Chapter Thirteen #2
He topped it up without a moment’s hesitation.
“I don’t blame you for what happened at the gorge, you know.
After all you have been through, I’m glad you find me worthy of sharing drinks with.
I was beginning to worry you would detest me for centuries.
Companionship is rare in Hell—it would be a shame to lose yours. ”
His words caught me off guard. They seemed so… earnest. Some part of me always believed he saw me as a game, a puzzle to be solved and discarded. I blinked, unsure if the Prince meant what he’d said, or if the wine was already wearing away my reality.
“My options for companionship are limited these days. Besides, I think your servants hate me, especially… her.”
Sitri followed my gaze back towards the door. “Mara? She isn’t a servant. Neither is Apollo, for that matter. They are legates. Officers who command my legions and trusted confidants.”
“You dress your confidants like maids?”
Despite my best efforts, annoyance bled into my voice, making Sitri chuckle.
“She dresses herself. That getup is a weapon in its own right, meant to disarm the unwary mind. I’d almost think you were jealous, darling.”
“Of course not.” I gave a laugh of my own. “What, are you planning to buy gifts for your prisoner?”
A mirror of Sitri’s smile wormed its way onto my face.
It was contagious. Something about the atmosphere shifted, and I realized I hadn’t spent time with him in such a casual setting before.
It was one thing to work under him and take the long walks in Lantyca that the task demanded of me. It was another to join him for drinks.
And here I was, wine in hand, making merry with my captor. Somehow, I didn’t really mind.
“For a prisoner?” he asked. “Unlikely. But for my confidants, for my inner circle, in a time after this war? Perhaps. I’m prepared to offer you a place among our ranks should you behave yourself, but I cannot let a human into my world. Not without consequences.”
I raised an eyebrow, and my smile faded. “Consequences?”
The Prince’s stare landed on my arm. “Humans are fragile property, darling. If you want to work with me, you must do so as my equal. My bindings could become a curse—or they could be your emancipation. The choice is yours.”
“I would rather be free of your influence and keep my human weakness.”
“Are you really so free as you are, though?”
I grimaced. He had a point. I’d spent my time in Hell as a prisoner. As his prisoner.
“I could be free if you let me go.”
“I’m doing you a favor,” he said, still smiling as he drained his cup. “Humans are chattel here. Most are enslaved as lowly beasts, or worse. If I didn’t keep you cooped up, another demon would stake their claim, and they wouldn’t bother giving you a say.”
“What about the other humans who turn up in your kingdom, and aren’t as lucky as I am? Do they get to choose?”
“Of course not.”
Sitri gave a cruel laugh. He set his chalice down and propped his elbow on the loveseat’s armrest. He leveled his head on top of his hand.
“I show no mercy to murderers, rapists, and war criminals. But you? You can be reasoned with. My legates are the same; they are here by choice, and they may leave if they wish. You can be among them. Share in their freedom.”
At once, the truth hit me, and I recognized his deception for what it was.
My mouth went bone dry. Another sip of strange, viscous wine soothed it.
Sitri had lowered my defenses, I’d let him in, and he once again took the opportunity to lure me into his snare.
I shifted in my chair as I struggled with the urge to put distance between myself and the Prince.
“I can’t… I won’t. I could never.”
The alcohol burned through my resistance like a fire. My protest was so weak that even I didn’t believe it. I wanted to be free. That’s all I’d ever wanted. I sold my soul to achieve that all those years ago. Sitri knew that; he understood how potent freedom was as bait.
There was a part of me, no matter how small, that would embrace the idea of a new, demonic self if it allowed me to break my vows to Vapula, to escape my subjugation at Sitri’s hands. Even as I entertained the thought, my conscience cried out in revolt.
If I surrendered my humanity, it would be forever lost. I’d be letting him turn me into a monster just like him, like Vapula—or worse, like the hundreds of bestial slaves who toiled away in their cities. In casting off one chain, I would only adopt another, which couldn’t be removed.
To let him win, to accept his bindings and this unwanted transformation, was simply out of the question.
As if following the same logic, Sitri’s smile faded. His brow furrowed. I almost believed he was concerned about me, maybe even sympathetic.
“I will never force you,” he said, his voice low and soft. “If I am to own you, it will be your choice.”
The last of the wine drained from the first bottle and into Sitri’s chalice. This time, he downed it in a single smooth motion. The movement of his throat was hypnotic. I shook my head, my hands trembling and my chest tightening.
I was afraid of him, of myself. Afraid that one day, in a moment of weakness, I might give in.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t believe that,” I whispered. My eyes stung with the first hints of tears. I fought them back with everything I had.
“It’s alright, Lillia. Take a deep breath. If I had planned to force this on you, I would have done so by now. This is your decision. Not mine.”
I followed his command without thinking—my body obeyed him on its own. His words, his face, seemed sincere. Sitri meant it. He had to. I couldn’t bring myself to believe any differently, not when my soul rested in his hands.
“Okay.”
“Good,” he whispered as he watched the tension leave me. “You aren’t obligated to stay. I will even walk you to your room if you wish.”
“I know.” Given how quiet my words were, I wasn’t sure if Sitri heard me at all.
He’d trapped me in his kingdom, in his mansion, but I knew damn well I wasn’t trapped here in this chair. The Prince hadn’t commanded my presence; he’d invited it, an important distinction when my soul depended on something as fickle as a demon’s whims.
Somewhere deep inside me, I knew why I still sat by his side.
He was my only company in a dangerous, lonely world.
I didn’t want to admit it—not to him, not to myself—but in the days we’d been apart, against my better judgment, I had missed him.
I’d missed my warden, missed the demon Prince who kept me prisoner, and it made me feel sick.
As that thought surfaced, I pushed it aside. The alcohol did its work, muddling my mind, and the last thing I needed was to risk that secret coming out. I drank deeply from my chalice to wash it away.
What I didn’t do was leave.
“Another glass, then?” he asked, his face finally relaxing.
I bit my lip, weighing my options. Together, we’d drained one bottle, but two more remained unopened.
The alcohol numbed my pain, soothed my anxiety, and I couldn’t turn it down.
Not here, not now, not when I had no idea if I’d get another chance to drown my sorrows.
I had already called my truce with the Prince. I would allow him to honor it.
I heaved a heavy sigh and offered my chalice to Sitri.
“Yes, please. Just one more.”