Caged By the Lich

10. Olvaar

10

OLVAAR

I sit at the head of the long obsidian table, my advisors droning on about troop movements and supply lines. Their words wash over me, failing to capture my usual razor-sharp focus. My mind wanders, unbidden, to a pair of defiant green-gold eyes.

"V, what are your thoughts on the southern border?"

I blink, realizing I've missed half the conversation. "Repeat the question," I growl, irritation flaring at my own distraction.

Vex stares at me for a beat too long. "We were discussing the allocation of resources to fortify our southern holdings."

I nod, buying time as I scan the map spread before us. My gaze falls on a small outpost, and suddenly I hear Astrid's voice in my head, clear as day:

That's a weak point. You're spreading your forces too thin there.

I frown, examining the area more closely. She's right. Damn her.

"Double the garrison at Blackthorn Pass," I order, ignoring the surprised looks from my advisors. "It's vulnerable."

As they scramble to adjust their plans, I find myself wondering what else Astrid might notice. Her strategic mind continues to impress me, much as I loathe to admit it.

The meeting drones on, but my thoughts keep drifting. I imagine Astrid standing at my side, her clever remarks cutting through the sycophantic agreement of my advisors. The corner of my mouth twitches, almost a smile, before I catch myself.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

I slam my fist on the table, silencing the room. "Enough. We'll reconvene tomorrow. I expect better prepared proposals."

As they file out, I remain seated, scowling at the maps. This fascination with the human girl is becoming a liability. I need to end it.

And yet... the thought of sending her away leaves an uncomfortable tightness in my chest.

I scan the crowded ballroom, my eyes narrowing as I take in the gaudy displays of wealth and power. These pathetic excuses for demon lords preen and posture, unaware of how quickly I could crush them all. The air is thick with the stench of fear and sickly-sweet perfumes.

My gaze lands on Astrid, standing alone near a marble column. I brought her to prove a point, before I heard Ilreth wouldn't even be attending. I wanted people to see me with his pet, to show I can do whatever I want.

Instead, I'm lost in staring at her, wanting another taste of her sweet skin. She's a vision in emerald silk, her raven hair cascading down her back. I feel a flicker of... something in my chest. Annoyance, surely.

Lord Kravos, that arrogant ass, stumbles towards her. Even from across the room, I can tell he is wasted. Not an uncommon occurrence for him anyway. But his eyes are hungry as they roam over Astrid's form.

Before I realize what I'm doing, I'm moving. My feet carry me swiftly across the polished floor, cutting a path through the startled crowd.

Kravos has Astrid cornered, one meaty hand on the wall beside her head. "Come now, little human," he slurs. "Don't you want to experience a real demon?"

I reach them just as Astrid opens her mouth to retort. My hand closes around Kravos's throat, lifting him off his feet. The room falls silent.

"Touch her again," I snarl, "and I'll rip out your spine and feed it to you."

Kravos's eyes bulge. He claws weakly at my grip, his feet dangling uselessly. I squeeze tighter, feeling the satisfying crunch of cartilage beneath my fingers.

"V," Astrid's voice is soft behind me. "You're making a scene."

I blink, suddenly aware of the dozens of eyes fixed on us. What the fuck am I doing? Since when do I care about what might happen to some human girl?

I release Kravos. He crumples to the ground, gasping and retching.

"Get out of my sight," I growl. He scrambles away, leaving a trail of blood and spittle on the pristine floor.

I turn to Astrid, expecting gratitude. Instead, I'm met with a raised eyebrow and a look of amused confusion.

"I had it under control," she says coolly.

"Of course you did," I snap, irritation flaring. "Next time I'll let him maul you, then."

But there will be no next time. I think I just made my point, and we both know it.

The whispers start immediately. I can practically see the rumors taking shape. The great and terrible V, defender of human maidens. Pathetic.

I stalk away, snatching a goblet of wine from a passing servant. As I down it in one gulp, I catch sight of my reflection in a gilded mirror. For a moment, I barely recognize myself.

What is this infuriating girl doing to me?

