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I don’t want to lock the door.
She won’t get far, if she does decide to run. The Trolvor will catch her, and then the King will most certainly get involved. But I can’t have that. So, I turn the lock, then secure the one above it, beyond her short reach. “Now,” I say, playing at calm, though I am the furthest thing from it. “Isn’t that better?”
She crosses her slender arms furiously.
I look her up and down, measuring her against my expectations. King Asmodeus described humans as docile and obedient. He did not warn me that there would be such troublesome creatures such as she among them. She doesn't even appear to be of the same stock as the others, who align quite closely to the King’s description.
I enjoy the silence a little longer before I move to sit.
As soon as I look away, however, she begins again. “Listen here. You have no right to keep us in such terrible conditions,” she protests. “Those women are injured, and they will get sick in a place like that! You cannot leave them to-”
Before I even consider my actions, I’ve dragged her against the wall, pressing my hand against her sternum so as to pin her to the spot. Her inhalations grow shallow, and her cool, sweet breath mingles with mine.
Up close, I can see the appeal.
She licks her full lips, her mouth parting as if the words have finally abandoned her. Her eyes flit between mine and my mouth as I speak, low and threatening. “No, you listen. There are rules in Ti’lith, and you will abide them.”
Beneath my hand, I can feel a warm organ increasing in pace, thudding a rapid rhythm into my palm. Fear, I think to myself, enjoying the scent of it washing off her. That’s better.
She lets her head fall back, and her eyes are guarded. “What rules?”
This woman never ceases to surprise me, though her body radiates a visceral terror, she maintains a look of disinterest, even defiance. I’ll take what I can get out of this one. I bare my sharpened teeth at her throat, nudging her chin up as if I mean to sink my teeth in. “You are a human, and will follow my every command without question.”
A sound of irritation escapes her throat but she does not interrupt.
I back up to gauge her hard expression. “Here, in Ti’lith, there are creatures that would snap you up in their jaws and tear you to pieces without a second thought. They have never seen a human before, and might mistake you for their supper. Those other humans are in the safest place for them, for the time being. If they got out,” I break off, running my dark tongue over my teeth, “their lives would be forfeit.”
Her eyes go round as she takes in my words, and her jaw clenches.
“Now, as for you.” I let the threat hang in the air, satisfied when she swallows hard. “Be good, and maybe you’ll live to serve your purpose on the island.”
“And what purpose is that?”
Her simple question makes me halt. I have other things to worry about, such as where the missing human has gone and the pile of paperwork that awaits me. But if she knew what we intended for her friends, and for her, she would certainly try to escape. I chew on that thought, then finally come up with an answer. “You will serve a higher cause here than living in squalor beneath your dark elf masters.”
“Says you,” she retorts. “We are slaves, just the same.”
“So, you are,” I conclude, refusing to deny the truth of it. “And you will satisfy your obligations in silence, and gladly, for it is the King who has demanded your devotion.”
Her lip is trembling again. “He is no king of mine.”
I can’t help but laugh at her defiance, shattering the rising tension with my raking chuckle. It seems to stir her better judgment, and she goes quiet again. “He is, now.” I pretend to lose interest in her, withdrawing to leave her to tremble.
I could shackle her to the floor but it is too much trouble. She can’t go anywhere, and I feel that I’ve sufficiently smothered her rebellious spirit, at least for the time being. Surely, when she’s feeling indignant again, she’ll make it known.
“I have work to do,” I say dismissively, sitting in front of the massive pile of paperwork I still have to go through. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch her sink to the floor, her fingers tangled in her golden hair as she comes to terms with her fate.
And, though I get back to my work, that familiar misery remains at bay. With her around, it’s almost as if I’m back in the kennels with my Ur’gin hounds, not exactly happy, but it’s not all that bleak, either.
There is the trouble of her sister, though.
Someone has taken one of my humans while I wasn’t looking.
It is my job to handle them, and still, they went over my head and snatched one, anyway. I’ll have to speak with the King about it, but in the meantime, maybe this little spitfire can tell me more about the missing human woman.
15
CORA
