Page 10 of Bargain with the Demon King
"But they were your subjects."
"Which makes their betrayal worse." His thigh brands mine through fabric. "Order requires enforcement. Mercy is weakness here."
"Can I see the village? Talk to the humans?"
"No."
"But they're—"
"Under my protection. Not yours." His hand claims my knee, claws careful through fabric. "You don't have freedom here, Adraya. You have what I allow."
The contact scorches through me. My dress has ridden up, his thumb finding bare skin above my knee. Neither of us mentions it.
"That's not fair."
"Nothing here is fair. Fair is a mortal concept, and you're not in the mortal world anymore." His thumb draws small circles on my skin. "You're in mine."
Silence except for my pulse thundering. His hand remains on my knee, then travels higher to mid-thigh, pressure light but inescapable. The Shadowsteeds pull us through impossible landscape, synchronized movement hypnotic. The absence of normal travel rhythm makes me hyperaware of his touch, of how I'm not pulling away.
"Why protect the humans at all?"
"They're useful. They grow things, make things, provide services demons won't lower themselves to perform." His thumb traces patterns now. He must feel my muscles tensing. "And they chose to stay. That interests me."
"Why?"
"Most mortals flee the moment their contracts end. These didn't. They looked at my realm and decided it was better than wherever they came from." His eyes lock with mine, gold threads pulsing. "Rather like you."
"I didn't choose this."
"Didn't you?" He leans in. His scent fills my head—char and copper and dark intent. "You called for anyone. You offered anything. You got exactly what you asked for."
"To save Chad."
"Yes, the magnificent Chad." Sarcasm drips from the name. His grip tightens on my thigh. "Tell me, does he know you're here? Does he know what you paid for his worthless life?"
"It's not worthless."
"One day, you'll see how wrong you are." His hand climbs higher, stops where thigh meets hip. "And when you do, I'll be there to watch you break."
"I won't break."
"Everyone breaks here." He withdraws his hand. The absence of heat makes me lean toward him before catching myself. His smirk says he noticed. "Some just take longer than others."
The fortress looms—twisted beauty, implied threat. Home now. My new home.
"What happens tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow you continue learning what it means to belong to me."
"And if I refuse?"
He laughs, dark and rich. "Then tomorrow will be significantly more entertaining."
The carriage stops. He exits first, offers his hand. His claws drag across my palm, calculated scratches that spark up my arm. He holds my hand too long, thumb pressing my pulse.
"Your dinner will be brought to your chambers. Eat. Rest. Try not to make so much noise tonight. Your tossing and turning was quite... distracting."
My pulse stutters. "You were listening?"
