He was stunning in person. It almost hurt to look at him. Rosalyn’s chest grew hot and she flushed with embarrassment. It was akin to meeting a celebrity when you had their poster on your bedroom wall. She felt exposed under his gaze, like he could see right into her brain, pick apart her thoughts.

And maybe he could—she didn’t know what these demons were capable of.

“What are you?” he asked, somehow sounding more curious and amused than suspicious.

He leaned down, and for a delirious second she thought he was going to kiss her, but he stopped just short of her face, taking in a deep breath through his nose. She was painfully aware of how much of his rock hard body pressed down on her, brain misfiring, then she realized he was smelling her.

At this closeness, she could smell him too, and it was like nothing comparable that she could ever recall. He smelled like a memory. Like how it felt to remember home.

“You’re not...magical at all.”

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

“We cannot linger,” somebody else said, the voice a low rumble.

Rosalyn startled, having been so focused that she hadn’t even realized that there was another demon near them. He stood tall, with gleaming sapphire skin and shining golden horns. It was an odd almost eerie contrast, but nothing compared to the chill his eyes gave her. They were cloudy and pale, as if there were a storm obscuring his pupils. She had no idea where he was looking, if anywhere at all.

His square jaw set, cords of muscle taut in his collarbone and down his bare chiselled chest. “I do not think it can talk. And you’re crushing it.”

“Oh.” The heir—or at least she thought he was the heir, he must be—backed up, sitting back on his haunches and extending his hand as if to offer it to shake.

“She,” Rosalyn said, the flush from her chest warming her cheeks as she babbled. “Her, I’m a her. And I can talk.”

“You can!” he said, and when he smiled she thought she would melt into a puddle.

She couldn’t understand why he was affecting her so much. How a damn drawing of his gorgeous damn face had affected her so much. This was another demon that would want something from her, namely, the item stashed in her gut that she couldn’t get out. Not to mention, she was supposed to draw him out lest Zal haul her back into his clutches to torture her to death multiple times.

The sheer terror of that thought gripped her, quenching whatever had been building in the moment and turning her body to ice. Her face must have paled, because the heir’s brow furrowed and he lowered the hand that she hadn’t managed to shake yet.

“Are you sick?”

Rosalyn couldn’t stop a dry bark of a laugh from exploding from her mouth. “I’m starving and terrified, and yeah, sick. Sick of being starving and terrified.” She snapped her mouth shut. Showing sass to demons had never gotten her anywhere but into trouble.

“The changeling is gone,” the standing demon said, with all the inflection as if he were reporting the weather.

“Figured,” the one in front of her replied.

Rosalyn swallowed another retort. She’d cost them their hunt. Was she going to owe them, too? What if they pitted her right back against Zal? What if—

“What do you eat?” the heir asked. “Can you eat meat? We have lots of meat back at camp.”

Tears suddenly waterfalled down her cheeks, seemingly out of nowhere. There were no sobs, no big shudders, just wetness. They were tears os relief, a relief that flooded her at the thought of meat. Food.

“Tsst, you’re scaring her,” the standing demon scolded, and the heir raised a palm.

“Sorry, I don’t know what you are. You’re small and breakable and made of meat,” he said, the words coming out quickly, “but I promise we’re not gonna eat you.”

Rosalyn laughed, shaking her head, the absurdity of the situation getting the best of her. “I eat meat, I’ll eat fucking anything.” Her breath caught as she choked on the words, any trace of laughter evaporating as she glanced in the direction that the woman had gone. “Except. Maybe not anything.” She shuffled back a bit, cursing her damn libido for distracting her from the intensely real danger posed by these two demons. “Why were you chasing that woman?”

The heir laughed then. “Makes sense that’s what you’d see.” He shook his head. “That was a changeling. They can present themselves differently to different people, even at the same time. Anyway, we weren’t going to kill it. I’m looking for someone important. A changeling could help me find them.”

Rosalyn chewed over that. She wasn’t sure if she should believe him. But she supposed that it didn’t really matter if she believed him or not. She was never going to be safe in this world, not with Zal’s hold on her, and she had to just do what she could to survive and hope for the best.

Hope that maybe someone on the other side could still reach her.

Hope that she wasn’t lost here forever.

Where is Hemlock? The thought flashed into her mind suddenly, chased by a wave of guilt that she hadn’t thought of him until then. A sudden urge to look up hit her full force, and her gaze rose to a high branch, finding her furry companion nestled in the leaves. Stay hidden, she thought, flicking her gaze back down immediately. She didn’t want these two to know where he was, or even that he existed, for that matter. She didn’t need to drag him into this.

“Sorry for fucking it up,” she said, injecting as much sincerity into her tone as she could. If all they saw her as was something small and breakable and easily scared—which, honestly, was pretty much the truth—then she could hopefully use that to her advantage.

This was what Zalrimith had intended, right? He’d said the heir was a bleeding heart that would fall all over himself to protect such a pathetic little thing like her. It wasn’t a stretch to play that part. And if she could do this, if she could complete this mission, then maybe she’d be good with Zal. At this point, he could be her only way out of this place.

