Why You Should Never Rescue Stray Demons Chapter 100

**OZ**

I feel Kacia tense in my arms as Raylah’s flame sputters and dies, plunging the room into pitch black. My eyes, still dazzled from the firelight, can’t adjust quickly enough. For a moment, there’s nothing but darkness and the thunder of my heartbeat. But something is happening. The air is thick, wrong, charged like a storm before it breaks. The dreadful scent of fae, sweet, sticky and nauseating, swells until it fills my lungs, coats my tongue. It’s like she’s multiplying in the dark, pressing into every corner of the room. Then it hits. A sudden pull, sharp and stomach turning, like the ground has been yanked out from beneath me. My balance lurches, my body convulses, and my stomach drops as though I’ve been shoved off a cliff. It only gets worse. My skin prickles with a crawling wrongness. My limbs don’t feel like they belong to me anymore, my brain screams that I’m moving them, but there’s no connection, no ownership. It’s the same awful dislocation I’ve felt before. Shit. I know this. I know this feeling. We’re being pulled through a portal.

“Kacia!” I try to shout, but the word is warped, my voice swallowed by the pressure crushing around us. I clutch her tighter, desperate, but she’s slippery, my arms phasing in and out of solidity like I’m trying to hold her underwater. Panic claws through me. Raylah’s words flash in my mind. ‘I do not currently have any intent to harm Kacia Alhwin.’ A neat little trick. That doesn’t mean she isn’t planning to TAKE her. Doesn’t mean she isn’t delivering Kacia right into her grandfather’s waiting hands. A half fae granddaughter prophesied to ruin him? That’s worth more than gold. That’s leverage. That’s a prize every fae lord would slaughter to claim. And I let this happen. I should’ve ripped Raylah apart the moment she stepped into the room. I should’ve shielded Kacia with everything I had, should’ve trusted my instincts instead of giving the benefit of the doubt. Stupid and naive of me. I should know better. The pull deepens, stretching me thin, burning through every nerve. Pins and needles explode across my body, not just in my limbs but everywhere. My skin, lungs, even my eyes. I can’t tell if my body is whole anymore. I can’t tell if Kacia is still in my arms or if she’s already been torn from me. The only thing I know for certain, the one clear thought I can cling to through the pain, is that when I get my hands on that fae, I’m going to kill her.

The world slams back into place with a bone deep jolt, and my knees nearly give out when we hit solid ground. My whole body feels wrong, like my limbs are stuffed with sandbags, every movement heavy and sluggish. Even my senses, usually sharp enough to catch the barest whisper, are dulled, as though the portal has wrung them out and left me hollow. Kacia crumples beside me, hitting the marble floor hard. She doesn’t even try to fight it, her body convulses, and she doubles over, retching violently across polished stone. The sound echoes through the vast hall, horribly out of place in a building that hums with magic. And damn, there’s so much of it. The air is thick with it, sweet, perfumed and cloying. Like roses and honey left to rot in the sun. It makes my skin crawl. Every surface is threaded with enchantments, the towering arched windows, the silk draped walls that shimmer faintly, the gilded lamps burning with steady white blue light that never flickers. No wires. No fire. Just magic, woven into every stone. The place feels alive, watching, as though the walls themselves are listening. Kacia groans, clutching her stomach as another wave takes her. She spits, pale and trembling, one hand braced against the floor. 

“Damn it… That was-” Another gag cuts her off. Raylah stands a few feet away, arms folded, her face an artful mask of amusement and disdain. 

“Oh, really? How disappointing.” She tilts her head, all smooth grace and sharp teeth hidden behind a smile. 

“You’ve never traveled through a portal before, have you?” She asks, almost smugly. Kacia shoots her a murderous glare, weak but blazing. Raylah rolls her eyes, slow and deliberate. 

“Humans.” She sighs, as though the word itself drains her patience. 

“And here I thought the granddaughter of a fae Lord might have a stronger constitution. Do try to adjust, little half blood. You’ll be making that trip more than once if you’re to survive here.” She points out. I glare. Portals only make you that sick when you’re unused to them, or forced through one unwillingly. If she had warned us properly, Kacia might not be so sick. I crouch at Kacia’s side, steadying her when she sways. Her skin is clammy under my hands, her breaths shallow, and every protective instinct in me screams to grab her, to take her and run. But where? My magic is still bound tight as iron, sealed by her grandfather’s stupid vines. I can’t portal us out. We are stranded here, and worse, we are dependent. I hate that word, but it’s true. Unless Raylah or another fae decides to make us a portal back, we are stuck here. Honestly I don’t know how I made it through this portal. I thought the binding was supposed to prevent me from travelling through a portal made by someone else. Or maybe just to prevent me from taking a portal leading home. I’m not sure. But now isn’t the right time to think about that. I keep my tone steady for Kacia’s sake. 

“Easy, Princess, It’ll pass.” I murmur. Then I lift my gaze to Raylah, narrowing my eyes. 

“Next time, maybe give a warning before dragging someone through hell sideways.” I say angrily. She smiles like a cat with a canary feather stuck between her teeth, smug and unbothered. 

“Where would be the fun in that?” She asks. My hands tighten on Kacia’s shoulders, a silent promise to her and a silent curse for myself. Because as much as I want to tear the smugness from Raylah’s face, we need her. And she knows it.

A minute later, a brownie rushes in, dragging a mop and bucket behind him. It’s not Angelo, obviously, but there’s a resemblance. Maybe they’re related? The brownie hands Kacia a handkerchief and a glass of water, which she accepts with shaky gratitude, before setting to work on the mess.

“Sorry.” Kacia murmurs, embarrassed, dabbing at her lips. I pull her closer, tucking her against me, a silent shield. The brownie just waves her apology off with a shy smile before lowering his head to the task. His movements are quick but not frantic, efficient but not fearful. And unlike Angelo, when we first found him, this one doesn’t look half starved or hollow eyed. His clothes are plain but clean, his skin healthy, his eyes bright. He even hums under his breath as he works. It throws me. I’m used to fae servants looking… Well, miserable. Drained. Broken. This one seems almost content. My eyes flick to Raylah. At least she isn’t mistreating her staff, or servants, or slaves, whatever the right word is here. I don’t like that I can’t tell which it is. But at least this brownie isn’t crumpling with exhaustion or wearing bruises that don’t heal. I can’t figure her out. Is she planning to hurt us, or not? If her goal was to sell Kacia to her grandfather, dragging me along makes no sense. It would’ve been easy to leave me behind. In fact, it would’ve been less effort than hauling me through the portal too, especially with my magic bound. She could’ve dropped me like excess baggage and had her prize gift wrapped for the Fae Lord. So why bring me? The thought curdles in my stomach. Either she isn’t planning to hand Kacia over… Or she has some use for me. Neither option is exactly comforting. Raylah lets out an impatient sigh, breaking my train of thought. I look up to find her watching us with a faint sneer, like she’s already bored of the entire display.

“Well, come along then.” Her voice is velvet and steel. 

“It’s time to have tea.”