3. Uriel

3

URIEL

T he zarryn's hooves strike sparks against the mountain path, their dual tails whipping in the chill wind as they pull my carriage through the mist-wreathed peaks. My magic keeps them tied to me so I'm able to direct them from inside the cabin of my carriage

Across me and scowling, my captive is trying to curl as far away from me as possible. She hasn't lost her charm, yet, and I find myself amused as I watch her. The human girl shifts against her bonds, those fascinating golden-green eyes darting to each rocky outcropping and steep drop we pass. Looking for escape, no doubt.

Her honey-blonde curls have come loose from their careful arrangement, giving her a wild look that only enhances her beauty. Not that I'd admit such thoughts about a human.

"If you're planning to drag me across demon territories, the least you could do is tell me your name." Her chin lifts in defiance, though her voice wavers.

I smile, knowing how it twists my features into something less angelic. "You may call me Master."

She scoffs, the sound sharp in the confined space. "I'd rather not call you anything at all."

"Yet here you are, asking my name." I guide the zarryn around a hairpin turn, their silver coats gleaming with sweat. The temperamental beasts snort and toss their heads, sensing my passenger's unease. "Uriel."

"What?"

"My name. It's Uriel." I flex my wings, letting them fill the space. A reminder of what I am, of the power difference between us.

Her shoulders straighten despite her bound wrists. "Athena."

"I didn't ask."

"And I didn't ask to be kidnapped, yet here we are." She meets my gaze without flinching. "So you might as well know who you've taken."

The zarryn's hooves clatter against stone as we descend into deeper shadow. My smile grows genuine at her spirit. Most humans would be cowering by now, yet this one challenges me at every turn. Perhaps this journey won't be as tedious as I'd feared.

When the zarryn grow tired and I need a break, I find us a place to stop. It'll give me a chance to restock on supplies, too, since it will take me over a week to get back home.

Outside the cabin, I lean against a tree trunk, wings spread casually while I pretend to study a map. The zarryn are grazing and I've already refilled waterskins and plucked some berries and roots to keep us from getting too low between towns.

The leather-bound scroll catches the breeze, but my attention remains fixed on my captive. She thinks I don't notice her slow, deliberate movements - the way her fingers work at something behind her back.

The broken pottery shard makes a faint scraping sound against the leather restraint. Clever girl. She must have palmed it during our initial struggle, when she hurled that vase at my head. I'd admired her aim then too.

Her teeth worry at her lower lip as she works, those golden-green eyes fixed ahead with studied nonchalance. A light sheen of sweat dampens her honey-blonde curls despite the cool mountain air. The restraints allow enough slack for her to sit on a fallen log, but not enough to bolt - or so she thinks.

I fold the map with precise movements, savoring the mounting tension. Her sawing grows more desperate as I approach, the shard of pottery clicking against the leather.

"Having trouble?" I crouch before her, catching her wrist before she can hide the evidence.

She freezes, pulse racing beneath my fingers. But there's no fear in those eyes - only frustration and that fascinating defiance.

A laugh escapes me, dark and appreciative. "Such clever hands." I trace the red mark where the restraint has chafed her skin, savoring how she jerks from my touch. I'm not sure why I'm so drawn to her reactions but I can't stop drinking them in. "I wondered how long it would take you to try something like this."

"You knew?" Her voice holds more outrage than fear.

"I've been watching you since we stopped." I pluck the pottery shard from her grip, turning it to catch the light. "Not bad technique, but you'll need something sharper than this to cut through demon-crafted leather."

A flush creeps up her neck, but she doesn't look away. "I'll remember that for next time."

"I'm counting on it." I tighten her restraints, lingering over the task. "It will make things so much more interesting." Straightening, I look at the beasts that are grazing just away from the carriage. "It's time we get back to our journey."

