as you,” a voice purred into my thoughts, smooth and sharp like a well-polished blade.

I stopped dead in my tracks, my heart lurching in my chest. What the hell? I looked around, expecting to see someone smirking at me, maybe a prankster trying to mess with me—but no one was there. Everyone was just going about their day.

I shook my head, trying to clear it. Maybe the stress had finally made me lose it. First the shitty interview, now I was hearing voices. Great. Next, I’d be wandering around with a tinfoil hat.

I took a deep breath and started walking again, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching me—no, not watching—with me, like they were inside my head.

“You’re not imagining things, doll.” The voice—his voice—came back, laced with amusement, dark and smug. “No one else can hear me. Just you.”

My stomach dropped. “Fuck,” I whispered, eyes wide as I glanced around again, this time a little more frantic. I wasn’t crazy, right? Right?

The voice chuckled. “Not crazy, no. Though you are… interesting.”

“Who the fuck are you?” I whispered under my breath, trying to keep my cool. My pulse hammered in my ears, and the chilly air suddenly felt suffocating.

“Call me Caspian.” There it was again—that damn smirk I could almost feel in my bones.

“Caspian?” I muttered, trying to connect the dots. “The hell kind of name is that?” I rubbed my temple, hoping that maybe if I ignored it long enough, it’d stop. Like a bad dream.

“One you’ll be hearing a lot more of, doll.” His voice dripped with confidence, smooth and intoxicating, and for a second, I almost forgot I was freaked the hell out.

This can’t be happening… I shook my head again, trying to focus on anything but the voice. Maybe I was just imagining it. Maybe I just needed a good night’s sleep. Or therapy. Or both.

But the voice… it didn’t go away.

The flames flickered in Lucian’s chambers, casting strange shadows on the stone walls. I leaned back in my seat, staring blankly at the map sprawled across the table in front of us. Some new demon territory shift. Some political maneuver I couldn’t care less about.

Lucian drummed his fingers against the table, eyeing me with a smirk. “Are you even paying attention, Caspian?”

I didn’t look up, instead tracing a finger along the rough edges of the map. “I don’t need to listen to know the plan. Take territory, kill anyone who steps out of line, rinse and repeat. Nothing new.”

Lucian’s smirk deepened, his sharp eyes gleaming. “You oversimplify, as usual. We’re not just taking territory this time. We’re securing alliances. This one’s going to require a softer touch.”

I raised an eyebrow, finally meeting his gaze. “Since when are we known for ‘soft touches’?”

He laughed, a dark sound that echoed through the chamber. “We’re not. But you, my dear Caspian, have a particular skill set that might be…persuasive. These demons we’re dealing with—Sable’s lot—they’ll come around if given the right incentive. If they think they’re winning.”

“And you want me to play nice?” I asked, leaning forward now, intrigued despite myself.

“Not exactly,” Lucian said, his grin turning predatory. “I want you to play dangerous. Make them think they’re in control, and then remind them who holds the leash. But no open threats. Not yet.”

I snorted. “So you want a mind game.”

“Exactly. You’re good at those.”

I settled back into my chair, drumming my fingers on the table in thought. I wasn’t exactly opposed to the plan. Games like this…they appealed to me. But something was off. The nagging pull of the bond hummed beneath my skin, a distraction I couldn’t afford.

Lucian leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as he studied me. “What’s got you distracted, Cas? I can tell when your head’s somewhere else.”

I smirked, brushing him off. “Nothing that concerns you.”

Lucian arched an eyebrow, but didn’t press. He never did—unless it directly interfered with his plans. “Just make sure you’re focused when it matters. These demons will only respect you if they think you’re two steps ahead.”

“I’m always ahead,” I said with a sharp smile, though my mind wasn’t on Lucian’s scheming anymore. “I’ll handle it.”

“Good.” Lucian rose from his seat, stretching his arms as if this entire conversation had bored him. “You’re free for the night. Just be ready when I call on you.”

I nodded, my thoughts already elsewhere as Lucian dismissed me with a wave. He turned toward the window, gazing out at the blackened landscape of Hell, but I didn’t care for the view. My attention was split between the flames crackling in the hearth and the girl I couldn’t shake from my thoughts.

Daphne.

The bond had anchored her in my mind, like a string pulling me back to her no matter how far I wandered. And right now? It was pulling hard. Too hard to ignore.

I left Lucian’s chambers without another word, slipping into the familiar shadows of the underworld. The realm around me twisted and shifted, but my destination was clear. I needed answers, and I was done waiting for them to come to me.

By the time I reached her place, the moon was high, casting a pale light over her small, rundown house. I slipped inside effortlessly, the shadows swallowing my form as I moved silently through the hall. The pull of the bond was stronger here, more intimate.

Daphne lay sprawled across her bed, her black hair a mess of waves against the pillow, the faint rise and fall of her chest drawing my attention. I watched her for a moment, eyes lingering on the sharp curve of her collarbone peeking from beneath her shirt. She looked so…vulnerable.

I should’ve felt nothing. But that damn bond was already fucking with my head.

I knelt beside her bed, careful not to make a sound. Her lips parted slightly, and she murmured something in her sleep, her brows furrowing as if caught in a dream. Curiosity sparked in me. What did a mortal like her dream about?

Without a second thought, I slipped into her mind through the bond, easing my way into her dreams. The sensation was…strange. Her consciousness was chaotic, flickering from one thought to the next, her emotions raw and unfiltered.

Images swirled—fragments of her life, memories blurred by sleep. Her old house, her grandmother’s shrill voice berating her. Shadows of her past, tangled with anger and frustration. And then there were darker dreams. Nightmarish landscapes, twisted creatures lurking in the corners of her mind.

She was used to fear. That much was clear.

But it wasn’t the fear that intrigued me—it was the way she responded to it. Where most mortals would shrink away from the horrors in their dreams, Daphne stood her ground, glaring back at the nightmares with a dark, twisted smile. She welcomed it. Thrived on it.

I couldn’t help but smirk. She was more than I’d anticipated.

As I pulled back from her mind, I glanced around her room, taking in the scattered objects that gave me a glimpse into her life. Posters of horror films, stacks of books, a few broken trinkets. A cracked mirror on the wall reflected my shadowed form, but I didn’t care about being seen.

I already knew what I needed to do next.

Standing, I watched her for one last moment before vanishing into the night. Whatever was going on between us, I was going to figure it out. But first? I needed to make sure she stayed alive long enough for me to unravel this mess.