Sold To The Demon King by Lindsey Devin

Author:Lindsey Devin [Devin, Lindsey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-12-10T16:00:00+00:00

19

NATASHA

“Excuse me,” I said woodenly and walked out of the room. I wasn’t sure how I managed to make it up the stairs without tripping. My feet felt incredibly far away from my head, like they belonged to someone else. I felt concussed or stupefied, like some sort of zombie. Domenico called out something after me, but I was too fuzzy to process it, let alone try to respond with anything reasonable. My head was a tight ball of roaring sound, and everything I thought I knew had been completely upended. Who the hell was I? What was I? Had anything I’d done in the past decade been my choice at all? I felt so used, betrayed on every side.

I went to my stupid, fancy room and locked the door. Collapsing on the bed, I hugged a pillow to my aching stomach and wrapped myself rightly around it. I thought about the last ten years of my life. An entire decade of lies. My cheeks were damp, and I realized distantly that I was crying. I hadn’t cried since I’d lost my parents, more than ten long years of bottling everything up. I cried a long time, right into my now-soaking wet pillow. I just wanted someone to hold me and tell me it would be all right, but the only person around who might be able to do that was part of the problem. I let out a hiccupping sob that shook my whole body.

After a while I sat up in search of tissues and realized that the room was piled with boxes. Apparently, while I had been exploring the house earlier, someone had brought over my things from the penthouse. Not just from the penthouse, I suddenly realized, but from my home, too. Suddenly full of an almost manic energy, I got off the bed. Would it be there? It had to be.

I wiped my cheeks furiously with my hands and went over to the piles. Not a single box was labeled, of course, and I had to tear quite a few of them open before I found what I was looking for. But finally, there it was: a beaten-up green journal. Elena’s journal. She’d given it to me when she found out about her cancer diagnosis. I flipped through the worn, familiar pages. I’d read this thing so many damn times. Elena had written down a lot about her life over the years, but she’d never once mentioned my parents or their time together as a hunter clan. How could she have kept this from me? How could she have lied to me all these years? Had she ever even cared about me? Or had I always been just a means to an end for her, her very own private tool for vengeance? Rage and grief bubbled up in my chest, and I threw the book at a tastefully decorated wall, knocking a probably expensive painting crooked.

Unexpected movement caught my eye, and I looked more closely. Something white was fluttering down from the book.

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