Sins of the Succubus

13. Neela

13

NEELA

I stride into the bar, my head held high and a newfound confidence coursing through my veins. The familiar stench of stale ale and sweat assaults my senses, but today, it doesn't make me recoil. I'm different now. Stronger.

My husband, his face twisted in an ugly mask of rage, storms towards me like a thundercloud. "Where the fuck have you been?" he snarls, his meaty hand clamping down on my arm with bruising force.

I yank it away, ignoring the sharp pain, and meet his gaze with a cold, unflinching stare. "Fuck off," I spit, venom dripping from every syllable as I brush past him. The scent of his cheap cologne makes my stomach turn.

His jaw drops, eyes widening in disbelief. He's clearly not used to this level of defiance from me. "What did you just say to me?" he splutters, his voice a mix of shock and building fury.

I ignore him completely, striding purposefully towards the bar. My hands shake slightly as I reach for a bottle, the glass cool against my palm as I pour myself a generous drink. I down it in one gulp, relishing the burn as the liquor scorches its way down my throat.

It steadies my nerves, fueling the fire of rebellion in my gut. No more cowering, no more submitting. I've had enough of his abuse, enough of this miserable life. As the alcohol warms my insides, I feel my resolve harden. Things are going to change, starting right now.

A group of dark elves saunters in, their arrogant gazes sweeping the room like they own the place. I steel myself, pushing down the familiar twinge of fear, and approach their table with newfound confidence. Chin up, shoulders back, I'm not cowering anymore.

"What can I get for you gentlemen?" I ask, my tone dripping with sarcasm. The words feel foreign on my tongue, but exhilarating.

One of them looks me up and down, his eyes lingering in places that make my skin crawl. A smirk plays on his lips, and I fight the urge to slap it off his smug face. "Well, aren't you a feisty little human? Watch that tone, sweetheart. You might get yourself in trouble."

I lean in close, close enough to smell the sour stench of ale on his breath. My eyes narrow, and I feel a surge of power coursing through me. "Trouble? Honey, I am trouble."

The words come out in a low purr, and I'm surprised by how much I mean them. I straighten up, tossing my hair over my shoulder with a flourish.

"Now, are you going to order, or should I find customers who actually have coin to spend?"

The dark elf's eyes widen, a mix of shock and anger flashing across his face. His pointed ears twitch, and I can see his companions shifting uneasily in their seats. "You insolent little bitch," he snarls, fists clenching on the table. "Do you have any idea who we are?"

I feel my heart racing, but I don't back down. This new boldness is intoxicating, and I'm not about to let these bastards intimidate me. Not anymore.

I laugh, the sound sharp and humorless, echoing through the dingy bar. "Do you have any idea how little I care?" I retort, my gaze sweeping over them dismissively. The newfound power coursing through my veins emboldens me, making their threats seem hollow and pathetic.

Another elf leans forward, his angular face twisted with malice. His voice is low and threatening, dripping with venom. "You should be careful with your words, considering your... position here." His eyes rake over me, a reminder of the countless times I've been objectified in this hellhole.

But I'm done cowering. I meet his gaze unflinchingly, my own eyes flashing with defiance. "And you should be careful what you say to me," I hiss back, my voice steady and cold. "Your opinions mean less than nothing now." The words taste sweet on my tongue, a delicious rebellion against years of subjugation.

The tension at the table is palpable, crackling like electricity in the stale air. But I stand my ground, a smirk playing on my lips. Let them try something. I'm not the same helpless girl they're used to pushing around. My fingers tingle with an unfamiliar energy, and I wonder what would happen if I unleashed it.

I feel my heart skip a beat as the dark elf's words hang in the air, his face a mask of shock and indignation. "That's not very respectable," he sputters, clearly unused to being spoken to this way by someone he considers beneath him.

The phrase I've been waiting for, but where's Dremlor? My eyes dart around the bar, searching for any sign of him, but he's nowhere to be seen. The pit in my stomach grows deeper with each passing second. I can feel the weight of the elves' stares, heavy and predatory, making my skin crawl.