I harness the zarryn back up and climb inside, guiding them back onto the winding path, their hooves striking a steady rhythm against the packed earth. The morning mist has burned away, leaving us exposed under the harsh sun. Perfect. Now she can see exactly how far we are from civilization.

"The market should be bustling this time of year." I keep my voice casual, as if discussing the weather. "Demon lords travel from across the territories, searching for rare treasures."

Athena's chains rattle as she shifts position. "I'm not interested in your market predictions."

"No?" I turn just enough to catch her expression, savoring the way her jaw clenches. "You should be. After all, you'll be the star attraction."

"I'm not merchandise."

"Everything has a price." I stretch my wings, letting them catch the sunlight. The gray feathers shimmer with an almost metallic sheen. "And you, little human, are quite the find. Unmarked. Untouched." I pause, letting the words sink in. "Pure."

Her golden-green eyes flash. "I'm not unmarked."

The thought sours in my stomach and I snarl as I lean forward, letting the anger show. "Do you know what they'd pay for someone like you? The bidding would start in the thousands. Rare weapons, ancient artifacts, entire estates - they'd offer it all." My smile grows cruel. "But it's not just the price that makes it entertaining. It's watching them circle, like predators scenting blood. Each one convinced they deserve the prize."

"I'm not a prize." The words come through gritted teeth.

"No?" I reach back, catching her chin between my fingers. Her skin burns hot against my touch. "Then what are you?"

She jerks away, those honey-blonde curls whipping across her face. "Someone who's going to make you regret this."

A laugh escapes me, dark and genuine. "Now that's what makes you valuable. That fire. That defiance." I turn back to the road, but keep my voice pitched just loud enough to carry. "They'll enjoy breaking it out of you, piece by piece."

She just looks away from me, not bothering to respond. Smart girl. She's learning to hide her reactions, even as her pulse races fast enough for me to hear it.

Once night falls, I have no choice but to stop us. I don't know the mountainous region well enough to keep going. And then time, I drag my little captive out with me.

The campfire casts dancing shadows across Athena's face as she stares into the flames. The leather bound around her wrists glints in the firelight, but it's not the binds that hold my attention - it's the way she carries herself. Back straight, chin lifted, those golden-green eyes reflecting the fire's glow like molten metal. Even bound and captive, she refuses to cower.

I stretch out my wings, letting them catch the night breeze. "Hungry?"

"No." The word comes sharp and quick, but her stomach betrays her with a quiet growl.

"Stubborn thing." I slice a piece of bread, watching her track the movement. "Your pride won't fill your belly."

Her lips press into a thin line. "My pride is all I have left."

"For now." I hold out the bread, close enough to smell but just beyond her reach. "But pride bows to necessity eventually."

She lifts those fascinating eyes to mine. "Does it? You seem to have plenty to spare."

A laugh escapes me, genuine this time. Most humans would be broken by now, reduced to begging or tears. But this one? She throws my words back at me like weapons.

"Come here." I gesture with the bread.

"No."

"Then starve." I take a deliberate bite, watching emotion flash across her features - anger, hunger, calculation. She's weighing her options, that clever mind working behind those eyes.

Finally, she moves forward, and I can tell she hates that she is having to give in. Each movement is measured, controlled, as if she's the one choosing to approach rather than being compelled.

I catch her chin before she can grab the bread, forcing her to meet my gaze. This close, I can see flecks of gold in those green eyes, like sunlight through forest leaves. Her pulse races under my fingers, but she doesn't flinch.

"Good girl."

She jerks away, snatching the bread. "I'm not your pet."

"No." I lean back, studying how the firelight plays across her honey-blonde curls. "You're something far more interesting."

Her fingers tighten on the bread, but she doesn't eat. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I'm beginning to understand just how much you are worth." I flex my wings, watching her track the movement. "It's not just your beauty or heritage. It's this - this fire in you. This refusal to break."

"You won't break me."

I smile, letting her see the predator beneath the angelic features. "I like the challenge."