She doesn’t struggle, doesn’t move, doesn’t blink—just stares blankly at the opposite wall, her pupils dilated. The substance I gave her earlier was laced with arachnyx venom—just enough to dampen her powers and make her numb to whatever pain Slaine plans to inflict. The venom paralyzes the nerves, but it also delivers a powerful hallucinogenic into the system, leaving the victim immobilized, both body and mind. But just because she won’t feel anything and won’t remember doesn’t take away any of the remorse coursing through my blood.

“I hate you, Malice. And I always—always—will.”

Her words play in my mind as clearly as if she just uttered them and twice as painful. Dagny has every reason to despise me, every reason to want me dead. And if I thought my death would secure her safety, it would already be arranged. If I thought there was any other way than this…

No. I’ve run through all the different paths and outcomes, and none exist.

I keep my eyes locked on Dagny, unblinking for fear the moment I do everything will fall apart—that her demon will emerge and Slaine will slaughter her before I have the chance to do anything about it.

The bond thumbs rapidly as I watch Zairn step toward her with a large curved knife, his lipless mouth peeled back in a revolting sneer. I have no way of knowing what he says to her, but her lack of reaction eases some of the tension in my shoulders. The venom is working. Good.

Zairn’s skin turns purple in anger as he raises the blade above his head, but before he can lower it, two of Slaine’s soldiers rush forward, grabbing his arms and stopping him from inflicting his death blow. Slaine barks an order from the corner of the room, and Zairn is hauled away from Dagny and out of the room. He kicks, screams, and fights, but is much too weak to do anything against two Naif warriors in their prime.

Good. He reacted just the way I thought he would.

My eyes flit from Dagny toward Slaine, and I let out a deep sigh of relief to see he’s falling into line just as planned. The false demon lord holds out a pale hand, grinning maliciously as a small paring knife is placed into his palm. His fingers curl lovingly around the hilt as he stalks toward Dagny, his head lowered and shoulders taut as he closes in on his prey.

Filthy scavenger.

My lip curls back as Slaine stops in front of Dagny, running the edge of the blade lightly across her forearm. Instead of the fear he’s expecting, Dagny just stares off into the distance, her gaze covered in a misty film due to the influence of the venom.