The corridor shuddered.
Dust rained from above as slow, deliberate footsteps approached through the ancient stone halls. Elira's pulse tightened. Beside her, Ravion's face darkened.
"They're inside," he muttered.
Elira glanced at him, breath catching. "You said no one could breach the barrier."
"They didn't break it," he said grimly. "Someone opened it."
"Why would a priest risk crossing into your realm?"
Ravion didn't answer at first. He stared at the worn stones beneath their feet. Then he met her gaze. "Because he thinks you're worth it. Or worse… someone told him you were."
They stepped into the outer chamber just as two figures emerged from the mist of displaced dust and smoke.
First, a priest in silver armor etched with shimmering runes a purger, undoubtedly. His sword glinted, holy light pulsing along its edge.
Behind him came a woman, darker blood-magic in her veins. Silver rings adorned her nose, half her face hidden beneath a hood. Elira felt the shift an immediate, cruel cold wrapped around her like a vise.
Ravion stiffened. "Shadowbinder," he growled. "Stay behind me."
"I can handle cold," Elira retorted, voice steady.
"You've never fought one," he warned.
"Neither one bound to a demon," she said, eyes burning.
He smirkedn weakly.
"We've found her," the priest declared, his eyes zeroing in on Elira.
He moved first, blade raised, stabbing forward with ablative holy intent. "You've strayed far, witch. Release the devil. You'll be granted a clean death."
Elira almost laughed. "I don't take orders from ghosts in metal suits."
Ravion's fire sprang to life around his fist. "You touch her, I burn your soul to ash."
The priest remained unmoved. He watched her, voice calm. "You are already damned, Ravion. She just made it permanent."
That voice triggered something deep in Elira. The binder stepped forward. "You summoned something you can't control." Her tone was cold, clinical.
"My second mistake was letting you speak," Elira replied.
She raised her hand. Flame coalesced, red and gold.
The purger lunged his attack fast, true. Ravion countered in a roar of flame. Sparks flew as runic steel collided with infernal heat.
Elira spun, her focus on the binder as she rolled aside. She unleashed a whip of red flame. It cut through the shadow and struck the binder in the chest. She howled, staggering back. But behind her, a shift something moved in the deeper shadows.
A third figure stepped forward: a demon Ravion had summoned days before, hidden until now Lysandros, a subordinate of Ravion. His form was tall and lean, horn-tipped, with coal-dark skin and eyes like liquid mercury. His presence rippled the chamber's air.
Ravion's fire faded long enough for a flicker of surprise. But only a flicker.
Without hesitation, Lysandros struck.
The shadowbinder screamed again as Lysandros wrapped her in chains of smoky tendrils. They tightened, silencing her voice. Lysandros pulled her close a single whispered word and she convulsed, her scream cut short as her life was drained.
Elira watched, heart pounding, as the body collapsed. She hadn't seen that power before Ravion's lesser demon, lethal and absolute.
The priest's blade was still against Ravion's throat, the runes melting. Elira pressed forward and lunged her open palm at the priest's sword. A burst of flame shattered the metal. The blade cracked and snapped. The runes fizzled and popped like dying stars. The purger staggered back, eyes wide.
Ravion shoved him to the ground with a wave of fire. Elira stepped forward, fire humming, and touched her burning hand to his chest. The priest screamed as flame consumed holy metal and flesh alike. In moments, he was reduced to ash, his remnants drifting to the floor.
Silence fell. Elira and Ravion stood side by side. Lysandros remained behind them, motionless, watching.
Elira's chest heaved. "They knew about the bond."
Ravion nodded. "Once the priests smelled infernal magic, they came. You're their target."
She wiped ash from her cheek. "Thanks for the warning."
He watched her, gaze intense. "You're angry at me?"
She spun toward him. Fury rose. "Of course! You said I'd be safe."
"I said—safe with me. The temple's old. It's crumbling."
"Maybe," she said sharply. "But you—you have cracks too, you keep saying nothing matters. Then you burn them alive."
His eyes flicked to Lysandros, who stayed motionless.
She pressed on. "So what is it, Ravion? Am I your burden or your responsibility?"
His jaw tightened, "You think I protect you out of guilt?"
"I don't know what to think." She took a step closer "One minute you mock me, the next you risk everything."
"You don't want me to care?" he asked quietly.
"I don't want to be confused." Her voice shook. "I've lost everything—my coven, my place. Now hunters come for me. And I don't know what I am… why this bond means so much."
They stared at each other. Then Ravion spoke, voice low: "Then figure it out. Get stronger but don't expect me to lead you."
She narrowed her eyes. "I never asked you to."
He paused. "No? Then stop acting like I owe you answers. You chose this you summoned me and you made the pact."
Elira's face darkened. "Because I was desperate. Not because I trusted you."
He snapped back "Good. I'm not here to be trusted. I'm your demon and that means consequences."
Angry tears in her eyes, she stepped forward. "Then stop pretending that you don't care what happens to me."
"I don't." His voice was flat.
The lie screamed between them.
She turned on her heel, the corridor stretching ahead like a wound. "If I find you lied about the bond—about anything—I'll make you regret it."
He did not answer.
She strode away, each step echoing. Ravion remained, silent, torn.
Lysandros watched her go, lips curled in a hint of worry.
And for the first time since the summoning,
Ravion didn't know what to say.