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 collectinghis 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 aroundagain 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 justastrategist. I’mthestrategist. Haagenti’s second, and not without due cause.”
“Right.Thestrategist.”
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.
