Chapter 76 To Barter with a Demon
(Adelaide)
Adelaide waited a beat, tasting his name, before she pushed for more.
“And you… what? Guard the door? Patrol the corridors and listen to prisoners scream?” she demanded.
His lips twitched, but it didn’t quite become a smile.
“I guard him,” Cael said. “Which includes his walls. His wards. His secrets.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Am I one of those secrets?”
“Yes,” he said without hesitation.
The answer hit like a slap and a strange comfort all at once. Being hidden meant being in danger. It also meant she mattered enough to hide. Both truths scraped at her ribs.
“So there are other demons who don’t know I’m here?” she asked.
“Most don’t,” Cael replied. “The king has cleared the palace of almost everyone. Only a handful remain. They aren’t told more than they need.”
“And you?” she pushed. “How much do you know?”
He studied her for a long moment.
“I know that a mortal girl erupted in living flame in the Devil’s bed and survived,” he said. “I know he locked her in his chambers and ordered the palace sealed. I know scholars died trying to explain it to him. And I know that anything that makes him that… unsettled… is something the rest of us should pay attention to.”
She had to fight to keep her breathing steady. “He looked… unsettled?” she asked, unable to keep the hunger for that detail from her voice.
Cael’s gaze flicked over her face, reading too much. “You’re surprised by the idea?” he asked.
“He’s the Devil,” she said flatly. “He enjoys hurting things. He doesn’t get unsettled.”
Cael’s eyes burned a little brighter.
“You have been around him for days,” he said quietly. “You already know that’s not true.”
Her chest tightened. She hated that this stranger was right. Images flashed, uninvited: Apollo’s shaking hands when her flames first appeared, the fracture in his voice when he told her to look at him, the way his gaze sometimes lingered like he was afraid to blink.
He nodded at her makeshift dress, then, as if sensing she needed something else to focus on.
“You’ve been… creative,” he observed.
Adelaide glanced down self-consciously. “I got tired of being naked,” she snapped. “He may like it, but I don’t.”
For the first time, something like genuine amusement flickered across Cael’s face. “I doubt the king has ever considered mortal modesty a priority,” he said.
“Well, he should try it,” she muttered. “Feels less like you’re on display for his amusement.”
Cael’s gaze sharpened at that—not because of the nudity, she realised, but because of the word.
“On display?” he asked.
She lifted her chin, heart pounding. “He watched me,” she said. “From that wall. Just like you. He hid and watched.”
Cael’s eyes flicked to the seam that marked the secret panel, then back. “Did he?” he said softly. There was something cold and satisfied in his tone she didn’t understand. It was the sound of a man filing information away like a weapon.
Adelaide wrapped her arms tighter around herself. “If he finds out you were here…” she said slowly.
“I know what happens,” Cael cut in. “Trust me. I am not here lightly.”
“So why risk it?” she demanded. “What do you want from me?”
Another long pause.
He took a slow breath—unnecessary for a demon, she thought, which meant it was a choice. A way to buy himself time.
“I want to stay alive,” he said at last. “And the only way to do that is to understand whatever has the Devil so… concerned. If you burn this palace down from the inside, my chances of survival drop significantly.”
She stared.
“That’s it?” she asked. “Self-preservation?”
“Is there a better motivator?” he countered.
She thought of the night in the forest. Of Lyra’s name on the Elder’s lips. Of her mother’s face. Of her own feet stepping forward anyway.
“Yes,” she said quietly. “There is.”
Something flickered in his expression. Not quite guilt. Not quite respect. Something thoughtful. For a heartbeat, the ember-flecks in his eyes seemed to brighten, like some old memory had turned its head.
He doesn’t understand, she realised. Or he doesn’t want to.
Good. Don’t trust him.
Still, he was here. He wasn’t Apollo. And he was looking at her like she was something more than an object to be used. More than an inconvenience. More than a toy.
She swallowed.
“Can you let me out?” she asked abruptly.
His jaw tightened. “No,” he said.
Hope flared, then splintered.
“Can you take me back to the mortal world?” she pressed.
“Definitely not,” he said. “Even if I could slip you past the palace wards, the mark on your neck would drag you back the moment you crossed the veil. He’s bound you to this realm. To him.”
Her fingers flew to the bite without thinking, touching the crescent of healing skin. It pulsed once under her touch, a low, stubborn ache that felt too much like agreement.
“And there’s no way to break it?” she whispered.
He watched her carefully. “Not one that leaves you alive,” he said.
The room swayed for a second. She dug her nails into her own skin to stay grounded. The sting in her arms was a small, welcome pain compared to the cliff that had just opened under her future.
“Then why are you here?” she muttered. “If you can’t let me out and can’t take me home, what good are you?”
“Food,” he said calmly. “Information. Clothes. Warnings, if I hear something that might concern you. And perhaps,” his gaze cooled, “perspective. You are trapped, but you are not powerless.”
She laughed, sharp and humourless.
“Could’ve fooled me,” she said. “The last time I tried anything, I ended up on fire.”
“Yes,” he said. “You did.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You sound almost pleased about that.”
“Not pleased,” he said. “Interested.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” she snapped.
“No,” he said. “But it’s honest.”
She held his gaze.
He did not look away. That alone set him apart from most demons she’d seen— even Apollo, for all his invasive staring, looked through her half the time, like she was a puzzle piece or a prophecy or something he hadn’t agreed to want.
Cael looked at her. Like a person. It unnerved her. It also made something in her chest loosen, just a fraction, like a window cracking open in a sealed room.
“Fine,” she said tightly. “If you’re so honest, let’s make a deal.”
One dark brow lifted. “You’re bargaining with a demon?”
“I’m locked in the Devil’s bedroom,” she said. “I think that ship has sailed.”
His mouth tugged at the corner. Almost a smile. Almost.
“What do you propose?” he asked.
“You said he’d be furious if he found you here,” she said. “If you help me—bring me clothes that aren’t made out of his fur, tell me what’s happening out there, warn me if he… changes again—I won’t tell him about you.”
“You think he doesn’t already know?” Cael asked quietly.
The question stiffened every muscle in her body.
“Does he?” she asked, voice small.
Cael’s gaze softened by a fraction. “No,” he said. “Not yet. He has been… occupied.”