Caged By the Lich

7. Astrid

7

ASTRID

I wake with the same bitter taste in my mouth, the same heavy weight in my chest. Another day in my new cage. The sun hasn't even risen, but I'm already alert, my mind racing with possibilities.

My bare feet hit the cold stone floor as I begin my morning routine. Stretch, wash, dress. It's become mechanical, but I force myself to stay sharp. Every detail matters.

I press my ear against the door, listening for the telltale shuffle of guard rotation. Right on schedule. Two minutes later, heavy footsteps echo down the hall. That'll be Grug, the night watchman. His lumbering gait is unmistakable.

Breakfast arrives precisely at seven. The serving girl, Mira, offers a timid smile as she sets down the tray. I've been working on her, building a rapport. Today, I risk a whispered question.

"Are they still working on the east wing?"

Her eyes widen, but she shakes her head almost imperceptibly. Damn. I'd hoped the construction I'd overheard might be a potential weak point or at least a distraction I could use.

As I pick at my food, I run through the fortress layout in my mind. Three levels that I know of, possibly a basement. My room is on the second floor, east side. Two exits on this level, both heavily guarded. Windows are warded, and well — I learned that the hard way.

I move to the window, pretending to admire the view while I study the grounds below. The guard patterns are frustratingly consistent, but I've noticed a small gap in coverage near the southern wall around midday. It's not much, but it's something.

A knock at the door signals V's daily "check-in." I steel myself, plastering on a bored expression as he enters.

"Still here, I see," he drawls, those color-shifting eyes scanning the room.

I shrug, feigning indifference. "Where else would I be? Your hospitality is so... charming."

His lip curls, but I catch a flicker of something else in his gaze. Curiosity? Admiration? I file it away for later analysis.

As V launches into his usual interrogation, I parry each question with practiced ease. But I'm listening, always listening. Every word, every reaction is a potential piece of the puzzle.

When he finally leaves, I exhale slowly. I never understand both the relief and disappointment I feel every time he is gone. But I have no time to think it over as my door swings open and a guard stands, waiting for me. It's time for my chores.

I shuffle along the corridor, feather duster in hand, my movements slow and deliberate. The demons lounging in the adjacent room pay me no mind - I'm just another human servant, beneath their notice. Perfect.

As I inch closer to the doorway, their voices drift out, low and conspiratorial. My ears prick up at the mention of V's name.

"...heard he single-handedly wiped out the entire Krath clan," one demon whispers, his voice a mix of awe and fear.

"That's nothing," another chimes in. "Remember what he did to Lord Zaxos? Flayed him alive with magic for daring to challenge his authority."

I lean closer. I've heard rumors of V's brutality, but this...

"It's not just his power," a third voice adds. "It's his cunning. The way he manipulates alliances, always three steps ahead."

I risk a glance into the room. Three matrons huddle close, their expressions a mix of reverence… and lust. Are these women all his?

Anger heats in my blood, and I scoff at myself. Why do I care? Why does the emotion that is eating at me…feel a lot like jealousy?

"They say he made a deal with Xydra herself," the first demon continues. "Sacrificed his own brother for power."

My hand stills on the dusty vase. His own brother? The thought makes my stomach churn.

"But you have to admire his ruthlessness," the second woman muses, sounding much too enthralled. "You've heard the rumors of his family. And yet, he's become one of the most feared lords in the realm."

I force myself to keep dusting, my mind reeling. V's rise to power suddenly seems less like luck and more like a calculated, blood-soaked climb.

"And now he's got Ilreth's daughter," the third demon adds with a chuckle. "Talk about a power move."

"Poor little thing," the first matron agrees, cooing softly.

My cheeks burn and I force myself away. I'm not sure why, but I can't stand the idea of listening to them gossip about me. As if it hasn't happened my entire life.

As I make my way back down the hall, my thoughts are a jumbled mess. The V they described is a monster, capable of unspeakable cruelty. Yet... there's a part of me that can't help but be impressed by his cunning, his relentless drive.

And a larger part that I extremely turned on by that ruthlessness. I shouldn't be, I know. But my core clenches as I remember his hand around my throat, his dark eyes swirling.

I can practically feel just how powerful he must be in bed.

Not that I want it.

I'm exhausted by the time Kaz comes to collect me. My arms ache from scrubbing floors and dusting endless shelves.

"Astrid," he says as he approaches. "I've been sent to bring you with me."

