Page 11

I straighten my spine, tugging at my dress where it reveals too much thigh. "You shouldn't be lurking in shadows. The captain doesn't appreciate others eyeing his possessions."
Vael steps fully into the light. He's even more imposing than I remember—towering height, muscular frame moving with predatory grace, those thick horns curling up from his head. Unlike the captain's gaudy attire, he wears simple black, the fabric doing nothing to disguise his power.
"How long have you been watching?" I demand, crossing my arms over my chest.
"Long enough." His gaze travels slowly down my body, but unlike the captain's leering appraisal, his assessment feels clinical, like he's cataloging injuries. "Long enough to know the captain isn't what you want."
A bitter laugh escapes me before I can stop it. "And you would know what I want?"
"I know what you don't want." He gestures to where Drez'kor disappeared. "That. Him. His hands on you."
Heat flushes my cheeks—embarrassment or anger, I'm not sure which. "You don't know anything about me."
"I know you're smart enough to play a dangerous game." He takes another step closer. Unlike the captain, he maintains a respectful distance. "I watched you manipulate him into promising better conditions for the other humans."
My mask slips for a fraction of a second. "You heard that?"
"Enhanced hearing." One corner of his mouth quirks up, not quite a smile. "Demon, remember?"
"Hard to forget." I look pointedly at his horns, then away.
A heavy silence falls between us. In the distance, I hear voices—other demons enjoying the evening gardens. Vael cocks his head slightly, listening, then relaxes.
"We're alone," he assures me. "For now."
"Lucky me. Another demon who wants a private audience." I make my voice cutting, defensive. "What is it you want, Vael? To take the captain's leftovers?"
His expression darkens, jaw tightening. "I'm not here for that."
"Then why are you here?"
He studies me for a long moment, those strange eyes searching mine. Then he cocks his head to one side, the gesture oddly animal-like. "Tell me, Trinity. Don't you want freedom?"
The question hits me like a physical blow. Freedom. Such a simple word for something so impossibly distant.
"Freedom?" I repeat, unable to keep the bitterness from my voice. "What would a demon know about that? You're not the ones locked in dungeons, passed around like party favors."
"No," he agrees, surprising me. "But I know a cage when I see one. Even one gilded with silk dresses and private chambers."
I laugh, the sound hollow even to my own ears. "And I suppose you're offering to spring me from this cage? Out of the goodness of your demonic heart?"
His expression doesn't change, but something shifts in those predator eyes. "Maybe I have my reasons."
"Everyone has reasons," I counter. "Usually selfish ones."
"You don't trust easily." It's not a question.
"I wonder why." I gesture at my revealing dress, at the gardens, at the whole situation.
Vael's gaze softens fractionally. "Smart. Trust is dangerous."
"So is hope," I whisper before I can stop myself.
He's still watching me, those otherworldly eyes taking in every detail. Something about his gaze feels different—like he's looking at me, not through me or at parts of me.
"You never answered my question," Vael says, his voice oddly gentle for such an imposing figure.
"Which one? You demons ask so many." I attempt a casual shrug, but my shoulders are too tense to pull it off convincingly.