Chapter Twelve
You’re bound to a demon lord, Charlotte...
The words echoed through Charley’s nightmares, chasing her down every dark alley, into every fiery pit. She couldn’t escape them; even as Dorian held her in his strong embrace, tucked into his bed hours after they’d returned from Cole’s cabin, everything about his confession haunted her.
A demon claim. A slave of hell.
It all sounded so ridiculous and impossible—like something out of a low-budget horror movie. But she’d seen the fear in Dorian’s eyes when he’d said the words. She’d felt the desperation in his touch.
However impossible, it was real. All of her nightmares were real.
And all of them—Sasha’s kidnapping, her father’s murder, the attack by Rogozin’s guys when she was a kid, the demon mark—could be traced right back
