5. Chapter

I froze in horror as I realized my legs had started moving toward the stairs on their own. I was halfway up before I felt the pull between us begin to weaken. His command still pulsed faintly in my mind, whispering for me to obey, but the farther I got from him, the looser its grip became. By the time I reached the top of the stairs, I could almost breathe freely again. Dizzy and trembling, I turned back, bracing myself against the banister, and looked down.

The demon sat on the floor, his back against the column, his fingers digging into his knees until they turned white. His head hung low, shaking slightly, a quiet curse slipping through his lips.

Then, with one graceful motion, he stood. His movements blurred—too fast for my eyes to follow—as he raked his hands through his hair, still facing away from me. His posture radiated tension, his steps sharp and precise as he left the living room and strode toward the kitchen sink. When no water came from the faucet, he cursed again under his breath. Then, without hurry but full of purpose, he turned and started up the stairs, his eyes locking onto me from the landing below.

I bolted. My heart pounded as I sprinted into my parents’ bedroom, slamming the door behind me, trying desperately to buy myself even a few seconds. But the faint rustle of wings shattered any illusion of safety. I had no chance of escape.

I scrambled out the window and onto the roof. The cold air bit into my skin as I gauged the distance to the ground, my legs coiling, ready to jump. My foot braced against the gutter, thighs tensing—when the wooden window frame behind me creaked and splintered.

I turned sharply, my breath catching. The angel filled the entire window frame, his wings unfurled, his eyes blazing with disapproval. His hands gripped the edges of the window so tightly the wood groaned in protest.

Our gazes locked.

Panicking, I dropped my eyes to his chest, terrified that meeting his stare again might summon the same trance. His shirt hung open in tatters, exposing the perfect, sculpted planes of his torso. Heat flared up my neck and into my cheeks; I forced my gaze lower—down to his boots. At least that was one part of him that didn’t stir unwanted desire.

“Don’t jump,” he said in a calm, almost gentle tone. “There’s no point. I’d catch you before your feet even touched the ground.”

His voice hardened. “How did you break the enchantment?”

“You ran out of strength, demon. I’m not your chosen one after all,” I lied smoothly, keeping my voice steady. My tone was convincing enough, but my body betrayed me—I still stared at his boots, avoiding his eyes. Slowly, carefully, I inched closer to the roof’s edge, weighing my odds.

“That’s not how it works,” he said, tilting his head slightly, his voice more thoughtful now. “I wouldn’t have been able to influence you a second time if you weren’t… mine.” His tone softened, almost tender. “From this moment, you are my chosen one. And I am your master. I cannot harm you—you are far too important to the survival of my heirs.”

“You can’t hurt me,” I spat, my voice trembling with fury, “but you can still rape me.” My legs tensed against the edge of the roof, ready to jump, even if it killed me.

He gave a low, mocking chuckle. “Oh, come now… I wouldn’t want the mother of my children to be someone who can’t even look me in the eye.”

“I can look you in the eye,” I snapped, forcing my gaze upward, fixing it on the spot between his brows. “But I won’t be your breeding mare.”

“Thank the heavens…” he began, but his words cut off as I jumped.

“Get back up here!”

My legs shook as I climbed back through the window, afraid of slipping off the roof’s edge.

“I’ve done what you asked,” I gasped, the words spilling out of me like an automatic reflex. The moment I spoke, the lingering enchantment snapped, and I collapsed to the floor. My hands clawed at the carpet as I fought to steady myself.

“As I said,” he murmured, stepping closer, his voice calm but threaded with threat, “my goal is to keep you alive until you carry my offspring to term. I won’t harm you. But I can make you do anything I wish—humiliate you, take you to bed, make you beg. Choose wisely. Make conception easy, and the sooner our fates will part.”

“You can force me to sleep with you,” I said, meeting his eyes, rage burning behind mine, “but that’s still rape. And I’ll fight you until my last breath.”

He crouched in front of me, his dark grin widening. “Funny,” he said softly, “because last time, it looked like you enjoyed that kind of—” he paused deliberately “—rape. When you were moving on my cock.”

I spat in his face.

He wiped the spit slowly from his cheek, his black eyes locking onto mine again. That familiar spiced scent filled the air, sinking into me like smoke.

“Well then…” he murmured, straightening and walking toward the bed. The air around him thickened with tension, with that maddening aroma that clouded my mind once more.

“Now,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed across from me, his gaze sharp and commanding, “please—arouse yourself for me.”