Page 7

VAEL

T rinity's expression hardens as we approach the entrance to the dungeons.

The playful spark that had briefly lit her eyes in the garden dims, replaced by something cooler, more calculated.

I watch her transformation with fascination—the way her shoulders straighten, her chin lifts, her entire demeanor shifting into the practiced facade I first witnessed.

"Stay close," she murmurs as we reach the entrance to the compound. "And try to look... possessive."

I raise an eyebrow at the instruction, but follow her lead.

When we pass the first guard—a hulking brute with curved horns and dull eyes—I let my hand settle at the small of her back.

The guard's gaze slides over Trinity with momentary interest before landing on me.

Recognition flickers across his features, followed by immediate deference. He steps aside without a word.

Trinity's pulse jumps beneath my palm, but her expression remains neutral. Impressively so.

"They know you," she whispers as we move past the guard station.

"I have a certain reputation." I don't elaborate. Let her imagine what kind of work earns that particular brand of fearful respect. Even here, word of who killed that spineless demon in the alley spread fast.

The dungeons reek of sweat and desperation, the stench growing stronger as Trinity leads me down winding corridors.

My jaw clenches at the conditions—dark, damp cells crowded with thin, haunted-looking human women.

Some press against the bars as we pass, eyes widening at the sight of Trinity walking freely with a demon.

Others shrink back, terror etched into their gaunt faces.

Trinity stops at the largest cell, where perhaps fifteen women huddle together on scattered blankets and threadbare pallets.

"It's me," she calls softly, and the response is immediate—several women rush to the bars, relief washing over their features.

"Trinity!" A young girl with matted blonde hair reaches through the bars, clutching at Trinity's hand. "We thought—when you didn't come back?—"

"I know, Mira." Trinity squeezes the girl's hand. "I'm alright."

Another guard approaches, his eyes narrowing at our presence. "You have business here?"

Before Trinity can respond, I step forward, towering over the lesser demon. "My business isn't your concern."

He shrinks back instantly, muttering apologies. "Of course, sir. Forgive the interruption."

"Open the cell," I command.

The guard fumbles with a ring of keys, hands shaking slightly as he unlocks the heavy door. Trinity slips inside immediately, and I remain at the threshold, watching as the women surround her, touching her arms and face as if confirming she's real.

"I need to collect my things," Trinity explains, breaking away from their embrace to move toward a small bundle tucked into the corner of the cell. Her movements are efficient, practiced, as she gathers what little she owns, which doesn't appear to be much.

"You're leaving?" The girl called Mira asks, voice breaking. "For good?"

Trinity pauses, her hands stilling on her meager possessions. For a moment, raw indecision flashes across her features. Her gaze sweeps over the assembled women—some barely more than children—and I see the weight of responsibility settle on her shoulders.

"I have to," she finally says, her voice soft but firm. "But you should be getting better arrangements soon."

A murmur runs through the group—disbelief, fear, perhaps a sliver of hope.

"With him?" An older woman glances at me, suspicion etched in the lines around her mouth.

Trinity nods, straightening her spine. "Yes. He's... different."

I almost smile at her hesitation. Different. Not good, not kind—just different. At least she's honest.

"But what about Drez'kor?" someone whispers. "He'll be furious when he discovers you're gone."

Trinity's eyes flash at the mention of the captain, her body tensing. I recall the scene in the garden—his hands on her waist, her carefully blank expression. Something possessive and dangerous stirs in my chest.

"Drez'kor won't be a problem," I interject, my voice carrying through the cramped cell. Every human eye turns to me, wary and uncertain. "And conditions here will improve. The human queen will see to that." Or I'll try to make sure she does.

Trinity nods as she looks at her companions, clasping Mira's hands in hers. "He's right. Things are already changing. You'll be safer now."

But I notice how her fingers tremble slightly, how her smile doesn't quite reach her eyes. She wants to believe what she's telling them, but years of cruelty and broken promises have taught her better.

"We need to go," I say quietly, aware that every moment we linger increases the risk of discovery. Not that I can't slaughter everyone to get her out, but it would complicate my future endeavors on the island. "Now."

Trinity nods, gathering her bundle to her chest. She embraces each woman quickly, whispering something in their ears. When she reaches Mira, the youngest of the group, she presses the small book into the girl's hands.

"Keep this safe for me," she murmurs, and the girl nods solemnly, clutching the book to her chest.

"Will we ever see you again?" Mira asks, tears tracking down her dirty cheeks.

Trinity hesitates, glancing up at me before answering. "I don't know," she admits. "But you'll be alright. You're stronger than you think."

The parting is quick after that. Trinity steps from the cell, her shoulders squared, chin high. But I catch the way her breath hitches, the dampness in her eyes that she blinks away before anyone can notice.

The guard locks the cell behind us, and I place my hand at Trinity's back again, guiding her away. She walks stiffly, not looking back though I can feel how desperately she wants to.

"You did what you could for them," I say quietly as we climb the stairs away from the dungeons.