"What's the matter, sweetheart? Cat got your tongue?" The dark elf sneers, leaning back in his chair. His eyes rake over me, and I fight the urge to shrink away.

I force a smile, trying to maintain my composure. My heart pounds in my chest, but I won't let them see my fear. "Just wondering if you're all talk or if you actually plan on ordering something," I retort, surprised by the steadiness in my voice.

Another elf chimes in, his voice dripping with disdain. "Maybe we should order you instead. That husband of yours doesn't seem to mind sharing." His words hit me like a slap, reminding me of my husband's callous disregard for my wellbeing.

My fingers curl into fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms. Where the fuck is Dremlor? I think, panic starting to set in. Did I miss my chance? The familiar feeling of helplessness threatens to overwhelm me, but I push it down, clinging to the newfound strength I've discovered within myself.

"I'm not on the menu," I snap, my voice sharper than intended. The words come out with a force that surprises even me, and for a moment, I see uncertainty flicker in their eyes.

The first elf stands, towering over me. His bulk casts a shadow, and the stench of ale on his breath makes me want to gag. "Everything's for sale in this shithole, darling. Including you." His words are a grim reminder of the reality I've lived with for far too long.

"Back off," I warn, but my voice trembles slightly. I hate the weakness in my tone, but I can't help it. Years of abuse and degradation have left their mark, and old habits die hard.

"Or what?" He reaches out, his fingers brushing my arm. The touch sends a jolt of revulsion through me, and I feel something stir deep inside – a power I don't yet understand, but one that's begging to be unleashed.

Just as the situation grows tense, a chill sweeps through the bar. The dark elves freeze, their eyes widening in terror. I feel a presence materialize beside me, powerful and familiar. Dremlor stands there in his true form, his eyes blazing with otherworldly fire.

"Dremlor," I breathe, relief washing over me. "I wasn't sure if you heard?—"

He cuts me off with a gentle touch on my arm. "I always hear you, Neela. You never leave my sight."

The dark elves scramble back, nearly falling over themselves in their haste to retreat. Dremlor's lips curl into a predatory smile.

"You seem concerned, gentlemen," he says, his voice low and menacing. "Perhaps you'd like to rephrase your offer to the lady?"

I can't help but smirk at their fear. "What's wrong? Cat got your tongues?"

Dremlor chuckles, the sound sending shivers down my spine. It's a deep, resonant laugh that seems to vibrate through the air itself, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

"I believe they've lost their appetite for trouble, my dear," he says, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Perhaps they've finally learned not to play with fire."

I turn to him, my voice dropping to a whisper. My heart's still racing from the confrontation, and I realize that I haven't quite shaken the fear that's been my constant companion for so long. "I was worried you might not have heard them say the phrase. That you wouldn't come. I... I don't know what I would've done if..."

His eyes soften as he looks at me, and for a moment, I see something in them that almost looks like tenderness. It's strange, seeing such an emotion in the eyes of a demon.

"Neela," he says, his voice gentler than I've ever heard it, "I made you a promise. I'm always listening, always watching. Nothing in this world or any other will harm you while I draw breath."

"Even when you're not here?" I ask, still uncertain. It seems too good to be true, this safety he's offering. After years of abuse and neglect, the idea of someone actually caring about my wellbeing is almost foreign.

He nods, a wry smile playing on his lips. "Especially when I'm not here. Did you think I'd leave you vulnerable? My power extends far beyond what you can see, Neela. I have eyes and ears everywhere."

I feel a warmth spread through my chest at his words, a feeling so unfamiliar it almost hurts. Someone... is watching over me. Demon or not, Dremlor has shown me more kindness in these few moments than I've known in years.

His gaze sweeps the bar, and the remaining patrons quickly avert their eyes. "Now," he says, turning back to me, "shall we deal with these miscreants?"