Page 19 of The Daughter of the Devil

His expression softens, a tender look in his eyes. "Morgana, no matter what happens, I'll be by your side. If you stay a mortal, I'll be here. If you become an angel again and get your powers back, I'll still be here."

Tears well up in my eyes as I struggle to find the right words. "But what if... what if a suitor comes along for me in the future? Someone more fitting for an angel?"

He smiles, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Well, my lady, I doubt any suitor will ever make you scream like that again."

I feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment, a mix of amusement and mortification. "Alistair!"

He chuckles softly, his laughter a soothing balm to my troubled heart. "I'm serious, Morgana. Whoever comes into your life, I'll still be by your side, I'm your servant, until the day I'm executed. I will always be here for you."

"W-Why would you think your servitude will end with your execution?"

"Simple. Someone will figure out I'm in love with my master. As soon as the Council hears of it, they'll execute me. I know the laws."

"Then never say that again."

"Say what?"

"That you love me. If this whole human thing is permanent then sure, do whatever you want, but if I get my powers back I forbid you to speak those words. I won't have you executed for it." We stand in silence for a moment, the gravity of our conversation sinking in. As we prepare to step through the portal, I feel a surge of emotion, a clarity I hadn't expected. "Alistair?" I say, my voice steady.

"Yes, my lady?"

"I don't think I want my powers back."

We arrive at my room in silence, the familiar dark stone walls of Hell providing a strange sense of comfort. I step inside, my thoughts still swirling from our conversation. Alistair follows me to the door, as he always does, his silent sentinel. He remains there, standing guard in case he is needed.

I begin to undress, changing into something more comfortable, but I can't help but notice Alistair shifting uncomfortably. His usual calm demeanor is disrupted, and he’s itching his neck and chest through his clothes. It’s not like him to be so restless.

"Alistair," I call out softly, turning to face him. "Is something wrong?"

He looks up, his expression momentarily startled before he masks it with a calm facade. "No, my lady. I'm just... a bit uncomfortable."

I step closer, my concern deepening. "You’ve been scratching yourself." I ask, my voice tinged with worry.

He hesitates, then nods slowly. "Yes. It seems the change has accelerated, and the urges are stronger than I anticipated."

I frown, feeling a pang of guilt. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

He shakes his head, but his eyes betray a hint of desperation. "I don’t want to burden you with this. It’s something I must manage." His words hit me like a punch to the gut. A horrid realization dawns on me. I've forced the change on him, which means he will get the itch. The itch is something that makes Incubi unstable and want to drain energy more often. Because he's never felt intimacy, it would have been easy for him to resist that. Now, I've put him in a position where his urges might become uncontrollable.

"Alistair," I begin, my voice trembling, "I've forced the change on you." He looks up at me with a guilty expression but it lessens quickly.

"If I'm honest, the urges have come before, it's actually been difficult for me. So I…"

"What?"

"I used to…do something to upset you, whatever would entice you to punish me physically, it seemed to drive the urges away."

His confession hits me like a cold wave. The times I've lashed out at him, thinking I was punishing him, were actually moments that helped him control his urges. I feel a mix of guilt and confusion. "Why didn't you tell me?" I ask softly, my anger replaced by a deep sadness.

"It’s not something easy to talk about, my lady," he says, his voice gentle. "And I didn’t want to burden you with my problems."

We continue walking in silence, the weight of our conversation hanging heavily between us. My mind churns with thoughts of what I've done and what it means for our future. Can I continue to be around him, knowing the effects I have on him? Can he control his urges without my harsh discipline? "What can I do?"

"My lady, I'm fine."

"Oh for fuck's sake, Alistair!" I bite my tongue quickly, I can't let anyone hear overhear us. I turn towards my dressing table, in the drawer I search for candle and place it on the desk. I wave my hand over it, rather forgetting I can't light it myself anymore. "Light it." I state. He looks almost petrified as he waves a hand from the door and the candle lights. I'm not surprised, I never wanted people to hear him when he was being punished, so I'd light the candle to silence any sounds that came from this room. "Lock the door." He does so without question before I start to pace up and down the room. "First of all, you know I don't like lies, I'm a bit annoyed about that. Secondly, I'm pissed that you let me provoke the change, I'm a teenager, I don't know any better."

"Neither do I." He states.

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