Chapter 663

Hours later, Daemonikai sat in the reclining chair of his bedchamber, freshly washed, freshly bandaged, and clothed in clean linens. Faiwick had done a thorough job—curbed the bleeding, cleaned the wounds meticulously, and stitched them with care. The pain remained, but the worst had passed. Daemonikai’s eyes were closed, though sleep remained out of reach. The voices had quieted for now, but his head throbbed like the devils. Still, the silence and solitude served him well. He would take whatever peace he could find.