Page 7 of Caged By the Lich

"The eastern territories," Father blurts out. "I'll give you full control of the mining operations there."

Olvaar scoffs. "Those mines are barely producing anymore. Try again, Ilreth."

Father's hands shake as he runs them through his hair. "Then... then the arcane scrolls. The ones from the ancient library. They're yours."

My eyes widen. Those scrolls are priceless, containing spells and knowledge that Father has guarded jealously for centuries. To offer them up so easily...

Olvaar leans in menacingly. "And how many of those scrolls have you already traded away to cover your other debts, Ilreth? Don't think I don't know about your dealings with the Crimson Claw syndicate."

I feel like I've been punched in the gut. The Crimson Claw? Father's been dealing with them? They're notorious for their brutality, even by demon standards.

Father's face pales. "I... I can explain-"

"Save it," V snarls. "Your web of lies is unraveling, Ilreth. How many more creditors are you juggling? How deep does this go?"

With each accusation, Father seems to shrink. The proud, powerful demon I've known all my life is crumbling before my eyes, replaced by a desperate, cornered creature.

"The expansion at the coast," Father says, his voice hollow. "The shipping contracts. My seat on the High Council. It's all yours. Just... just leave Astrid out of this."

My mind reels. The extent of Father's debt is staggering. How long has this been going on? How much has he risked - how much has he lost - without Athena and me knowing?

Olvaar's cruel laughter cuts through my thoughts. "Oh, Ilreth. You and I both know there is no other way. And to think, all this time you've been playing the part of the benevolent lord, raising your little human pets while your empire crumbles around you."

I clench my fists, anger and betrayal warring inside me. All those years of struggling to prove myself, of fighting to carve out a place in this world - and Father's been watching it fall all away behind our backs.

It was only a matter of time before he was going to have to sell us to save himself.

"You're a fool," Olvaar hisses. "You've left yourself with nothing to bargain with. Nothing except..."

His gaze slides back to me, and I feel a chill run down my spine. In that moment, I realize that this isn't just about a debt. It's about humiliation. It's about Olvaar breaking Father completely.

And I'm the key to making that happen.

With that, Olvaar looks at the demons just behind me, giving a nod that makes my stomach lurch. I don't make it more than a step before I'm in the grasp of one of the beasts behind me.

I thrash against the iron grip of Olvaar's henchmen, my heart pounding in my ears. "Let go of me, you bastards!" I snarl, kicking out wildly. My heel connects with something solid, and I hear a grunt of pain. Good.

"Father!" I scream, twisting my head to look back at Ilreth. His face is ashen, eyes wide with horror. "Don't let them do this!"

But he just stands there, frozen, as the demons drag me towards the door. Fury and betrayal surge through me. After everything, he's just going to watch them take me?

"Astrid!" Athena's voice cuts through the chaos. She's pushing through the crowd, tears streaming down her face. "No, please! You can't take her!"

I reach out for her, but one of the henchmen yanks my arm back roughly. Pain shoots through my shoulder, and I bite back a cry.

"Enough of this spectacle," Olvaar's cold voice cuts through the air. He strides forward, his presence parting the crowd like a knife. "Take her to the carriage. Now."

The demons redouble their efforts, practically lifting me off my feet as they haul me towards the exit. I kick and writhe, my gown tearing in the process. I don't care. I won't make this easy for them.

"You won't get away with this!" I yell, my voice raw with anger and fear. "I'm not some object you can just claim!"

Olvaar's cruel laugh echoes through the hall. "Oh, but I already have, little rebel."

As we near the door, panic claws at my throat. This can't be happening. This can't be real. But the rough hands gripping my arms, the shocked faces of the party guests, the cool night air hitting my face as we step outside – it's all terrifyingly real.

I catch one last glimpse of the mansion – my home, my life – before I'm shoved unceremoniously into a waiting carriage. The door slams shut, plunging me into darkness.

I throw myself against the door, pounding my fists against the wood. "Let me out!" I scream, my voice breaking. But it's useless. I can hear the sounds of horses neighing, of wheels beginning to turn.

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