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. Ashisprisoner.
“I couldbe 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?Youcan 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.”
