Chapter 77: The Protector She Never Asked For
Chapter 77: The Protector She Never Asked For
Zorathys watched Elyn carefully.
She stood stiffly near the desk, shoulders tight, eyes unfocused, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve as though she were physically holding herself together. She looked like someone trapped between a rock and a hard place—cornered, overwhelmed, and very close to snapping.
He could help her.
That was the irritating truth of it.
He was king, after all. Not by accident, not by lineage alone, and certainly not because the throne had been vacant and lonely. There were rules in the demon realm that bent when he spoke, ancient customs that could be overturned with the right justification... or with the right death of someone who thought he could oppose him. If he truly wanted to, he could stop the imprint.
Everyone knew only the fact that a Syrenthis must imprint once they’ve marked you, but there was another way. Except Azerion—the other Syrenthis in the realm did not imprint on Zorathys.
He already had the imprint of a different beast demon after all. One even stronger than a Syrenthis, although that wasn’t the reason the Syrenthis didn’t imprint on him. The reason they didn’t imprint was because he had made them not imprint on him. It was that simple.
And he could do the same for Elyn too—but he didn’t, because he saw something else.
He saw an opportunity.
The demon realm was not gentle. It wasn’t kind. It wasn’t forgiving, and it would destroy anyone who was too pure or soft for it—anyone who wasn’t strong enough.
Today was peaceful, but tomorrow might not be. There was always something going on in the demon realm, and only the strong survived. That was the unspoken rule after all. The strong survived, and the weak died or gave up.
And Elyn?
She wasn’t strong in the way demons were. She was strong mentally—he was sure of that—but she wasn’t strong physically, not even a little bit.
From the very moment he had met her, he had known it. Her magic was thin, faint, barely clinging to her like mist that could be scattered with a single harsh breath.
She could do little spells... like those she used on the spouses who had come to her back when she was in Aelthryn.
But that wouldn’t be enough. That little magic she had and those tricks she did wouldn’t be enough to survive here. The demons would quickly see through them.
But if she had a Syrenthis...
Zorathys’s gaze drifted briefly to Azerion, who was holding onto Elyn a bit more than Zorathys liked and also eating a snack. Zorathys watched as the boy fished one out and then opened another immediately.
Syrenthis demons were... inconvenient, volatile, and prone to catastrophic destruction when displeased—but they were also terrifyingly loyal.
When they hatched, they looked like human babies, maybe even regular babies too, but at around fifty days old, they took the form of a child—until they imprinted on someone. And the moment they did so, they grew according to the magic of the person they bonded with.
A Syrenthis bound to a weak master—a master without magic—would remain a small child for centuries.
A Syrenthis bound to someone terrifying?
They grew into nightmares.
Zorathys hadn’t expected Azerion to be drawn to Elyn. Not truly. The odds of a Syrenthis choosing a human—especially one with so little magic—were laughably low. The odds didn’t even exist.
And yet, Azerion had chosen her. And that meant that Elyn was more scary than he was. Well, after seeing what she could do, Zorathys admitted that Elyn was definitely more scary than he was. There was no doubt about it at all.
He yawned, long and unashamed, stretching lazily in his chair before finally speaking.
"The faster the imprinting is done, the better," he said. "If it’s delayed too long, he’ll start acting out."
Elyn let out a tired sigh and slumped back into the chair across from him. "Define acting out."
"Breaking things," Zorathys replied easily. "Destroying furniture. Collapsing walls. Eating things he shouldn’t—some may not even be sweet."
His eyes settled on her snack box. Her eyes followed. "You mean my snack box?" she asked, horrified.
"Yes," he said solemnly. "Especially your snack box."
She groaned, rubbing her face with both hands. "This is a nightmare."
Zorathys smiled faintly at her. "It’s really not that bad."
She dropped her hands and glared at him. "You are not the one being stalked by a snake."
"No," he told her. "And I’m also not the one trying and failing to dodge him too."
She glared at him, and Zorathys’s smile disappeared from his face immediately.
"If he weren’t a snake," she continued sharply, "I wouldn’t care. Truly. If he were... I don’t know, a bird. Or a wolf. Or literally anything else. But he’s a snake, Zorathys. I’m scared of snakes."
Zorathys nodded. He got that the first time.
"Firefly, the Syrenthis are among the strongest demons in this realm," he said. "They are loyal to their masters beyond reason. They will tear apart cities to protect the one they imprint on."
She eyed him skeptically. "You’re really not helping."
"They can’t defeat arch demons," he added lazily, "but they can go head-to-head with a lesser noble without breaking much of a sweat."
Her brow lifted. "Arch demons?"
"Yes."
"What rank are you?" she asked.
Zorathys smiled then—slow, smug, unmistakably pleased with himself. "I am the only arch demon in the realm."
She stared at him. "Figures."
Then she frowned. "What about Ignivar?"
"He’s a high demon."
She opened her mouth. "And how many—"
"No," Zorathys cut in. "I am not giving you a lecture. I’m already too tired for this. Ask Morthen if you want to know—although, given the fact that we’ll be attending a ball, you’re going to learn from him soon."
Elyn huffed and crossed her arms.
"You should just do the imprint," he said.
She stared at the floor for a long moment, then exhaled slowly. "Fine," she muttered. "Let’s just get it over with."
Zorathys’s smile widened.
He turned slightly. "Azerion."
The hatchling looked up immediately.
"She’s agreed," Zorathys said. "You may proceed with the imprint."
Azerion scowled at him, his small face scrunching up in clear displeasure.
Then he looked at Elyn.
The scowl vanished instantly, replaced with a bright, eager smile that made her stomach drop.
She swallowed. "How exactly... does this work?"
Azerion tilted his head, eyes shining.
"I hafta eat you."
Elyn stared at Zorathys with wide eyes immediately, and she looked like she was going to bolt out of the room at that point.