"If you give me my magic back, I can repair the other bed." I steel my voice, pumping as much bravado into it as I can.
"Denizens of hell do not get magic back for at least the first hundred years they're here. You've been here days, and you've already managed to annoy me. Not happening," he clips. “And besides, there are limits to the magic prisoners earn back. Whatever you hope to do with it, I’m certain you won’t be able to.”
My chin dips and I fight the urge to look away from his intense scowl. Can I befriend the devil and convince him to find a way for me to return to Wilder?
Perhaps this is my chance.
"Well, then, I suppose I'm sharing with you two."
Caius claps, the gesture surprisingly genuine. "Then it's settled."
Aggonid merely narrows his eyes, as though daring me to fuck this up. An unspoken challenge to be obedient, lest I face the consequences.
A servant, a small troll-like creature, scurries in with a plate of food and sets it on the table in the adjacent dining room. The scent of roasted vegetables and delicious sauces wafts through the room.
My stomach roars with hunger, demanding satisfaction, and I try to ignore the tantalizing aroma, focusing on my goal. I can make this work. Aggonid doesn't have to be an obstacle—he can be an ally.
For now, I'll eat and plan my next move.
Caius holds out a chair for me, and paired with the white button-up shirt and dress slacks he has on, I'd almost think he's a gentleman.
Almost.
The devil watches us with a smirk, and as I sit, I can feel the heat of his gaze on my neck. He's willing to see what I do now and whether I truly wither in his presence or not.
My lungs strain as I struggle to take a deep breath, my gaze glued to the putrid slop that lies on the plate in front of us. The food squirms and squeals, still alive. Shock makes my eyes bulge with horror, and I spin around to Caius, demanding an answer. "What the hell is this?" I hiss, rage and terror mingling in my voice.
He chuckles, an amused glint in his eyes. "Silly bird, it's ground gnomes."
A horrified cry escapes me. No. No way.
I jump out of my chair and back away from the table, my heart thrashing in my chest. "Ground gnomes? But—that's just cruel!"
We have ground gnomes in Bedlam, and they're little helpers that live in the dirt. If you bury worn clothing, they'll repair the garments in seconds in exchange for something shiny. They are innocent creatures. Harmless.
My stomach churns and I push away from the table, backing away until I feel Caius's breath on my neck. I freeze and turn to look up into his face.
"It's alright," he says softly. His voice is like honey, reassuring and gentle. He places a hand on my shoulder, turning me away while he calls for a servant to bring something else.
With his hand still on me, he leads me away from the table and back to the sofa. I sit there, my fingers wringing and fear coursing through me.
Aggonid says nothing as Caius and I sit together, but I can feel the weight of his stare.
"You can't eat those anymore, Caius," I choke as I turn to him, and I'm surprised when I feel a tear track down my cheek. "Please."
His hand moves to my cheek, his fingers quivering as he brushes away the tear. His thumb moves with an almost reverent slowness as he erases the pain from my face. His eyes appear to crawl deep into my soul, and I shudder from the intensity of his understanding and tenderness.
"It'll cost you, though." Aggonid's voice is heavy, and it sends a shiver through me. He stands, slowly, looming over us like a dark angel.
"What do you mean?" I stammer, my nerves coiled tight.
He smiles coldly and gestures to the new food on the table. "You want us to stop eating ground gnomes? Fine. But you need to give up something in exchange."
Caius winces, knowing how I feel about deals, but doesn't intervene.
I take a deep breath. "What do you want?"
"Something shiny," he purrs. And if he didn't hate me, I'd think he was suggesting something else entirely.