Chapter Twenty-Five
The door across the room opened. I lifted my head.
It wasn’t surprising to see Sitri standing in its frame.
He was the only one with a key to the royal chambers, at least as far as I knew.
So long as I’d slept here, no other demons had dared to enter.
With war on the horizon, fixing my old bedroom wasn’t a priority, and I didn’t plan to complain.
That place had been a prison in disguise, and for the first time since my death, I was finally free.
It would be a blessing to leave behind the memories I’d made there.
What did surprise me was his lack of armor. He wore plain, well-tailored black clothes, the same color as his hair. Though he had his weapons on him, he hadn’t suited up for a fight.
“Not hunting for her today?” I sat up and rubbed my eyes as the Prince closed the door behind him. The wound in my stomach protested with sharp pangs as I moved.
“The rounds I made yesterday will be my last,” Sitri said. “She is likely past the gorge by now. Mara vanished, along with that grappling hook of hers. The trail ends at the bridge. Chasing her into occupied territory would be a fool’s gambit.”
“And what if she makes it to Vapula? Does she know about our preparations? Our strategy?”
In crept a suffocating silence, laden with fears and anxieties neither of us dared to give form.
Sitri disarmed, stowing his weapons on the desk before unlacing and stripping off his boots. Then, he came to my side.
“That hardly matters. She was the beating heart of Lantyca. Even without that knowledge, she could see it all torn down if she sides with the Duke. We can only wait and hope that isn’t her intent.”
“I almost had her. If I’d been just a little faster, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
“The fact that you still stand is no small miracle, darling. Next time, don’t rush headlong into danger. Had you stayed by my side, you would have been safe.”
“I don’t want to be safe,” I muttered. “I want to be useful.”
Sitri gave me a strained smile. “Oh, how alike we are. If use is your only concern, it will do you well to remember you hold more value in one piece.”
Through his magic, something came to me that I hadn’t quite expected.
He didn’t want it to be true, didn’t want us to be alike; not for fear of what I could do to him, but for fear of what I’d suffer if I followed in his footsteps.
As soon as the notion appeared, it vanished from the air, leaving me to wonder if it had ever been there at all.
The Prince settled beside me on the bed, and with one hand on my shoulder, he coaxed me back into the mattress. I let his body guide mine. His warmth washed over me. His breath stirred against my face as Sitri brought his lips to mine.
I wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer. Heat flushed my skin, gathered in my hips. I pressed my thighs together, wanting to drive my urges out, but they only worsened. We hadn’t had much time alone the past few days, and now that he was here, in bed with me…
Sitri pulled away with a low, husky laugh. “Hoping for a distraction, darling? You will be disappointed.”
I groaned. “You’re such a tease.”
“Why, thank you.” He gave a smile and leaned in again, running his lips along my neck, making me shudder. “And before you get any ideas, don’t try sating that appetite yourself. Your muscles require time to heal. You are mine to tease for a few days longer.”
The heat of arousal between my hips rose to my cheeks, settling into an uncomfortable blush. Memories surfaced of aching need, fulfilled after past couplings on my own terms, the anger of any temporary lovers who’d caught me. Did Sitri think he’d made me feel the same?
“I haven’t thought about… I mean, since I came here, I haven’t touched myself at all. Not even—”
Sitri pressed his finger to my lips, silencing my protests. “Then perhaps you should try once you have recovered. There is no shame in pleasure. You will be surprised what lessons you can learn from your body if only you dare to explore it.”
That response only worsened my embarrassment, which smoldered in my stomach and on my cheeks.
It was the last thing I’d expected him to say.
Then again, this was new territory for me.
One-night stands and Vapula’s abuse couldn’t compare to this strange familiarity Sitri and I were building. I still wasn’t sure what to make of it.
With every passing day, I worried less about him luring me into a trap, but the idea that this powerful demon Prince really wanted me, when he could have any of his thousands of subjects, seemed… wrong. Na?ve, somehow.
Thankfully, he had other matters to address and didn’t press the issue further.
Sitri pulled back the blanket, slid his fingers beneath the seam of my shirt, and lifted it. I sucked in a breath at the sight he exposed. An angry red stripe marked my lower stomach, running from one side to the other, and bits of thread laced the wound together.
