Page 14 of Illicit Bargain

“Remember, don’t let them touch you,” he says, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down my spine. “You’re not theirs.”

I nod, my fingers brushing the hidden dagger strapped to my thigh. “I know. Just keep an eye out for any surprises.”

He smirks, the corner of his mouth lifting in that predatory way. “Always do.”

The guard at the door eyes me up and down, suspicion flickering in his gaze before he opens the door. Inside, the air is thick with the scent of incense and sweat. I step into the dimly lit hall, my movements graceful and deliberate. The dark elves’ laughter echoes around me, mingling with the music that sets the pace for my dance.

Captain Kynor sits at the head of the room, his eyes narrowing as I approach. His reputation precedes him—ruthless, powerful, and a target that promises a step closer to my vengeance.

"What brings you here, girl?"

"You, Captain. I would like to please you," I reply gently, running my hand along my clothes that accentuate my features.

With a sharp nod, he relaxes into his seat. “Dance,” he commands, his voice sharp and expectant.

I begin to move, each step calculated, each sway of my hips designed to captivate. The room falls silent, the dark elves’ attention drawn to the dance I’ve perfected under Javan’s relentless training. My confidence isn’t just a façade anymore; it’s a weapon, honed and deadly.

Kynor’s gaze lingers on me, a twisted smile forming on his lips. “You’re different from the others. More... spirited.”

“Is that what you like?” I ask, my voice soft but laced with challenge.

He leans back, eyes glittering with interest. “Depends. What else can you do?”

I lower myself to the floor, arching my back in a display of flexibility. “I can make you forget everything but me.”

His laughter is low and dangerous. “We’ll see about that.”

I catch Javan’s eye from the shadows, where he takes the form of a dark elf. The plan hinges on Kynor’s arrogance, his belief that he’s untouchable.

"Come here, girl. Follow," he says, rising from his seat and beckoning me to follow.

Soon enough, he leads me to his room. Kynor’s bedroom is a lavish display of power and cruelty. Chains hang from the walls, and the air is thick with the metallic tang of blood. He motions for me to stand by the bed, his eyes gleaming with sadistic delight.

“Strip,” he commands, tossing a whip onto the bed. “We’re going to have some fun.”

I comply, peeling off my clothes slowly, deliberately. My heart pounds, but my face remains a mask of calm. As I step closer, I notice the intricate designs on the whip, each one a testament to the pain it’s inflicted.

He grabs a set of leather straps and moves to bind my wrists. “Do you like pain?” he asks, his breath hot against my neck.

I meet his gaze, a sly smile curling my lips. “Not as much as you will.”

He pauses, confusion flickering across his face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

I laugh, a dark, mocking sound that fills the room. “You ever get a taste of your own medicine, Kynor?”

His eyes narrow, anger replacing confusion. “You dare mock me?”

He raises the whip, but before he can bring it down, the room grows colder. The shadows seem to thicken, and a presence fills the space. Javan steps out of the darkness, his form shifting from that of a dark elf to his true, demonic self. His wings spread, and his eyes glow with a malevolent light.

Kynor’s face pales. “You... you’re the demon! I've seen your image! You're from the dungeons!”

Javan’s laugh is a low, dangerous rumble. "You're a wise one, Kynor.”

I rush to Javan, my hands gripping his arm as I press my lips to his. The kiss is fierce, filled with the promise of revenge and the thrill of power. Kynor tries to bolt for the door, but Javan’s hand flicks, and the door slams shut with a force that rattles the room.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Javan growls, stepping closer to the terrified dark elf.

Kynor stumbles back, eyes wide with fear. “Please, I didn’t know?—”

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