Page 12

TRINITY

T he waves of nausea hit like clockwork—first thing in the morning, sometimes lingering until afternoon. Today marks the third week of this unwelcome ritual, and I'm starting to accept what it means. What we've successfully created.

I curl tighter into the cushioned wicker chair on the back porch, drawing my knees to my chest. The crimson sky of Aerasak stretches above me, clouds drifting like smoke across its alien expanse.

Even after a month here, I still find the view disorienting.

Beautiful, but wrong somehow. A constant reminder of how far I am from everything I've ever known.

A cool breeze carries the metallic scent of Vael's strange garden—those flowers with petals like hammered copper and stems of living silver. The ones that seem to turn toward me whenever I walk past, as though watching. One more peculiarity in this demon world I'm trying to navigate.

My stomach lurches again. I breathe through it, focusing on the horizon beyond the garden where dense forest begins.

Four days since Vael left on another hunt.

He didn't say when he'd return—he never does—but this time, I find myself counting the hours.

Pathetic, really. He's not my savior or my lover.

He's just the demon who's using my body to create his heir.

Still...

When he's here, Domemri keeps her distance. When he's gone, the demon woman makes sure I understand my place.

"Still moping out here?"

Speak of the devil. Literally.

Domemri glides through the doorway, her movements liquid grace.

Today she wears a flowing gown the color of bruises, her white-blonde hair interwoven with those little metal charms that chime with each step.

They catch the light as she approaches, creating tiny rainbows that dance across her translucent skin.

She's beautiful in that alien, predatory way that all demons seem to possess.

"I'm not moping," I say, keeping my voice neutral. "Just getting some air."

Her delicate horns—so different from Vael's massive ones—curve elegantly from her temples, spiraling forward like a crown. She tilts her head, pale violet eyes assessing me.

"Air. Of course." Her smile doesn't reach those eyes. "Nothing to do with the fact that you've been running to the bathing chamber to empty your stomach every morning?"

Heat crawls up my neck. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Please." She flicks one hand dismissively, the gesture somehow both elegant and condescending. "I've been tending to this house for years. I know what breeding looks like."

I uncurl my legs and sit straighter, refusing to be physically smaller than I already am. "Then you know I'm fulfilling my end of the arrangement."

Domemri laughs, the sound like breaking glass. "Your 'arrangement.' How quaint." She circles my chair, trailing her fingers along the wicker. "Do you imagine you're special, human? That you've somehow captured his interest beyond your temporary usefulness?"

I keep my expression blank, a skill honed over years of enduring the whims of powerful men. "I don't imagine anything. We have a deal—I provide an heir, he provides my freedom."

"Freedom." She stops directly in front of me, blocking the view. "And where will you go, little breeder? Back to those filthy dungeons where he found you? Or perhaps you think you'll stay here, playing at being mistress of this house?"

My hands curl into fists in my lap. "My plans aren't your concern."

"Vaelrix is my concern." Something dangerous flashes in her eyes, there and gone. "I've watched over him for longer than your pitiful human lifespan. I've tended his wounds, prepared his meals, warmed his bed when needed."

Ah. There it is—the real source of her animosity. My throat tightens with unexpected jealousy, which is ridiculous. Why should I care who Vael has bedded? It's not as though we have any real connection beyond the purely physical.

"Then you should understand better than anyone that this is just business," I say quietly. "Once the child is born and I've recovered, I'll be gone."

Domemri leans down, bringing her face close to mine. Her scent—like metal left too long in sunlight—fills my nostrils.

"Understand this, human," she whispers. "You are nothing but a vessel. A convenient womb with legs. When your usefulness ends, so will his interest."

I meet her gaze steadily, refusing to flinch. I refuse to let her words settle into me. "You don't need to tell me what I already know."

"Don't I?" She straightens, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles from her gown. "The way you look at him suggests otherwise. The way you linger in his spaces when he's gone. Did you think I wouldn't notice you wandering into his study yesterday, touching his things?"

My cheeks burn. I had gone to his study, drawn by some foolish need to feel closer to him in his absence. Had run my fingers over his books, sat in his chair, imagining him there.

"I was bored," I lie. "This place is a prison, regardless of its comforts."

"A prison with very thick walls." Her smile turns cruel. "Walls that could easily muffle screams, should anything... unfortunate happen before Vaelrix returns."

Fear slides cold fingers down my spine, but I force a laugh. "Are you threatening me? You think Vael wouldn't notice if something happened to the woman carrying his child?"

"Accidents befall humans all the time." She shrugs one shoulder. "Especially fragile, clumsy ones like yourself."

