Bind the Soul by Annette Marie

having trouble until I helped him calm down—”
    “He wasn’t calm? He was frightened?”
    She frowned. “Of course. We were buried alive.”
    “But you were in that tiny space with him.”
    “Yes.”
    “And he was panicking.”
    “ Yes ,” she exclaimed, annoyed. “That’s what I said.”
    Miysis looked at Lyre. “Can you explain this?”
    Lyre shook his head. “I have no freaking clue.”
    “What are you talking about?” she demanded.
    “You’re alive.”
    “I know I’m alive.”
    “You don’t understand,” Miysis said impatiently. “He should have killed you.”
    She went still. “What?”
    “He was panicking. He must have shaded. Unless, somehow, he didn’t?”
    “I—Well, it was dark so I can’t say . . . for sure.” She shifted uncomfortably. “But he’d lost hold of his glamour, so I’m pretty sure he shaded.”
    Lyre’s face paled. “You never mentioned that before.”
    “I—I don’t know. It didn’t seem that important.” She looked between them, trying to understand their reactions.
    Miysis exhaled sharply. “It’s only important in that it suggests Ashtaroth has the best self-control while shaded of any daemon I know. I would’ve killed you, either intentionally or accidentally.”
    He glanced at Lyre, who nodded his agreement.
    She stared at them, feeling cold.
    Miysis noticed her expression. “I don’t think you understand what shading is, Piper. It’s a defensive reaction. It evolved as our fight-or-flight response, though it can be triggered by anger as well. In that state, all that matters is self-preservation. Physical needs dominate. Little else even registers. We may not even recognize people we know while shaded. All we see are threats.”
    She remembered when Lilith had used her seduction magic on Lyre and Ash, sending both daemons into a spiral of lust that had shaded them within seconds. Lyre had looked at her with the eyes of a wolf. He hadn’t responded when she’d spoken to him. He hadn’t noticed or cared that he was scaring her. He wouldn’t have cared if he’d hurt her. It was Ash who’d regained his senses. He’d knocked Lyre away from her and confronted Lilith, ready to turn his rage on her instead.
    “It amazes me that Ashtaroth could restrain himself.” Miysis shook his head. “I can’t even imagine it.”
    “I don’t know,” she mumbled. “He was pretty coherent after he killed the choronzon too, even though he had no glamour then either.”
    “ He killed the choronzon?”
    “He had no glamour?” Lyre repeated. “You never mentioned that either.”
    She blinked. “Uh. Let me finish the story, I guess.”
    She rushed through the last part of the tale, explaining how the harpies had stolen the Sahar from her before she’d reunited with Ash. She left out only two details: the harpies had revealed who had hired them, and Piper had killed most of them with the Sahar. Despite his desperation to find it, nothing good could come from Miysis knowing Samael had the Stone. The Ra and Hades families had nearly gone to war over the Sahar once already.
    “And then,” she concluded, “once Ash calmed me down and got me to set his wing, he put his glamour back in place and that’s when your guys showed up. The rest is history.”
    Silence spread through the room. The two daemons stared at her. She shrank back. “What now?”
    “You set his wing?”
    “Why do you keep making me repeat myself?”
    Miysis rubbed a hand over his face. “How does he do it?”
    “Do what?”
    “Keep not killing you.”
    “The guy is a freaking machine,” Lyre said. He looked at Piper curiously. “What did you think of him?”
    “Without his glamour?” She swallowed. “You were right. He’s terrifying.”
    “That’s typical for draconians,” Miysis said absently. “Few Underworld castes have it.”
    Her brow furrowed. “Huh?”
    He focused again. “We call it the Nightmare Effect. It’s a self-defense mechanism. Draconians exude a sort of