Page 29 of A Kiss of Deception

She laughs, the sound grating on my nerves. "Really? Because from where I'm standing, you didn't lift a finger. My dear old dad got himself killed all on his own."

My nostrils flare as I struggle to contain my rage. She's right, of course. But I'll be damned if I let her outsmart me.

"I protected you. Guided you here. Without me, you'd still be cowering under your father's fist."

Meetha's eyes flash dangerously. "I was never cowering."

"Give me the ring," I growl, taking a step closer.

She doesn't flinch. "Make me."

The air crackles with tension. I could snatch it from her easily enough, but something holds me back. Perhaps it's the defiant tilt of her chin or the way her eyes dance with challenge.

"You're playing a dangerous game, little girl."

"I'm not playing anything." She slips the ring into her bosom. "This is mine now."

"Besides," Meetha begins. "You'd probably abandon me as soon as I hand the ring over to you."

"You don't understand the power you're toying with," I growl, frustration evident in my voice.

Meetha's eyes narrow, a hint of curiosity breaking through her defiant facade. "Then explain it to me. Why can't you just take it?"

I grit my teeth, hating to admit my limitations. "The ring... it chooses its wearer. Once it has, it can't be removed by force. Not by me, not by anyone."

"It's not just a trinket," I continue, struggling to find the right words. "That ring holds power beyond your comprehension. In the right hands-"

"Your hands, you mean?" Meetha interrupts, a sardonic smile playing on her lips.

I bite back a snarl. "Yes, my hands. I could use it to break this cursed form, to become what I truly am."

Her eyes widen slightly, a flicker of interest. "And what exactly are you, Milkor? Beyond the facade of a dark elf?"

The question hangs in the air between us. I've never revealed the full extent of my nature to a human before. But as I look into Meetha's eyes, I see something that gives me pause. Not just curiosity, but a hunger that mirrors my own.

"I am power incarnate," I say, my voice low and intense. "A demon of Galmoleth, trapped in this pitiful elven shell. With that ring, I could reclaim my true form, my full strength."

Meetha's breath catches. "And what would you do with all that power?"

I clench my jaw, the truth caught in my throat. Meetha's eyes bore into me, demanding an answer. The weight of her gaze is almost as heavy as the curse that binds me to this elven form.

"If the ring is as powerful as I believe," I start, each word dragged from me reluctantly, "it could break the purna's curse."

Meetha's eyes widen. "And then what?"

I take a deep breath, steeling myself. "Then I would be free. Free to return to my true form, to reclaim my full power."

"And?" She presses, twisting the ring around her finger as she awaits my response.

"And I could return home," I admit, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. "To Galmoleth."

Silence falls between us, heavy and oppressive. Meetha's face is unreadable, but I can sense the turmoil within her. The ring glints on her finger, a constant reminder of what's at stake.

"So you'd just... leave?" Her voice is quiet, but there's an edge to it that cuts through me.

I want to lie, to tell her what she wants to hear. But something about this human girl demands honesty. "I don't know," I confess. "I've been trapped in this form for so long, I..."

My words trail off. The truth is, I haven't allowed myself to think beyond breaking the curse. The possibility of returning home had seemed so distant, so impossible, that I'd never considered what it would mean to leave this realm. To leave her.

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