[ HFD Chapter 11 ]
When Harry descended into the basement the next morning, he was surprised to find Fiamette still snoring under her blanket. He sneaked closer, captivated by the peaceful look on her face, but despite his careful approach, she stirred, revealing her fangs in a languid yawn before stiffening. She backed against the wall and brought her knees up to her chest, her wrists still bound.
"Morning," he said cheerfully and proffered a bowl of fruit salad. "Breakfast?"
She glowered at him with blatant hostility.
"Suit yourself." He perched cross-legged on the floor and set the bowl in his lap. Picking up a fork, he speared a cube of mango and ate it with exaggerated gusto. "Mm. It's pretty good, you know. Sure you don't fancy a bite?"
Her stomach gurgled and she averted her gaze, her cheeks pinkening. Surmising that her pride wouldn't allow her to ask him for anything, he stabbed a strawberry and extended it to her. Her nostrils flared and she went almost cross-eyed as she beheld it.
"It's not poisoned. Could eat it myself, if you like." He drew the fork back a fraction.
Something akin to panic passed over her face, and she leaned to snatch the strawberry off the fork. She chewed and swallowed with a hum of pleasure. Harry grinned, then bit the inside of his cheek, trying not to show how pleased he was. The flavor of the fruit would mask that of the potion they were infused with.
Her eyes narrowed. "Wipe that smirk off your face! I simply decided to build up my strength so I can kill you later."
"Sure thing. Another one?" He picked out a piece of pear.
Not meeting his gaze, she murmured, "Yes."
Her reactions were adorable, as much as those of a bloodthirsty demoness could be. A grapefruit wedge made her wrinkle her nose, kiwi elicited a widening of her violet eyes, and after scarfing down a pineapple cube, she licked the juice off her plump lips with relish.
He asked idly, "Don't you have fruit in your plane?"
She considered him before deigning to answer. "Not like these. It is a harsh and unforgiving place where only the strong survive. We take pleasure in eating not for the taste, but for the strength that we gain from it."
"You seem to be enjoying the taste quite a lot, though."
She shrugged. "There's no shame in indulging in pleasure, as long as one doesn't grow weak and complacent."
He smirked. "You'd know all about growing complacent, wouldn't you?"
"It was sheer luck!" she growled. "A fluke of fate, bestowing you with the accursed blood of an extinct clan!"
"Perhaps. Doesn't change the fact that you underestimated me." Spearing another piece of fruit, he gave her a promising smile. "Eat. You'll need your strength for what's coming."
She vacillated, long enough that the hand he had extended began shaking, but ended up biting into the fruit with resignation. When she spoke next, the fury had gone out of her voice.
"What is it you're hoping to achieve, mortal? Your methods, as... unorthodox as they are"—she shifted on her knees—"will never break me. Sooner or later, you'll slip up, or the protections woven into this collar will dwindle, and I shall be free to take my revenge. Whether it takes months or years makes little difference to me."
He tilted his head. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because I don't see the point of your actions! Had our roles been reversed, I would have flayed you alive, gutted you, and strangled you with your own entrails!"
"How graphic," he murmured. "Sorry, please go on."
"Yet you... you do this!" She jutted her chin at the bowl in his hands. "So I ask again, what is your goal?"
"Oh, that's simple," he said casually. "I want you in the same position you put me into. I want you to become mine."
She gaped. "Are you listening to yourself? You can't make a soul pact under duress—the subject has to agree of their own free will!"
"Yet you tricked me into one, which means there are loopholes. And even if there aren't any..." He stood, giving her a cold look. "I'll enjoy searching for them. Seven years I lived in fear and constant preparation. I won't give up until I take from you at least that much."
She appeared about to speak, but a flick of his wand yanked the blanket off her, leaving her stark-naked. He spied a patch of trimmed red hair above her smooth mons before her tail snaked in and covered her crotch with its heart-shaped tip.
Squeezing her legs together, she fixed him with a glare, but he turned his back to her and waved his wand in a well-practiced pattern of the Levitation Charm. When a massive wooden horse rose from its corner and zoomed into the middle of the room, he heard a sharp intake of breath and allowed himself a satisfied smile she wouldn't see.
"I thought such barbaric measures were beyond you?" The unease in her tone seemed genuine.
Harry scrutinized the horse. It was made of four thick poles affixed at slight angles below a triangular wooden prism. The surface was darkened with age—no one alive knew when it had been used last—but the wood remained solid and uncracked. Magic had a way of preserving things long past their natural lifespan.
He ran his fingers along the topmost edge before spelling the dust off. It was smooth and slightly rounded—far from comfortable, but it shouldn't hurt too much.
Schooling his expression, he faced her. "Seeing how much you enjoyed my last attempt, I decided to spice things up a bit. Wingardium Leviosa!"
Fia squeaked indignantly as she floated past him and over the horse, lashing out with her legs and even her tail, but he stepped away, and her flailing turned out to be for naught.
"Insolent mortal, I'll carve your eyes out of your skull and feed them back to—"
He canceled the levitation, and she cried out as she plummeted the last inches that separated her from the wooden horse. Her knees slid down the smooth sides until her bare crotch collided with its blunted top.
Writhing, she sought him out with misty eyes. "I'll—I'll make you pay..."
"An amusing threat, given your current position."
He attached the chain hanging from the ceiling to the manacles behind her back, then turned the winch until she was forced to bend forward. Unable to brace with her palms, her weight rested largely on the junction of her thighs. He could see the muscles of her legs flex as she attempted to hold herself up against the horse's sides.
"So much for your moral superiority," she gasped out. "Even a goody-two-shoes like yourself wants to see his enemy suffer, no?"
"Oh, we've barely even started! I already know demons can take a lot of punishment, so appealing to my benevolence won't work." He smirked. "Do feel free to beg for mercy, though."
She laughed breathlessly. "Showing your true colors at last... Do as you like. You'll only lay bare your depravity while I stand defiant."
"As you wish."
He took his time rummaging in a cabinet because he knew the delay would stoke her anxiety. Surfacing with a riding crop, he bent it experimentally before letting go. It straightened with a snap, making Fia turn her head sharply.
Savoring her fearful expression, he languidly circled her naked form. He stopped by the winch and raised her hands a fraction higher, then paused to admire the view. Her supple breasts were hanging down, nipples hardened, and her hair fell in a fiery curtain. Her round ass was exposed and ripe for punishment, her tail flicking nervously.
She craned her neck to observe him as he stepped behind her. When he raised the crop and swiped down, she winced even though it hadn't landed anywhere near her body. Smirking, he swung it around to get a feel for it before abruptly laying a light swat across her bottom. Her hips jerked, her tail stiffened, and a groan left her lips.
"Quite a reaction," he mocked, stepping around to her other side. "Could it be that you're not so tough after all?"
"Fuck you—eek!"
Harry smirked as he swatted her other butt cheek. "Tut-tut, that's no way for you to address your master."
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