Part of me wants to refuse, to collapse onto my bed and ignore whatever new torment V has planned. But curiosity wins out. I follow Kaz through the winding corridors, chin held high despite my disheveled appearance.

The dining room is opulent, all dark wood and gleaming silver. V lounges at the head of the table, looking infuriatingly relaxed in a crisp black shirt. His eyes flick over me, taking in my rumpled clothes and messy hair.

"Enjoying your new role as a maid?" he asks, lips curving into a smirk, but he gestures to the chair across from him, an invitation to sit.

I slide into the seat, refusing to rise to the bait. "Oh, immensely. Nothing quite like scrubbing demon grime to make a girl feel alive."

A servant places a plate in front of me – some kind of roasted meat I don't recognize. V watches as I take a cautious bite.

"It's not poisoned," he says dryly. "Though I'm sure you'd find a way to blame me if you choked on a bone."

I swallow, surprised by the rich flavor. "Careful, V. That almost sounded like concern."

His eyes narrow. "Merely protecting my investment. You're no good to me dead."

"And what exactly am I good for?" I counter, leaning forward. "Other than menial labor, of course."

V takes a sip of wine, considering me. "You tell me, little rebel. What skills does Ilreth's pet human possess?"

The insult stings, but I refuse to let it show. Instead, I smile sweetly. "Oh, you know. The usual. Etiquette, languages, a thorough understanding of demonic political structures and their inherent weaknesses."

His eyebrow quirks up. "Is that so?"

"Mhmm," I hum, cutting into my meat with deliberate precision. "For instance, I couldn't help but notice how Lord Malzahar's absence tonight, when he usually visits once a week on this day, speaks volumes about your tentative southern alliances." I raise my brow, keeping my tone light. "Where is your new friend, V?"

V's eyes flash, a mixture of surprise and... is that approval? "You're more observant than I gave you credit for."

"A common mistake," I shrug. "Most demons underestimate humans. It's made things... interesting over the years."

"Interesting how?" V leans forward, genuinely intrigued now.

I meet his gaze, allowing a hint of steel to enter my voice. "Let's just say I've learned to navigate treacherous waters since childhood. Your court is hardly the first to see me as prey."

V chuckles, a low sound that sends unwelcome heat pooling in my stomach. "And yet, here you are. Caught at last."

"For now," I counter, unable to keep the challenge from my tone.

His eyes darken, swirling with something dangerous. "You really think you can outmaneuver me, little rebel?"

I lean back, forcing nonchalance. "I think you'd be surprised at what I'm capable of."

That night, I toss and turn in the luxurious bed, my mind refusing to quiet. The silk sheets feel cool against my skin, but I can't shake the heat that lingers from dinner. V's words echo in my head, his deep voice replaying like a maddening loop.

"You're more observant than I gave you credit for."

I growl in frustration, punching my pillow. Why does that feel like a compliment? I shouldn't care what he thinks of me. He's my captor, my enemy. The man who tore me from my home and family.

And yet...

The way his eyes had flashed with interest when I challenged him, the curve of his lips as he smirked at my retorts. It was... exhilarating. For once, I felt like someone was actually seeing me, not just Ilreth's human daughter or a political pawn.

"Dammit," I mutter, sitting up and running a hand through my tangled hair. This is dangerous thinking. V is brilliant, yes, but he's also ruthless. I can't forget the stories I overheard, the casual cruelty he's capable of. Or that I am just that to him.

I'm a pawn.

But then I remember the intensity in his gaze as we verbally sparred, the way he leaned in, genuinely engaged in our conversation. It was so different from the dismissive treatment I usually receive from other demons. V actually listened.

And not once did he bring up my father.

I flop back onto the bed, groaning in frustration. This is insane. I need to focus on escaping, not... whatever this is. I can't let myself be drawn in by V's charisma, no matter how magnetic it might be.

But as I close my eyes, trying to force sleep, all I can see is the way V's shirt clung to his broad shoulders, the elegant line of his throat as he tipped back his wine glass. My body betrays me, a low throb of desire pulsing between my thighs.

"No," I whisper fiercely, clenching my fists. I will not give in to this. V is the enemy. My captor. I need to remember that, no matter how intriguing he might be.

I roll onto my side, staring at the moonlight filtering through the curtains. Tomorrow , I tell myself. Tomorrow I'll redouble my efforts to escape. I'll find a way out of this gilded cage, away from V and these confusing, traitorous feelings.

But as sleep finally claims me, I can't quite banish the memory of V's knowing smirk, or the warmth that blooms in my chest at the thought of matching wits with him again.