A Deal With The Devil

Sasha

The walk to Cassian’s office is long, and it takes everything in me to memorize everything I see on the way. Ariel knocks on the door, then steps back.

“You can go in.”

“He hasn’t—”

“It’s soundproof, so you won’t hear him,” she remarks. My lips part to say something. Soundproof? That’s fancy, but from what I have seen, the king seems like he is really rich.

She pushes the door for me, and it opens. I walk into the office, and it’s so huge. Almost the size of my father’s entire living room.

The king seemed to be deep in thought, standing by the window. I take my time admiring the way he looks. It’s as if he is lost in his world.

“Your Grace?” I call, and he turns around to face me. He frowns, holding his glass tightly. He is drinking whiskey. My heart races. I know what happens when my father calls me to his office and he is drinking.

“Didn’t have time to freshen up?” he asks me, his eyes trailing over my body.

“I did. Do I not smell okay?”

“NO. You are still in your old dress,” he says to me, and I swallow hard. I don’t know if I should tell him the truth or just keep quiet.

“I thought you might want to see me in a nicer dress,” I retort, waiting for his reaction. He just stares at me and then gestures for me towards the couch.

“Sit”

I make my way to the couch and sit on the edge of it, waiting for him to speak to me.

“I never chose you,” He begins, sitting down in front of me. Of course, he didn’t. No one ever chooses me, so I am used to feeling unwanted. This is nothing new to me.

“All I wanted was to sign a contract with your father. But he offered you as part of it.” He explained. It was the first time someone had ever bothered to explain to me what was happening in my life. 

“I don’t know why he did it or why he insists, but I will take it. Hence why I have some rules for you,” he says, and I wait.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-Four.”

He growls. I am sure he doesn’t believe me, but that’s what happens when you are starved for the sin of being a girl instead of a boy.

“My council insists I take a bride and give them an heir. I don’t want to, but it seems to protect someone and her happiness. I will have to do it.” He says.

 My heart sinks, and an ache I have never felt before pulls in my chest. He is doing all this because of a woman.

“So, you want me to have a child with you?” I ask, and he nods.

“I don’t know if you can take me, seeing you are wolfless.” He sits back in his chair. He must love the woman.

“I can. I am stronger than I look,” I say to him, and he raises a brow. “Do you even understand what that means?”

“I know. You want me to have your child? Your heir,” I add.

Of course, I know what he means.

“If you manage to have a child. Or children. I will let you go.”

“Really?” I ask, my eyes widening

“Yes, give me two children, then you can get your freedom.”

“What if it’s just girls?” I ask him, I would hate for my children to go through what I have gone through.

“It doesn’t matter. Girl or boy, both can be my heirs,” he declares, his voice echoing through the room. I nod, my heart pounding. He rises from his chair.

 “You can leave. I will send over someone to assist you with anything you need,” he says, turning his back on me. Is this what he promised the women he killed? Did they refuse? Wasn’t one of them pregnant with his child? Questions swirl in my mind as I head towards the exit.

“Sasha?” His voice slices through the air, freezing me in my tracks. I turned slowly to face him.

He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving mine. I could hear my heartbeat, loud and erratic. “No one betrays me and lives to tell the tale. Remember that,” he says, his voice a dangerously calm whisper that sends chills down my spine. His eyes bore into mine, unblinking, as if daring me to defy him. The room feels colder, the air thick with tension. I can hear my heartbeat loud and erratic as I struggle to maintain my composure.

Was this the end for me? My mind races, searching for a way out, but all I can see is his cold, unyielding gaze. The faint scent of his cologne mixes with the metallic tang of fear in the air. My palms are sweaty, and my throat feels dry.

“You’re dismissed,” he adds, his words hanging in the air like a death sentence.