Page 18 of The Darkest Knight

Once satisfied he was clean, he accepted a drying cloth from a servant and went to find fresh clothes.

After a hearty meal and plenty of ale, Niall could barely keep his eyes open. He prayed for a reprise from Devina, as he knew it would be impossible to stay awake.

The familiar dampness of the dungeon crept through Niall’s clothing, the icy moisture clinging to his skin like a second layer. The fetid stench of rot and decay curled into his nostrils, forcing him to gag. Blind in the oppressive darkness, he groped his way toward the rough stone wall, leaning against its cold surface to steady himself.

An uneasy stillness hung in the air, unnatural and foreboding. Devina’s guards were usually swift, their heavy footsteps echoing before they even reached him. But now, only silence answered. His heart pounded in the hollow of his chest, each beat bringing rising dread.

A faint shuffle broke the quiet. Niall froze, his senses straining toward the sound. Torchlight flickered ahead, throwing grotesque shadows across the damp cell walls.

“She’s nae here,” a gravelly voice rumbled from the darkness, rough and callous. The figure holding the torch stepped closer, revealing a hulking, rotund man with bleary eyes and a cruel smile. “I donna ken when she’ll return.”

“Then why am I here?” Niall demanded, his voice steady despite the threat before him.

The guard sneered, stepping closer to the bars. His grimy fingers curled around a whip hanging from his belt, its straps ending in jagged, rusted hooks. “I suppose I can still torture ye. Devina’s nae here to stop me.”

“She must be near, else I wouldn’t be here,” Niall said sharply, his gaze unwavering.

The man chuckled, a low, malevolent sound. “Did ye nae hear me? She left.” He began to unlock the cell door with deliberate slowness, savoring Niall’s tension.

Niall edged closer to the door, weighing his options. He could outrun the heavy man—if the opportunity arose. But before he could act, another guard appeared, tall and wiry, his expression grim.

“Our Mistress has returned and wishes to speak to him first,” the newcomer said, his tone clipped. He shoved the door open, gesturing for Niall to follow.

As Niall stepped out, the hulking guard grinned, revealing rotting teeth. “Aye, I’ll be here waitin’ for ye.” He hefted the whip, letting the cruel hooks dangle menacingly.

The guard escorted Niall to a room that was blindingly bright, the stark contrast to the dungeon almost disorienting. The whitewashed walls gleamed with a false purity, and carefully curated illusions.

Devina stood by a massive window, her silhouette framed against an ocean view he knew was fabricated. Everything about her was deliberate: the thin linen dress clinging to her curves, the way the light danced around her, the coy tilt of her head as she turned to face him. Her beauty was a weapon, as calculated as the cruelty she wielded.

“You haven’t slept,” she said, her tone laced with amusement. “Do you really think staying awake keeps me away from you?”

Niall kept his gaze fixed beyond her, refusing to engage.

“Tell me,” she murmured, stepping closer, her voice like poisoned honey. “Did you not miss me? You belong to me and only me.”

She circled him, her fingers grazing his shoulder, sending an icy dread down his spine. She leaned in, her breath warm against his ear. “We should have a child, Niall. What do you think about that? An offspring, a product of our joining. Will that make you happy?”

Niall’s jaw tightened, his hatred for her burning brighter than his fear. This was his nightmare—to be trapped here, to have the others above believe him dead, to be buried alive in this cursed realm with her forever.

“You tensed,” Devina observed, her lips curling into a cruel smile. “The thought terrifies you, doesn’t it?” She moved in front of him, her gaze locking on his. “But you’ll join me in bed. And—” Her words cut off, and her nostrils flared. She leaned closer, sniffed. and without warning, she slapped him hard across the face. When he didn’t react, she splayed her fingers, palm in his direction sending a burst of energy that felt like a huge boulder flattening his face.

“You bastard!” she shrieked.

Warm blood trickled down his chin from his nose and split lip. Niall remained still. His lack of emotion was not something he had to force, because in reality, he’d stopped caring what she did. For a long time, he’d lost the ability to fear death or suffering.

“You fucked someone. Do not try to deny it,” she hissed, her voice venomous. “I will find her and when I do, you will watch as I torture her.”

When he didn’t respond, Devina hit Niall again, her fury unbridled.

Devina let out an unhuman screech, her eyes burned red, and her dress transformed into a murky gray, hanging limp on her now much thinner body.

Despite seeing her react to the many times he’d rejected her, this time her transformation was shocking. Niall took a step backward. What stood before him was a demon, there was no doubt in his mind. The being stretched until about a foot taller than him, and Devina’s face sunk into the bones of a skull that was elongated, long teeth filling the gap of its mouth. Long skinny arms hung down past its knees, the long talons at the tips almost touching the floor. Feet like hooves and a hunched back made for a terrifying sight.

Devina turned away for a moment, seeming almost as if not expecting to have shown her true form. Then screeching again, the sound like that of many voices, Devina whirled to face him. “You will pay.”

The guards rushed into the room their heads swiveling between the demon and Niall.

“Take him,” she commanded, her now deep voice dripping with malevolence. “Beat him until he passes out. Then wake him and start again.”