My stomach turned, not because of fear—but because, deep down, I already knew I was trapped. Not just here in this domain, in this cell, in his grasp—but somewhere deeper. The pull between us, the curse that tethered us. And worse—my own cursed body, which wasn’t rejecting him anymore. Not fully.
I hated that I understood his point.
Still, I squared my shoulders. “You may be the one keeping Harvest out, but you’re not a savior.”
His gaze flicked to mine, eyes unreadable. “I don’t want to be.”
His jaw ticked when I said nothing. “Enough with the expressions!”
So, I made sure to deepen my scowl.
His brow arched. “Would you rather I had put you to sleep back then?”
“Maybe it would have been better,” I spat angrily. “But no, what I want is for you to stop punishing me for somethingyoucaused. You cursed us. You marked us.”
He said nothing as he resumed walking, his silence speaking volumes.
I pushed, “I want you to let me go. I need to help my family.”
“They can’t stop this,” he said flatly. “They never could.”
My heart sank. “Then let me try. If you’re so sure you’re going to win, what’s it matter?”
His voice thundered in reply, hitting me like a blow to the chest. “Accept it. This is where you belong…until you are no more.”
Heat flared behind my eyes. Anger spread through me like poison, bitter and burning. I clenched my fists and stared him down. There was no point arguing with someone who’d already written my fate for me. But I’d prove him wrong. Somehow.
Once we entered his sanctum, he strode to the bed and tossed me onto it. Not roughly, but with enough force to remind me that I didn’t get a choice.
My brows furrowed in confusion, but before I could speak, he muttered, “Don’t think about fading. If I have to chase you, I’ll get creative.”
He crossed his arms with a smirk, standing like he had all the time in the world to watch me squirm. His tail flopped onto the bed beside me, massive and coiling.
I stiffened.
It moved toward me with the slow deliberation of something alive—and aware. The sheer size of it made my stomach churn. Did he make it that way on purpose? Or had Hell warped him so completely even his body bent to its will?
I scrambled backward, chest tight. All of my earlier bravado drained. Maybe he couldn’t touch me in the way he once could, but there were…other ways. Other horrors.
Bile rose in my throat. I’d rescued enough women to know how far some creatures would go to assert dominance.
The Devil sighed like I’d just insulted his intelligence. “Your thoughts are plain on your face, Kitten,” he said, sounding almost bored. “What you’re imagining? It’d kill you. And I don’t want that.”
Then his tone darkened, a grin curling at the corners of his mouth. “But making you uncomfortable? That, I enjoy.”
He wasn’t trying to violate me. He was trying to get in my head. And damn it, it was working. Except… not quite how he expected.
The panic ebbed, replaced by reluctant calm. He wasn’t going to hurt me. Not like that. And yet, he was still punishing me. The tail slowly wrapped around my body in a tight, snake-like coil. My arms, my legs—pinned. I couldn’t move an inch.
I stared up at the ceiling and tried to steady my breathing. I didn’t want him touching me. But being restrained like this—with no threat of worse—somehow soothed me. I hated that.
“Sleep,” he ordered, his voice losing some of its edge as he sat on the edge of the bed with his back to me.
I blinked. “I thought this was punishment.”
“It is.”
I tried wiggling. My shoulders, my arms—everything was held firmly in place. I hated sleeping like this. I liked to sprawl.