The implication hangs in the air between us. I wrap my arms protectively around my middle, a gesture I immediately regret when her eyes track the movement.

"He won't be pleased if you interfere with his plans," I say, trying to keep my voice from shaking.

"His plans?" Domemri's chiming laugh returns. "Sweet, stupid human. His only plan is continuing his bloodline. You're simply the most convenient path at present." She leans close again, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper. "But convenience can change."

My face remains impassive as she straightens and turns to leave, but inside, my mind races. The threat is clear, even if never explicitly stated. Domemri wants me gone, and a demon with millennia to live isn't likely to be patient about getting her way.

"I'm sure we'll see just how quickly it all can soon enough," Domemri says, leaning so close I can feel her breath on my face.

"You'll see nothing of the sort."

The voice cuts through the air like a blade—deep, commanding, and unmistakably Vael's.

My heart leaps traitorously in my chest as I turn to see him standing in the doorway.

His massive frame fills the space, shoulders squared and stance wide.

The crimson sky behind him frames his silhouette, making the curved horns rising from his head look even more imposing than usual.

His midnight hair is windswept, falling in pieces around his face where it's escaped the leather tie at his nape.

Domemri freezes, her back going rigid. She whirls around, the charms in her hair creating a cascade of tinkling sounds.

"Vaelrix! You've returned earlier than expected.

" Her voice shifts into something honey-sweet, the venom completely vanished.

"I was just checking on your human. She's been rather unwell in the mornings. "

Vael's red-gold eyes narrow to slits as he steps onto the porch. The boards creak beneath his weight. "I heard exactly what you were doing." His gaze slides from Domemri to me, lingering on my arms still wrapped protectively around my middle, then returns to the demon woman. "Pack your things."

"What?" Domemri's composure cracks, her delicate features contorting. "Surely you misunderstood?—"

"I understand perfectly." Vael moves closer, each step deliberate. "You've threatened the carrier of my child. You've overstepped your place in my household. You're dismissed."

Domemri's pale skin flushes an iridescent silver-blue, her eyes widening. "Vaelrix, please. I've served you faithfully for years. This human has bewitched you somehow?—"

"The only one attempting manipulation here is you." His voice remains level, but there's a dangerous edge to it that raises the hair on my arms. "I won't say it again. Pack your things and leave my property before nightfall."

"You can't mean this." Domemri's voice rises, her elegant composure crumbling completely. "After everything we've shared? You would choose this—this temporary vessel over me?" She gestures wildly at me, her pale violet eyes flashing.

Vael crosses his arms over his chest, his expression hardening to granite. "Trinity is carrying my heir. That makes her more valuable than your wounded pride."

"Valuable?" Domemri laughs, the sound brittle and sharp. "You speak of her like she's an asset, but I see how you look at her. She's gotten under your skin somehow."

I hold my breath, unable to look away from Vael's face as his jaw tightens, the muscle there jumping beneath his ash-gray skin.

"My reasons are none of your concern," he says finally. "But threatening anyone under my protection is unforgivable. You know the values of our people better than that."

Domemri's shoulders slump, her elegant horns dipping forward as the fight seems to drain from her.

"Protection," she repeats, almost to herself.

Then her gaze lifts, hardening as it lands on me.

"She'll leave you, you know. The moment she's fulfilled her obligation, she'll be gone. Then what will you have?"

"My heir," Vael answers simply. "Which was always the arrangement."

Something flickers across his face—so quickly I almost miss it. Uncertainty? Regret? I can't be sure, but it's gone in an instant, replaced by that impassive mask he wears so well.

Domemri's lips press into a thin line. "Very well." She straightens, gathering her dignity around her like a cloak. "I'll collect my belongings."

She glides past Vael, giving him a wide berth, but pauses at the doorway to look back at me. "His interest is temporary, human. Remember that when you find yourself discarded." With that parting shot, she disappears into the house.

Vael watches her go, his broad shoulders still rigid with tension. When he finally turns to me, his expression is unreadable.

"Are you alright?" he asks, his voice rough.

I nod, suddenly aware of how vulnerable I must look, curled in this chair with my arms wrapped around myself. I force myself to straighten, to meet his gaze.

"I'm fine." My voice comes out steadier than I feel. "Thank you for... intervening."

His nostrils flare slightly as he studies me. "She won't trouble you again."

I stare up at him, this demon who has just defended me against one of his own. I don't understand him—his motives, his actions, sometimes even his words. But in this moment, I'm achingly grateful for his return.