At first, everything was pain. Searing, blinding, white-hot pain, tearing her soul apart. It could have been seconds, hours, or days. Time had no meaning. Only pain.

  Then it stopped, and she heard a voice; in a menacing growl, it said, "Submit to me your body and soul, and I will ease your suffering."

  She didn't know where she was. She couldn't see, couldn't move, and couldn't scream. Terror engulfed her, but she couldn't give in. "No!"

  The voice responded, "Let's try that again."

  The pain returned. It cleared her mind of any thought but endless pain. She felt herself be ripped apart, torn to shreds, over and over and over again. Then it stopped again. The voice repeated, "Submit to me your body and soul, and I will ease your suffering."

  She could barely think. Her thoughts were heavy, slow, and consumed by fear. She would give anything to not feel the pain again, and she nearly gave everything.

  But Morgan Avalyn remembered herself. She remembered her training. Rowan had prepared her for mental attacks.

  Morgan imagined herself in a block of ice. Water is sacred magic, Rowan taught her. So long as Morgan focused her mind on the ice, the creature couldn't break through. At least, that's how it's supposed to work.

  She could sense it outside the ice walls, confused, furious, and amused. It pounded and scratched at her mental walls. It still hurt, but the pain was bearable. But she could see it, shapeless, black thing that it was, but had no idea what it was. Finally, it stopped attacking the walls, paused for a moment, and then took the appearance of a beautiful young woman. Luxurious red curls cascaded down her bare shoulders and breasts. She wore a silken red dress that covered almost nothing.

  "I'm impressed," the woman said in a velvety voice. "You're the first human I've met to mount a decent defense. Your father tried, but he was weak and distracted. I got inside, and he gave me everything. It was over in a matter of minutes."

  Azazel lifted a sharp green fingernail and delicately scratched on the ice, testing for weakness. But Morgan's life and soul depended on her ability to focus, so she focused down to the molecular level, concentrating on the interlocking geometric shapes.

  "Eventually, your walls will crack, too. And when I get in, I'll tear your soul apart slowly. There will be nothing left of you when I ask again. Your mind will be shattered. Unless you submit now."

  "You'll tear me apart no matter what I do," Morgan answered.

  "You've got it all wrong, baby. You're going to marry Steward Meiori. And together, you'll rule Vulpex. All five islands–well, four islands. I'll make you a deal: submit your body to me, and I will leave your soul intact when I choose another host. Continue to resist, and you'll end up like your father."

  The memory of him being impaled struck her, and she almost broke down. Azazel sensed an opening and changed shape. No longer did it resemble a beautiful, buxom red-head, but instead the still corpse of her father, sword through his chest. His face didn't move. His eyes stared out into nothing, but his lips spoke in her father's voice.

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  "He'll eat your soul if you don't give in," her father's body said.

  Morgan cried out. She tried to close her eyes, but it was all in her mind. Azazel took this moment of weakness and lashed out at the ice, abandoning her father's form and returning to its shapeless, black miasma of hatefulness. Claws dug into her walls, and she felt each swipe like a dull ache or a painful memory. Her barrier almost broke down, but fear of what it would do to her helped Morgan focus. Her life and soul depended on it.

  Finally, Azazel stopped its assault and returned to its beautiful redhead appearance, looking irritated.

  "You really should rethink this because I have news for you; you're not the only eligible Avalyn girl. Adam wants you alive and married to Meiori, but if you're going to be a little bitch about it, I can just possess Lyn and make her do it. How does that sound? You want your eight-year-old sister to marry a man in his late fifties? I'm sure Meiori won't mind."

  "You're lying! Milo would never do that," Morgan shouted.

  "Who do you think told Adam about your father's plot?"

  Morgan was stunned. Azazel flashed a wicked grin. "Of course. When Meiori heard that Rafael was being considered for the Vulpen stewardship, he accused your father of heresy. Adam sent me to find proof, and your father, idiot that he was, provided it. Now both he and Rafael are dead. Meiori will be Steward of Vulpex, and you will be his trophy wife. Adam rewards loyalty… and severely punishes treason. You should be grateful to be alive at all."

  Morgan couldn't respond. She was overwhelmed, with nothing to do about it but focus on her barriers, the only thing keeping the monster out. It seemed to relish her despair.

  "That's right. Your friend betrayed you. Your father is dead. Brother, dead. And if I can't make you useful, I'll possess someone else, kill you, and see if Lyn is a little more pliable."

  Morgan wished that she could cry. Trapped in her mind, she couldn't feel the catharsis of fear and pain that tears bring. She keened and concentrated ever more, resisting.

  "Lyn is safe. You'll never find her," she said, and then repeated several times like a mantra. "Lyn is safe. You'll never find her."

  "Wrong again, my dear. I know exactly where Lyn and Rowan are. Yes, I know all about Rowan. Like I said, your father gave me everything. Adam already sent a missionary to collect them. Rowan will be killed, but I could be convinced to let your sister go. After all, what's one deaf girl going to do without a family?"

  Panic erupted in Morgan. Rowan and Lyn were in danger. With her father and brother dead, no one would save them.

  Azazel sensed her dread and smiled. "Come now. I'm a reasonable man. Surely, you and I can come to a fair understanding. One where your sister survives."

  Morgan wanted to give up. She had lost so much already. But something shifted. Morgan felt a familiar presence. She felt Rowan's mind.

  There was a moment of chaos and violence as Azazel sensed the new mind present. It attacked Rowan immediately. Morgan felt Rowan's pain and surprise, and then obsidian stone walls surrounded her in defense. Rowan and Morgan couldn't communicate with each other while they both had barriers up, but Azazel could speak to both.

  So worried and exhausted was Morgan that she struggled to maintain focus on the endless geometric patterns forming her ice defense. Azazel, meanwhile, was silent. Morgan watched it in shadows, circling Rowan's reflective black barrier.

  Rowan's mental defenses were more sophisticated than Morgan's. Morgan's ice defense was imperfect, rigid, uneven, and inflexible. She could neither hear nor see them clearly because her ice distorted the image. So she waited. Her anxiety and fear continued to grow but also hope. Maybe together, they could overpower Azazel. But then Morgan realized that Rowan must be nearby to join their minds. That meant Azazel could possess Rowan's body. Rowan was in immediate danger, and that fact informed Morgan's decision.

  "Azazel," she thought. "Let's negotiate."

  Azazel returned in an instant in its buxom redhead outfit.

  "I'm listening," it said with a sinister smile.

  "Let Rowan go. Don't hurt them or Lyn or bring them to harm, and I'll give you my body."

  The monster frowned. It appeared to be considering. Then it smiled again. "Deal."