At least, I hope.
“Freedom is not what she wants, is it, pet?”
A choked sound leaves her and her lashes flutter shut.
I don’t need to see the guilt in her eyes when she meets my gaze to know he’s inside her.
“Beautiful, isn’t she? So pure and willing. A delicate toy your sons couldn’t even be man enough to touch.”
“Stop it,” Lenora breathes. “Don’t talk about them.”
Her warning is ignored as the demon continues,“Imagine having this in your bed foryearsand letting her go to waste. As their father, you must be so ashamed.”
“You don’t know anything about my boys,” I bite out around the molars I’m grinding to dust.
Lenora moans, head falling back. The hazy, black mist around her throat tightens. Between her thighs, hidden by the front of her top, I can just make out the steady rhythm of his thrusting.
I shouldn’t be enjoying the sight.
I shouldn’t be growing hard beneath the soft fabric of my slacks.
But that’s what he wants. This is torture. A blatant expression of power. He wants me to know we’re both at his mercy.
“I know they were weak,”the demon murmurs.“Just like you. But I suppose I should thank you for raising such sad specimens. Without their stupidity, it would have been much harder to slip into her life.”
“Stop!” With a growl, Lenora tries to jerk out of the creature’s hold. “Don’t talk about them.” She’s breathing hard, voice thick with emotion that mirrors the tears in her eyes. “You didn’t know them. You don’t … you don’t understand anything. How can you? You’re a demon. A monster. You only know how to hurt people.”
The voice urging me to tell her to stop, to not antagonize the creature pounds against the walls of my skull, but my tongue has gone still in my mouth. It lies fat and swollen against the back ofmy bottom teeth. I try to wiggle it, but all I can manage are weak whines that won’t convert to words.
“Exactly,”the demon growls from her side of the room.“I am a monster. Your useless morals mean nothing to me. Your pain means nothing to me. You are nothing! You mean nothing.”
I don’t miss the flicker of hurt that passes over her face. I can’t tell if the demon saw it, too, but it’s suddenly too still. Too quiet. There is a strange hum in the air like even he is stunned by his own words.
“I don’t care what you think of me,” she whispers slowly. “I don’t care if you kill me or give me to your brothers. But don’t ever talk about my boys again. They don’t exist to you.”
Seconds pass into infinity where I can feel the roar of my own blood between my ears. Not fear. I’m pissed. This whole thing is insane. Unnecessary. Something has clearly triggered him and rather than communicate his frustrations, he’s throwing a tantrum like a child.
And even while I think it, even while I stew in the fact that he hurt Lenora for no good reason, I realize my own shortsightedness.
He’s a demon.
He doesn’t have feelings.
All he understands is pain and fear. Causing them. The pulling and tucking of blankets around Lenora after she’d fallen asleep in Sarai Duval’s bed was a set up for this. A fake to lure us into a false sense of security so he can only hurt her deeper. There is no other explanation. There is no reason for him to be this cruel otherwise.
“I could kill them all, fulfil my end of the bargain and claim your soul within the hour,”he mocks her.“It’s only that you enjoy their suffering that I have prolonged their deaths for as long as I have.”
Lenora’s chin is tipped in defiance. It’s angled with unhampered rage. Her gaze stays fixed on a point high out of sight as if she’s refusing to meet his eye.
“Kill them. I would rather end this than spend another moment with you.”
“Is that so?”
To her credit, she says nothing, but continues to stand in silent challenge as the room thrums around us. The echo of his contemplation pools in the musty air.
I continue to fight my body’s resistance, the hold he seems to wield on my very control. I loathe him. Loathe his power and strength. Loathe my own helplessness. I wish I were capable of defeating him for good, but I can only stand like a mute idiot while Lenora faces him alone.
Again.
