Free Demon's Captive by Stephanie Snow Page B

him the message wasn't coming through.
    * * * * *
          Charity examined the new clothes Melmanon had brought for her that morning. After leaving them with no explanation save, "Put them on," she had been bewildered, but delighted. The dress was beautiful. Unlike the deep red leather of her pants and top, or the honey-brown color of her cape and boots, it was made of cloth. Silky and impossibly fine, it was green, like rolling grass. It fit tightly through the bodice, then flared at her hips and pooled in soft waves around her feet.
      Instead of her boots, soft flats of green leather barely covered her toes. Over this, she had a new cloak of fur-lined leather in a deep, forest green color with fur so white, it nearly blinded her.
      In the mirror of the lavatory, Charity brushed her hair carefully, styling the loose curls to twist about her shoulders. The collar and cuffs were not particularly attractive with the dress, but she pushed the thought away, determined to be happy with the gifts.
      Her brows knit as she considered his recent behavior. Though still savagely dominating in bed, he had not hurt her since that day. They still coupled fiercely, but she felt only the minor discomfort of overused muscles when he was done with her.
      Also, he kissed her. That in itself was perhaps not so strange, but it was done so carefully, so well, as if he truly cared for her.
      Grimacing slightly at her foolish thoughts, Charity reminded herself that if he treated her well, it would not last. It would be stupid to become complacent. She must continue to look for opportunities to escape.
    * * * * *
           So many people! Charity's suspicions were correct. Melmanon had come for her earlier, pausing only to change his own clothes to ones as equally fine as her own. He brought her to a large hall she had never seen before, full of people in fancy clothes and uniforms. There was obviously to be some sort of ceremony. From what she could tell, it involved her master.
      There was a lot of talking and milling around. He took her hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm, rather than dragging her by the arm. Several of the officers she had seen before many times. Ones she didn't know looked strangely at her. She wondered if something was wrong with her appearance.
      It wasn't until after the ceremony where her master and another officer exchanged some kind of shield that she became worried. The officer gave an official-looking document to Melmanon, who signed it. The unknown officer pointed at her. She clutched Melmanon's arm and tried not to panic. He turned to her then took her hands in his.
      It took a moment to realize he was taking the cuffs from her wrists, and the collar from her neck. He set them aside and reached for a set of copper bands. One was slipped over each of her wrists. With a snick, they became one, until she couldn't see a seam at all. There was clapping and cheering, and they headed for the door.
      Charity was still staring at the copper at her wrists when they got into a transport and took off. Melmanon was silent in the seat beside her. She gathered the courage to ask, "Master? What are these for?" Her arms raised only slightly to indicate the rings.
      "You're not a torture slave anymore, Charity." His voice was both quiet and strangely subdued. He met her eyes. "I've bonded you. You are my wife."
      Charity was stunned. Wife? But…
      "Charity." Her name was a caress.
      His massive hands wrapped around her own. "I…care about you. I want to be with you." She stared at him in amazement as he continued. "That day, when you saw your own people, I was so jealous. I wanted you to be happy to see me, to be filled with joy for me."
      She gaped, her mouth slightly open as she listened.
      "I know. How could you be happy to be a slave? I knew, after I beat you, it was because I wanted you