Page 137 of Hell Bound

I had never had to answer a command of hers, or anyone’s, save for Asmodeus. He alone controlled the curse.

My heart pounded against my ribs as Sameera lifted the collar, unbuckling it, and smiled down at me. “Good dog.”

I struggled to jerk backwards, to fight, to bite her—to do fuckinganythingbut let her put it on me.

Her hands were cool as she slipped it around my neck, neatly sliding the buckle into place. The barbs tore at my skin, small, stinging wounds that healed nearly instantly—only to be sliced open again at the slightest breath.

Sameera wrapped the leash around her wrist, her hair brushing my face. Her hand touched my cheek, forcing me to look up at her, and her sharp nails sliced into me.

Blood trickled down my cheek.

“I’ve missed you, pet,” she crooned. “We’re going to have so much fun together.”

Then she lifted her hand and licked my blood from her fingers, smiling the whole time.

Chapter33

Lilith

It wasn’t until the third day in the dungeon that delirium truly kicked in.

Day one was uneventful. No one was around to bother me, and no one came to visit, even to provide sustenance.

Thankfully, telling off Asmodeus allowed me to feast on satisfaction.

At least until the second day.

My stomach very rudely reminded me that satisfaction lacked the calories I needed to function. The incessant growling was made even louder by the silence in the surrounding cells.

Worried I might talk to my fellow inmates, Asmodeus had ordered his high value prisoners moved to a new location and killed the rest. He’d also been sweet enough to leave the bodies.

Thank fuck I’d gone nose blind in the first few hours of my sentence.

The hunger would have been more manageable if it wasn’t combined with thirst. Somewhere in this hellhole, there was dripping water.

I had to give it to Asmodeus: it was exquisite fucking torture.

By the time the third day rolled around, the weakness had begun to set in. My once gorgeous dress had snagged on a particularly sharp stone, tearing a gaping hole right around my knee.

It was the single stroke of luck I’d had down in the dungeon. I tore the excess fabric free, and it served as a semi-soft place to rest my head or a blanket at night when the draft grew unbearable.

I didn’t just sit and stew in my anger, though. That was a waste of valuable time, and with every tick of the clock, a growing dread told me it was running out.

Cataloging every single thing I could remember since arriving at the Infernal Court, I searched for a weakness. Anything that I could exploit to escape. Habits of the servants, shifts of the guards, schedule for the wolves going on patrol.

I traced a finger through the accumulated dust on the stone floor, mapping out what I knew of the palace’s entrances and passageways.

For hours on end, I tested new routes I could follow to slip away before anyone realized I was gone.

And I came up empty.

I may have explored the palace, but it was nowhere near extensive enough. Every option was impeded by a guard who was always stationed there, or having to cross through a populated area.

Even if I managed to get out of this dungeon before I starved to death, I was as trapped as ever.

I couldn’t admit it to myself, but there had never been a real chance that I would get out of this place on my own. I needed help, a team to strategize with.

Or just a partner to watch my back.

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