The burn was hot and relentless. I recognized it immediately. The holy burn. Anybody who could do this could not be killed and interfered with, my father always told me and my siblings. It was a direct mark of God that he places on those he curses to enable them to live out their punishment for all eternity or till it was lifted.
And this smiling lunatic halfling was of cursed blood.
And judging by how severe his teeth are pulled; he actually has to smile through it all.
I would laugh at his situation except I actually want to kill him myself for saving the alpha pup on the ground.
But I can't.
"You can't kill him" He murmurs while looking behind to the pup whining to get up.
"Why not? It's true that I can't kill you yes, but what makes you think I can't kill him. Why are you interfering in this?" I mutter quietly. He dances on the soles of his sneakers nervously looking to see if the pup is alright. Honestly, I can just squeeze his essence out while he lays there.
I refocus on the wolf and resume my mental torture only for the half ling to close up on me again, Sethur and the twins move to block his way but am quick to stop them from touching him. While I was a prince of hell, my demons were not necessarily as strong. One touch and it would take my father to patch them up and my hatred for the old demon wouldn't allow me to grovel.
I move back a bit but mentally maintain my hold on the pup. Contrarily to most theories about the origin of werewolves and most supernatural creatures, every one of them actually came from demons. They were a freak of nature and the devil's fuck you to his father after falling from glory.
Yeah, my ancestors were petty as fuck.
The werewolf was a whinnying mess as he writhed on the ground, the blood coming out of every opening of his body was an amazing work of art. My mind focused on the blood oozing from his eyes and a satisfied smirk pulled at the corner of my mouth.
The joy a creature of my kind gets from inflicting pain on others is immense. It's a drug, a rush that actually fuels our very being. We call it feeding in simple terms. And the emotional pain this werewolf was releasing was something akin to cocaine for humans if I could describe the high.
Not even when the oddity refocused on my arm where I could smell my burnt fresh did the rush en. This body I realized in this moment was such a weak vessel, because even through its layers, my demon form was getting the blunt of the burn too. My focus on the mental hold on the wolf wavered as an aggressive emotion of anger suddenly overwhelmed me.
At first, I thought I was angry because of the halfling attempting to save the werewolf but a blur of movement from the corner of my eyes suddenly caught my attention.
The wind shifted as he wrenched the oddity from my person, lifting him from the ground by the neck as he literally chocked the life out of him. His voice when he spoke was like a violent waterfall in a silent night. His usually beautiful hazel eyes a deep red purple with green specks.
"You dare lay a hand on him?" He growled with the intensity of a wronged beast. Sethur and the twins moved back to fidget with bowed heads while cautiously throwing painful gazes at the cursed hybrid.
The oddity smiled through it, but you could tell he actually didn't want to die. While he might have thought that his cursed existence was better off cut off, it was a whole different kind of fear when you realized that the one before you could actually end that very existence.
Everyone wanted to die, but when it actually came down to it. No one actually did.
The angel halfling's face was turning a blue due to lack of oxygen to his head; it also didn't help that his feet were dangling a few feet off the ground. And while I was hard and yearning at his bad ass interruption to come to my rescue, I also knew that the only reason he would force himself out of recharge was to come to my rescue. Which was very bad because he was now running on his emotions rather that feed.
The bond was tearing at him. The smell of my distress was enough to force his other form to take over. And it was a risk we rarely took. While we were both inherently evil, Ekron was still born of a human mother, which meant he wasn't fully evil. But he was vulnerable to high volatile emotions because he also had a third form that feed on his emotions.
And the more intense he was in his own emotion, the more power he gave to his inner being who wanted nothing more than to consume his very being.
I had foolishly forgotten that our link was strong enough to snap him even from the brink if death itself.
Ultimately, the curse was that strong. That blood would always call to blood. In this moment I would forever loathe the prince of hell that sired him, and by extension his mother.
What if in another time and space, we both had choices...
would I have still chosen him as mine for eternity.
Yes. The answer had always been yes. Because despite the pull of our blood or the curse of our bond, I would burn down this god forsaken world for him. Starting with the one that activated the curse in the first place. My eyes left his and caught the figure that stood on the side watching him with an expression of adoration yet fear and fascination.
This wolf had chosen my linker as it's mate.
Suddenly I could see it. The invisible thread that linked soulmates. A cord of silver coiled around his heart and connected to Ekron's.
Perhaps pity wasn't the right emotion to suddenly well up inside me, maybe it was pity for myself rather, pathetic in knowing that if he hadn't been cursed to my side he would've ended up with the mutt.
Sethur moved away from me as my flame came to life.
I would server the cord that linked them, end the trail of more suffering that would sure come for my linker if the two even let each other near.
I chuckled at the irony; his mother really had ruined his life.
And all to spite his sire.