He had insisted on stitching and cauterizing the gash, but it hadn’t been easy to accomplish.
Wine had barely dulled the pain. It took a joint effort from Sitri and Apollo to hold me down while they worked, and even then, my newfound demonic strength made me difficult to handle.
Despite my efforts to stay still, the demon men had to work together to restrain me.
I hadn’t realized how damning the injury was when Mara inflicted it. She’d torn my guts, spilled my blood all over the badlands. No human could have survived an attack like that.
It was a good thing I wasn’t one of those anymore.
The wound was healing supernaturally well, despite the lust demons’ shoddy work. After a single day, it no longer wept or bled. After two, the skin was fusing over. Soon it would be nothing more than a scar, an eternal reminder of what had transpired.
Sitri ran his fingers over it. I flinched as the tender touch spawned sparks of pain.
“These stitches need to come out today,” he murmured as he inspected the wound.
My heartbeat quickened. “This won’t be as bad as yesterday, will it…?”
“No. It won’t. It may be uncomfortable, but not painful—just a little tugging. Think you can manage?”
“Probably.”
It was a lie. The Prince’s smile faded. Reality did not conform to my wishes, and we both knew that.
“I’ll be right back, darling.”
We shared one last kiss before he stood and set about collecting his tools. The only thing to do was wait. When he returned, he brought metal scissors and pointed tweezers. The sight of them made me shudder.
“Did you really have to suture this?” I asked as Sitri moved in. “Couldn’t I have eaten, slept, and waited for the wound to close on its own?”
He brushed back my clothes, and it took all my effort not to pull away. I tossed one of my arms over my face—anything to get out of watching him extract the threads.
“It would have healed too slowly. Wound care still speeds healing, and time is short. We can’t afford to lose any more than is necessary.”
Cold metal brushed my skin. I flinched. The scissors hissed as they cut a strand of thread.
“I’m going to pull these out now. Just a little pinch, darling.”
I nodded and gritted my teeth. Sitri’s fingers played over my pelvis for a moment.
Then, the sutures tugged against my stomach.
He was right; it wasn’t painful, but the feeling was terribly invasive, like coiled worms wriggling free of my body.
My abdominal muscles twitched despite my efforts to still them.
“I had one other thing to discuss,” Sitri started, cutting the next suture. “I need a favor from you, if you are willing to hear me out.”
Another tug made my stomach churn. The clicking of scissors and the shearing of thread followed.
“What is it?”
Sitri chuckled as I squirmed. Even with my eyes covered, I knew he must be grinning. “You’re beautiful, writhing beneath me, darling. I only wish the terms were better.”
“Don’t butter me up,” I groaned. “What do you want me to do?”
A momentary hesitation. “You should be able to move around again starting tomorrow, but it will be a few days longer before we can resume your training. Apollo is heading the military preparations. I am busy aiding him, and Bronwen is spoiled rotten. With combat on the horizon, the four of us must be fed.”
I took a deep breath, holding it as Sitri plucked at a thread just below my belly button, and only letting it loose once the metal left my skin. This marked the halfway point of my torture.
“I can cook and keep things here in order,” I said. “It might even be good for me. Lying here in the dark is starting to stress me out.”
“Thank you, darling. And one last thing?”
“That being?”
Sitri’s smile widened, betraying the sinful humor he indulged in. “The strategist has been sulking in the dining room for four days straight now. When you pass through, tell her that I send my warmest regards.”
“So… you’re a strategist?” I asked, picking at the mushrooms on my plate with a fork.
Bronwen snorted. “Since you’re new here, I’ll forgive the insult. I’m not just a strategist. I’m the strategist. Haagenti’s second, and not without due cause.”
“Right. The strategist.”
I didn’t know why I bothered making nice.
I’d become a demon, her equal, but Bronwen still made me feel like I was back in my human skin.
Beneath her in every way. I forced myself to take another bite.
The demoness eyed me as I did. Frustration boiled in my chest, threatening to spill over into anger.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Just wondering why Sitri’s pet is so ill-informed. The Kingdom of Lust and Lies doesn’t train them like they used to, eh?”
“I’ve been a demon for less than two weeks,” I snapped. “In case you haven’t noticed, war is coming, and no one’s spared the time to teach me. Are you planning to help fix that problem, or are you just going to keep contributing?”