For the rest of the night, I stand by the wall, glaring at anyone who gets too close and letting my presence send lesser demons scurrying away. The ball drags on interminably, each moment a test of my rapidly fraying patience.

Astrid remains by my side, and I don't know what to make of it. For right now, I choose to ignore it.

When I've finally had enough, I escort Astrid out of the mansion and into a carriage. It is a quiet ride back, and I have to force my eyes to stay off of her, she looks that good. I won't be liable for my actions if I don't.

Still, I find myself walking her back to her chambers. The walk is silent, tension crackling between us like barely contained lightning. At her door, I pause, the words tumbling out before I can stop them.

"You looked... lovely tonight."

She freezes, clearly caught off guard by my unexpected words. I really want to say more, like how I'd love to see the dress on the floor and her splayed on my bed and my cock buried in her for days.

Those words at least stay in.

Astrid's eyes meet mine, a hint of vulnerability replacing her usual defiance. My breath catches as her gaze slowly travels down my body, appreciation clear in her expression. It is not helping my growing erection.

"You clean up pretty well yourself," she murmurs, her voice low and husky.

The air between us shifts, charged with an electric tension I can't explain. All night, we've been able to find an almost companionable silence, but I know I've been stealing glances of her, swallowing back my arousal because I couldn't break.

Has she been doing the same?

Astrid takes one step closer to me, her scent enveloping me, and I swear I lose all control. I find myself leaning in, drawn by some inexplicable force. Her lips part slightly, and I catch the faintest scent of wine on her breath. My heart pounds, a foreign sensation I barely recognize.

Our faces are inches apart now. I can see the flecks of gold in her green eyes, count each individual eyelash. My hand moves of its own accord, reaching to cup her cheek.

Suddenly, reality crashes back. What the fuck am I doing?

I jerk away as if burned, stumbling back a step. Confusion and something that looks dangerously like hurt flashes across Astrid's face before she schools her features into careful neutrality.

"I... This isn't..." I struggle to form words, furious at my own weakness. "Goodnight."

Without waiting for a response, I turn on my heel and stride away, my footsteps echoing in the empty corridor. My mind reels, trying to make sense of what just transpired.

I'm not some lovesick fool, toying with a pretty captive. I'm V, the demon lord who strikes terror into the hearts of my enemies.

So why does walking away from her feel like tearing out a piece of myself?

Once alone, I pace, running my hands through my hair in frustration. What the fuck is wrong with me? She's a human, for fuck's sake. A pawn. Nothing more.

I try to rationalize my actions. Protecting her was purely strategic. She's valuable leverage against Ilreth. That's all.

But the excuses ring hollow, even in my own mind. Especially when I have no explanation for the almost kiss that I never should have allowed.

The memory of my mouth on her neck comes back, though. The first night I had her alone. And fuck, I want to do that again, to do more. My restraint is thinning by the day, and I don't know how much longer I can hold out.

It's not even like I care about fucking. Not really if she wants it. She's a little brat, a rebel that needs to be taught to obey.

But I fear that once I get one taste of her, I'll never fucking stop.

Growling in frustration, I snatch a crystal decanter from my desk and hurl it against the wall. The shattering glass does nothing to quiet the turmoil in my head.

I've built my empire on blood and fear. I am the most respected demon lord on this continent. I don't get... attached. I don't care.

And yet.

The memory of Astrid's defiant gaze, the curve of her smile, the fire in her words – it all haunts me. I find myself wanting to see more of that fire, to bask in its warmth.

Disgusted with my own weakness, I make a decision. I'll increase her privileges within the fortress. Let her roam more freely, access the libraries, maybe even the gardens. It's a calculated move, I tell myself.

Keep her compliant, make her let her guard down. I'll be less tempted to go see her, and she'll be less starved for someone to talk to and might come to hate me again. I need to do something to put distance between us, and distracting her with something that isn't me is the best option I have.

But deep down, in a place I refuse to acknowledge, I know the truth. I simply want to see her at ease here. In my domain. With me.