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“No, p-please,” he pleaded as I cracked my knuckles. The smell of urine and a guttural scream filled the air.
Rendering such a proud man to a babbling, feeble coward was satisfying.
And I was just getting started.
“One,” I counted gleefully before lifting him and slamming my knee into his already broken dick.
“Fuck!” he yelled out as he writhed against my hold.
“Two,” I said as I dropped him to the floor and let hellish fire fill my hand, then slammed it into his chest. The fire burned through his shirt and blistered his skin, turning it black.
He scrambled away, patting his chest and shaking violently.
I gave him as much mercy as he showed the patients in his secret hallway.
None.
“Three.” This time I bent down and carefully carved a line with my claw from temple to chin, diagonally across his face.
No longer would he be the egotistical narcissist he once was. His face was ruined, and a scar that deep would be jagged and a constant reminder of his sins.
He choked out a sob, no longer able to speak.
That was fine, he would have more screams for me in a moment.
“Four,” I sang out as I broke both of his hands. At this point, he was barely able to scream.
“Don’t kill him,” Hel shouted in my head. It was so much stronger in my demon form that I nearly dropped to my knees. “He’s done.”
“Almost,” I corrected, doing the one thing I knew would hold power over him and keep him in line. It would keep Harlow safe.
Every demon had a calling card, one we rarely shared. Hel bestowed mine upon me the moment I connected with my demon form, and I carved it into his wrist now, deep enough he’d never be able to get rid of it.
He was now officially my slave, forced to follow orders when asked of him.
Another demon couldn’t intervene, and he couldn’t cut it away. It was absolute.
Happy with my work, I stood and looked down at the shell of a human curled in on himself. I’d rendered him useless in many ways, and that was more satisfying than his death.
Though that would come despite Hel’s protests if he ever did something this vile again.
“Next time, death will come for you. Don’t touch her again.”
Roman
Tuesday Evening
Third Floor
Seeing such a strong girl reduced to the lifeless person in Ivar’s arms had anger pulsing through me.
I was glad I was still in charge and not Hiro… this would break him.
“Clean her,” the demon commander ordered me. I glared up at his soulless, black eyes but complied because Harlow needed it. “She had a heat. I gave her suppressants for now but she needs her medication.”
Ivar’s voice shook with barely suppressed rage yet he was gentle with our battered mate.
Fuck. A heat? My stomach rolled at the thought of her being vulnerable around Vane. I’d trust the demons over them. They’d feed on her suffering but weren’t interested in fucking humans.
