Chapter 14
Fourteen
Vaskel stared down at Marina, waiting for the familiar pull of desire, the heat that had once consumed him whenever she was near. He waited for his blood to sing, for his resolve to crumble, and for all the old hungers to resurface.
Nothing came.
Where once there had been an inferno, now there was only ash. Where once her beauty had devastated him, now he saw it for what it was. It was a weapon, as cold as the most sharply forged steel. The soul bind might burn in his veins, but his heart remained unmoved.
"No." The word came out steady and certain.
Marina's perfectly sculpted eyebrows rose. "No?"
"I'm happy here, Marina. Genuinely happy." He stepped back, breaking her hold on him. "I have friends who accept me for who I am, not what I can do for them. I have work that matters and a life I've chosen rather than one that was cobbled together from what was stolen from others.”
Her eyes narrowed, but her smile never wavered. "You've gone soft."
"I've grown up." He straightened his shoulders, meeting her gaze without flinching. "I'm not the hellkin you used to know. That version of me who was reckless, hungry for chaos, and willing to bind his soul for power doesn't exist anymore."
Marina circled him slowly, her tail slashing. The snow continued to fall around them, catching in her midnight hair, melting against her crimson skin. She moved with the same lethal grace she always had, but now Vaskel saw the calculation in it, the performance.
“A reformed hellkin,” she purred, stopping in front of him again. "This newfound nobility suits you. It makes you more fascinating.”
"I'm not interested in being fascinating to you."
“Don’t tell me you haven’t missed me, darling, because I’ve missed you.” Her voice cracked, as if the truth had broken its way through the cunning facade. “We were alike, you and me. We understood each other. I haven’t found anyone who’s truly understood me since you.”
Was the hellkin lonely? Vaskel had never imagined her capable of such a human emotion. Not that it mattered. He wasn’t the same hellkin he’d been, and if he’d ever understood her, he didn’t now.
“I’m not like you anymore, Marina. I took a different path once you left. I chose a different life.”
Her expression hardened and her laugh was ice. "Oh, Vaskel. You think you have a choice about this? The soul bind isn't some trivial enchantment you can shrug off because you've developed a conscience. It's eternal."
“But not unbreakable.”
“You think the village apothecary will break it?” Marina's eyes flashed malice, and the marks on his skin flared in response, sending spikes of pain up his arms. "How sweet. You really have gone native, haven't you?"
She stepped closer again, and this time her expression had shifted from seductive to dangerous.
"Let me be very clear, my darling. You can play house in this quaint little village for now, but eventually, the bind will call you back to me.
And when you resist—because I know you will resist—the pain will become unbearable. "
"I can handle pain."
"Can your friends?" The question hung in the frosty air between them.
"My new crew of young hellkins is eager to prove themselves and to earn their place at my side.
If I told them there was a village harboring a contract breaker, a hellkin who'd broken his sacred oath.
.." She trailed off, letting the implications settle like the gathering snow.
Vaskel's hands curled into fists. "You wouldn't."
"Wouldn't I?" She tilted her head, studying him with those burning eyes.
"Your little baker friend—Lira, isn't it? And that dwarf from the Ice Lands. The orc guard and his fathers. The halfling brothers and their fussy gnome friend.” She counted them off on her fingers like a shopping list. "So many soft targets. So many ways for things to go wrong."
"If you touch them—"
"You'll what?" Marina interrupted, her voice amused. "Fight me? Break the bind? You can't, and we both know it. The only way to keep them safe is to honor our deal. Come with me willingly, and this peaceful little village remains peaceful."
She reached up, her hand cupping his cheek with mock tenderness. "Think about it, darling. But don't think too long. My patience isn't infinite, and my crew grows restless."
She rose onto her toes and pressed her lips to his cheek. The kiss burned like frostbite.
"I'll give you three days," she whispered against his ear. "Three days to say your goodbyes, to get your affairs in order. Then you come to me, or I come for them."
He clenched his teeth so hard he could hear them grinding.
For the briefest flash, he thought he caught genuine affection flickering across her face. "You always looked magnificent when you were trying to be noble, Vaskel. It's almost enough to make me genuinely fond of you again."
She pulled away, already melting back into the shadows between the buildings. Her form seemed to dissolve into the swirling snow, but her voice drifted back to him like smoke.
“It will be just like it always was between us, darling. I’ll have you and you’ll have me. Soon enough, you’ll forget all about this village and these people.”
Then she was gone, leaving only the faint scent of brimstone and the phantom burn of her icy kiss on his cheek.
Vaskel stood alone in the falling snow, his body trembling and the marks on his arms pulsing. Each pulse was a reminder of the bond, of the deal he'd made so long ago when he'd been young and stupid and thought powers were worth any price.
Dread settled cold and heavy in his stomach. Marina never made idle threats. If he didn't go with her, she would bring her crew here. They would burn the Tusk & Tail to the ground. They would hurt everyone he cared about, and Marina would make him watch.
Three days. Three days to break an unbreakable bond, or three days to say goodbye to the only real home he'd ever known.
He pressed a hand to his arm and the scorching marks. He believed Marina that the pain would become unbearable. But that wasn't what terrified him.
What terrified him was the thought of Marina's new crew descending on Wayside like crimson locusts, destroying everything beautiful and good.
The snow continued to drift down, the wet flakes covering Marina's footprints as if she'd never been there. But the marks on his skin throbbed with every beat of his heart, counting down until he lost Wayside or Wayside lost everything.