If he’d been telling the truth about working on a way home for her. If she could trust him at all. If he hadn’t just been giving her false incentive to get what he wanted.

So many ifs. She rubbed her temples.

“We cannot linger,” the standing demon repeated, and Rosalyn shivered when she realized the heir had been staring at her quietly.

“I’m Rose,” she blurted, internally wincing at her tone. She’d also inadvertently given her real name, her real nickname that only KC called her. She always used Rosie with her viewers…although at this point she didn’t know if they were even still watching.

“Like the flower,” the heir replied, the corner of his lip quirking up. “Pretty.”

A moment of awkward silence stretched between them, or at least it was awkward for Rosalyn, because she wasn’t sure what to say. She wasn’t sure if she should acknowledge the compliment, or wait for him to, as etiquette would dictate, give his name in return.

It was infuriating, in a way. Rosalyn was fairly introverted in the real world, preferring social interactions that took place through text and computer screens, or into a camera where no one person could reply, instead adoring fans chatting with each other while she performed. In those instances, she always knew what to say, how to respond, how to appear suave and put-together and cool. RosieRainbow was charming as fuck.

And this wasn’t real life, this was a damn video game. These were NPCs. Whether her viewers were watching or not, she didn’t want to be so disarmed by an NPC. It was annoying.

In a moment of pure idiocy, she forgot about self-preservation entirely, driven by the need to take control of the conversation. And you’re the Prince, right? It was on the tip of her tongue, ready to leap forth into the air, when two things happened simultaneously to interrupt her.

It was as if time slowed down, and she watched with horror as Hemlock threw himself from his hiding branch. His fuzzy body seemed to bend and stretch, like a cat twisting in the air to land on its feet. The sapphire demon reacted a split second later, drawing small knives from somewhere on his body and flinging them rapidly one after the other.

Rosalyn was sure she screamed, but she couldn’t hear anything. The knives snicked past Hemlock, and he did his twisty trick, little bits of white fluff fluttering off into the air from the blades, but somehow no blood.

Her senses came back into vivid focus as the critter landed on the heir’s head, and then promptly bounced into Rosalyn’s lap.

“Jeeezus fuck,” she hissed, holding him close to her. “You scared the shit out of me, don’t do that again!” She snuggled into her, and she could almost feel scolding contempt emanating from him, as if he’d known what she was about to say.

Did he know?

Whether he did or not and had interrupted on purpose or not, the whole stunt had jostled her out of her moment of insanity. Especially now seeing how protective and how skilled the sapphire demon was, Rosalyn knew that she should keep her knowledge and motives to herself for the time being. It was likely dangerous for anyone to know who this guy was, and throwing that out there as a helpless human that they had no attachment to or responsibility for…it would have been a dumb move.

She silently thanked Hemlock for saving her ass. Once again.

“I haven’t seen a Kranok in forever,” the heir said, eyes wide as he stared at the furball. “As nimble as one ever was. You never miss, Jian.” He cast a teasing glance at his grumbling companion, the sapphire demon stalking over to a nearby tree where his knives had embedded deep into the wood.

“Is that what he is?” Rosalyn asked as she snuggled her friend. “I called him Hemlock.”

The heir smirked. “Beautiful and poisonous,” he mused. “Fitting.”

She wanted to ask why. Was her little buddy poisonous? Or was it a metaphor? But her stomach growled loudly, and she winced at the force of it. She’d spent so much time throwing up and just feeling like general shit that it felt like her gut was eating itself. She’d had a mouthful of leafy fern, but it wasn’t near enough.

“We need to get some food into you,” the heir said, and got to his feet.

He held out a hand to her, and she couldn’t help the knee-jerk response of suspicion. She was so damn hungry, and the fact that someone was being nice to her at all in this place was so tempting that it hurt. But she couldn’t let that make her weak.

“Why would you want to help me?”

His brow furrowed, and he pursed his lips as he regarded her. He glanced up at his companion—Jian, apparently—who had just finished yanking his blades from the tree and sheathing them.

“You need not fear us,” the sapphire demon declared, his voice firm but gentle all at once. Like a doctor breaking horrible news in the most calming way. “Contrary to my many concerns and warnings, Hex welcomes every creature into his brood.”

Hex, his name is Hex.

“Oh, fuck your concerns and warnings,” the heir scoffed through a smile, good-natured teasing clear in his tone. “If I heeded you on everything, we’d never have any fun.”

“Keeping you alive is a chore,” Jian quipped.

“One you adore,” Hex shot back.

Rosalyn blinked rapidly, her eyes burning. The exchange made her miss KC so badly. It was clear these two had been together for a long time, the playful banter a clear indicator of their close comfort level.

“We’ll get you fed and rested, and send you off wherever you’re headed with some supplies,” he continued, addressing her this time. “Unless you decide to stick around…then you can talk to Klari.”

Jian shook his head. “She won’t be of much use to Klari.”

“You don’t know that,” Hex replied, and held out his hand to Rosalyn once more. “Just because a creature is tiny doesn’t mean it’s not poisonous.”

This time, she threw caution to the wind, and took it.