Page 38 of Caged By the Lich

Olvaar whirls back to face me. "Because it would have hurt you," he says quietly, his words hitting me like a physical blow.

I stare at him, speechless. My mind struggles to process this admission, to reconcile it with everything I know about the ruthless demon lord before me.

"I don't understand," I finally manage to say.

Olvaar's laugh is bitter. "Neither do I, little rebel. Neither do I."

I stare at Olvaar, my mind reeling from his admission. "I don't believe you," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "Why would you care about hurting me?"

His eyes flash, a mix of blue and purple swirling in the gray. "Because you're the reason I do anything anymore, Astrid," he snaps, his voice raw with frustration. "I didn't hurt Athena because I knew it would devastate you. I didn't let you meet because I didn't want to remind you how much you hate me."

His words hit me like a physical blow. I stumble back, gripping the edge of his desk for support. He was worried that I would feel that way? He cared?

My mind is reeling, unable to process the emotions springing up in me. I don't get it. Since when did this demon want to make me happy, want me not to hate him?

So I latch onto something I can at least understand. Even if the anger no longer feels right.

"That's... that's not your decision to make," I manage to say, my voice shaking. "She's my sister. I had a right to see her."

"And what would that have accomplished?" Olvaar demands, stepping closer. "You would have been reminded of everything you've lost, of how much you despise being here. With me."

I want to argue, to tell him he's wrong, but the words stick in my throat. Because part of me understands his twisted logic, and that terrifies me.

"You can't make choices for me," I say instead, my anger rising to mask my confusion. "I'm not some fragile thing you need to protect."

"I know that," Olvaar growls. "But I couldn't... I couldn't bear to see the hatred in your eyes when you looked at me after seeing her."

He might say so angrily it sounds like a threat, but the words stun me into silence. I search his face, looking for any sign of deception, but all I see is raw, uncomfortable honesty.

And suddenly, I'm not sure what I want anymore. The realization hits me like a bolt of lightning - I'm no longer certain if I want to be rescued. The thought of leaving this place, of leaving Olvaar, fills me with a confusing mix of emotions I can't begin to untangle.

"I..." I start, then stop, unsure of what to say. My heart races, my mind a chaotic whirlwind of conflicting desires. I should want to escape, to return to my family.

But the thought of never seeing Olvaar again, never engaging in our verbal sparring matches or working together on his strategies... it leaves an ache in my chest I can't explain.

"Astrid?" Olvaar's voice is uncharacteristically gentle, laced with concern.

I look up at him, really look at him, and for the first time, I see beyond the fearsome demon lord. I see the man who's challenged me, respected me, protected me. And I realize, with a jolt of fear and excitement, that my feelings for him have shifted into something I'm not ready to name.

"I don't think I want to leave," I breathe out, daring to take that first step as I start to move toward him.

His eyes watch me as I tentatively take step after step toward him, and it feels like I'm simultaneously being yanked forward by something…else. Like we aren't meant to have this distance between us. I barely leave any room between us at all as I cometo a stop before him, and the anger melts into something more, something dangerous.

"No?" His words lack their normal bite. He's almost as breathless as me, and I shake my head. "I thought you hated me."

I scoff, a broken laugh coming out. "I thought you hated me. That's why you took me."

"Oh, Astrid," he says so softly, I swear I feel my heart try to leave my chest. Try to go to him. He reaches up, cupping my face. "I could never hate you. Don't you see that?"

"No?" I breathe. He shakes his head, and my pulse stumbles as I lean into his touch. "Prove it."

His eyes, swirling with a mesmerizing mix of gray and purple and gold, lock onto mine. "Astrid," he says, his voice low and husky. "We shouldn't..."

But he doesn't move away. Instead, he takes a step closer, his tall frame looming over me. I can feel the heat radiating off his body, smell the intoxicating scent that's uniquely him.

"Why not?" I challenge, tilting my chin up defiantly. "Afraid you can't handle me, V?"

His eyes flash at the nickname, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Oh, little rebel, I can handle you just fine."

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