— Now you belong to me. You’ll become my trophy and will please me. Behave properly—otherwise your life will turn into torment. — A calm, almost matter-of-fact tone made the girl freeze.
— What is torment? — It was all she managed to force out, hoarse, like a snake’s hiss.
Roland immediately understood: in Yanebyria, where other gods are honored, they don’t know of hell or heaven.
— It doesn’t matter. You still won’t understand it. Disobey me—and you’ll be punished. And believe me, your tender, well-kept skin won’t withstand my whip.
He slid the back of his hand along her neck and shoulder, at the same time pushing aside the thin fabric of her dress. Her left breast was exposed. The girl didn’t flinch, but the air itself rang with tension. The demon didn’t take his gaze off her green eyes—those very eyes that had captured him from the very first moment.
— Take her away. Lock her in the women’s quarters. And at night bring her to me.