The Devils Daughter

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Fifteen

Celeste

After mine and Austin’s little...kiss, I freaked out and ran away. I’ve been avoiding him since. That was three days ago.

For the last three days I’ve been doing everything I can think of to keep my mind off of Austin and the stupid bond that has now grown even stronger. I can feel it pulling me to him and keeping me up at night, the only way to sleep being the comfort of my mate.

“Celeste?” I’m pulled out of my thoughts when Cal snaps his fingers in my face. “Hmm?” I hum in response while he just stares at me. “Your day dreaming again.”

“Sorry, just a lot to think about. Did you find anything out about mine and my mom’s eyes?” I tuck my hands underneath my legs and lean forward in anticipation. On the second day of avoiding my mate, I ran into Cal. At first, I freaked out thinking he had been captured or was trying to get me to escape again, but then he explained everything to me.

After a quick chat to catch up on everything that’s been happening, I told him about my dream, well, memory, of my mom and her eyes. We’ve been searching the pack library for information ever since. While we do this, Austin has his trackers searching for more clues on my family.

“We’ve searched every book on mystical creatures from fairies all the way to the 18th century mud monsters. There’s no creature with your eyes.” I sigh in defeat as I slump into my chair. “Well, except for this.” He pauses, pulling out an old leather-bound journal. I mumble curse words under my breath as he just snickers to himself. He always seems to find a way to laugh even in the worst of times. “You said your eyes turned when you were angry at Roman because he wouldn’t give you your wolf, correct?” I nod slowly while I watch as the gears turn in his head. “And your mum, it happened when she thought your dad was leaving with you?”

“What’s your point, Cal?” I rub my temples as a headache begins to form from the hours of no sleep and reading. “My point is, the connection to the change seems to be your anger. Who knows how many times your eyes have done this, this was just the first time you actually saw it.” He opens up the giant journal and sets it in front of me.

“This book is the journal to a famous hunter named Wesley Adams. He, unlike most hunter’s, knew werewolves weren’t the biggest threat to mankind and worked with this pack. He helped the warriors track down bigger threats. They would lock them up and figure out their weakness’. Until something got to his wife and unborn child.” He starts to flip through the pages of the book until he finds the page he’s looking for. “He went mad looking for it and one day he did catch it. He goes on to describe all the methods of torture used against the creature, but he couldn’t find its weakness. It just laughed at his attempts and egged him on by talking about his family.”

“How do you know I’m the same thing as this creature?” So far there isn’t any details that would lead me to believe I was anything like it. “Wesley’s very last entry.” He flips the page to reveal rushed scribbles of writing sprawled across the crisp yellow pages. “He found out the creature had a family of his own and he captured them. Tortured them right in front of the creature. He wrote out his reactions. At first, he kept his temper under control, only threatening him. But then Adams got fed up and went to kill the wife. Finally, the creature had had enough of Adams’ games and broke free. During the struggle between Wesley and the creature, Adams caught sight of his eyes. They were all black with a red ring. He looked feral.” He closes the book after I glance through it. “So, if the creature was trying to protect its family, why didn’t he kill Adams? Surely he figured Adams would come after him again.”

“Well, a few days after the incident, some wolves went to go check on him since they hadn’t heard from him. When they arrived, his cabin was a mess and there was a text scratched into all the walls.” His eyebrows scrunch together as he rustles through papers. Once he’s found what he’s looking for, he places it in front of me. A picture of the word, “δαίμονας,” is scratched in giant letters above a fireplace.

A horrible feeling settles in the bottom of my stomach as I look up to my friend. “They found him in his room. Muttering about a voice in his head,the creaturesvoice in his head. When the wolves tried to approach him, he freaked out. Yelling out apologies thinking they were the creature before he finally shot himself in front of the warriors.” I swallow the lump in my throat, my mouth going dry. “Whatever thisthingis, it got into Wesley’s mind. It drove him crazy until he couldn’t take it anymore. This thing is dangerous.”

“It’s a monster.” I whisper to myself as my heart begins to pound against the inside of my chest, a ringing forming in my ears as Cal’s voice becomes distant. “Celeste?” His voice is hushed and panicked. Then warmth spreads through me as Austin’s giant calloused hand rests on my shoulder. “Celeste,” He whispers in my ear. “Calm down, love. Take deep breaths, in and out.” He mumbles lowly, rubbing small circles into my back to calm me. “Austin, what am I?” I ask, the stinging in the back of my eyes warning me of the tears trying to bust out. “I don’t know Celeste, but we’ll figure it out.” His bright green eyes are full of worry as he gazes down at my tiny form. “I’m a monster, Austin.”

“No, darling. You’re not a monster.” I shake my head, ignoring his words. “I am. I’m a monster. An evil, evil monster.” He goes to speak when a deep and dark chuckle interrupts his train of thought. We both tense up at the noise before turning ourselves towards the door. A man in all black with raven hair and blood red eyes like mine stares at us in amusement. “My dear girl, you aren’t evil or a monster.” Austin stands, placing himself somewhat in front of me as he glares at the man.

“Who are you and how did you enter my land?” The mystery man walks forward, slowly pulling off his black leather gloves as he walks. “I simply walked in. You can get in anywhere when you’re something like me.” He places the gloves on a table before he continues his walk. “And as for who I am,”

He stops right in front of Austin, making that gut-wrenching fear pool into the pit of my stomach once again. “My name is Zeke Masters,” He holds his hand out for Austin to shake. “I am her grandfather and I can tell you what, “δαίμονας” means.”

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