Trinity's jaw tightens. "It wasn't enough."

"It was more than anyone else did."

She glances up at me, anger and grief warring in her expression. "That's a pretty low bar, demon."

We emerge from the dungeons without incident, no one stopping us or questioning why I'm escorting a human woman away from the premises. Trinity seems increasingly agitated by this, her steps quickening as we near the edge of Asmodeus's property.

"I can't believe no one's trying to stop us," she whispers, casting furtive glances over her shoulder. "It can't be this easy."

"It isn't easy," I correct her. "It's who I am. No one here wants to challenge me."

She studies me with those shrewd green eyes. "You must be very frightening."

"I am."

A small, humorless smile touches her lips. "And yet here I am, walking into the night with you. What does that make me?"

"Practical," I answer honestly. "And brave."

The journey to my estate on Aerasak is swift but silent. Trinity spends most of it staring out the window of the transport vessel, her fingers absently tracing patterns on the glass. The tension in her shoulders never quite leaves, even as we put Galmoleth far behind us.

When we finally land on the outskirts of Ikoth, her eyes widen at the perpetual crimson sky, the rich black soil, the strange metallic plants that glitter under the alien sun.

"Welcome to Aerasak," I say, guiding her down the ramp. "Different from what you're used to."

Trinity steps onto the dark soil, her gaze sweeping across the unfamiliar landscape. "It's called Ikoth, right? The demon homeland?"

"You've been paying attention." I'm oddly pleased by this. "This is the southwestern region, less populated than the cities. I prefer it that way."

As we approach my estate, I watch her reaction carefully.

The structure rises from the landscape like a natural formation —black stone and gleaming metal twined together in elegant, angular patterns.

No neighbors for miles, just dense forest with their strange, dark-leaved trees surrounding the property on three sides. A private oasis, far from prying eyes.

Trinity's expression gives little away, but her pulse quickens. "It's... secluded."

"That's the point." I lead her through the massive front doors, which swing open at my approach. "No one bothers me here."

Inside, the space opens up to high ceilings and wide windows that frame the crimson sky.

The furnishings are minimal but well-crafted—dark woods, metal accents, comfortable seating arranged around a central hearth.

Weapons hang on the walls, trophies from successful hunts and contracts.

Not warm by human standards, perhaps, but it's home.

"This is where I live when I'm not traveling for work." I gesture for her to explore freely. "And now it's where you'll stay until our arrangement is complete."

Trinity moves through the space cautiously, like she's entering a predator's den. Which, I suppose, she is. Her fingers trail along the back of a chair, eyes cataloging every detail. Always looking for escape routes, this one. Smart.

"It's larger than I expected," she admits. "And... nicer."

"What were you expecting? Chains on the walls? Torture devices?"

Her lips quirk up. "Something like that. Demons aren't exactly known for their hospitality."

"We appreciate comfort as much as anyone." I move past her to throw open another set of doors, revealing a long corridor. "Your quarters are this way."

I show her to a suite of rooms on the eastern side of the house, well-appointed with a large bed, bathing chamber, and private sitting area. The windows overlook a garden of strange, metallic-hued flowers that catch the light of Aerasak's sun.

"This is... mine?" Disbelief colors her voice as she moves into the space, touching the plush bedding with hesitant fingers.

"For as long as you're here," I confirm. "The rest of the house is yours to explore at your leisure, except my private chambers and the weapons room."

Trinity turns to me, arms folded across her chest. Her initial awe fades, replaced by that calculating look I'm beginning to recognize.

"Let's talk about this contract," she says firmly. "I need to know exactly what I'm agreeing to."

I lean against the doorframe, appreciating her directness.

"Simple enough. You'll bear my heir. Stay here during the pregnancy and until you've healed completely.

After that, you're free to go." She asked if she'd have rights, but she never said what she wanted.

If she would want to be a mother at all.

I can't imagine she'd want to continue sacrificing for others, but I won't take that choice from her.

"And the child?"

"Stays with me."

Her shoulders relax a fraction. "Good."

I study her reaction, intrigued. "Most would find that a difficult condition."

Trinity shakes her head, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. "I never wanted to be a mother. Even before..." She gestures vaguely, encompassing her captivity and everything that led her to this moment.

"Would you want any part in the child's life? Visitation?"

"No." Her answer is swift, unhesitating. "A clean break is better. For everyone."

I nod, oddly relieved by her certainty. "Then we part ways after. I got you off Galmoleth, and I'll set you up with a new life wherever you choose to go. Resources, housing, everything you need."

Trinity's expression shifts, a brief flash of something—hope, maybe—crossing her features before she schools them into neutrality again. "That simple?"

"That simple." I straighten from the doorframe. "You fulfill your end of the bargain, I fulfill mine. No complications."

She nods, a tight smile forming on her lips. "Sounds perfect. This should be easy for the both of us."

Easy. The word hangs between us, and I almost believe it. Almost.

But I have a feeling that nothing with her will be easy.