Saphira's ears perked at the question.
She hated Adam, and now she hated Lyra even more so, but that didn't mean that she would rather die than submit.
Adam was worthy.
Still, she knew that even she would find it impossible to let someone who tried to kill her live. In fact, it would be foolish to do so!
Now, the same strength that she used to try and assassinate him, was the very thing that she thought that could keep her alive. Only by trying to display her strength, show that she could be useful, could she try to stay alive.
'But even then, its still foolish…'
He was stronger than her, but not unbelievably so. Not to the point where he could walk around without a care. Not strong enough to completely brand her into obedience
Would he keep her at his side at every moment of her life, suppressing her demonic core with his demonic mana, further delaying his own growth?
If he demands that she sign a powerful contract of slavery, would she even consider it?
No, at that point, her life would no longer have any autonomy.
No matter how she tried to fathom it, she saw no out in this situation. She saw her incoming demise with great reluctance.
Then, another thought arose.
Her mother.
The anonymous deviless who had endured this same violation and had chosen to flee, to abandon the evidence of her shame.
A flicker of that same desperate urge to escape, to simply vanish, sparked within her.
The question was, would this devil allow it?
Looking up, Adam's silent gaze felt like a mountain on her back. His cold, emotionless eyes seemed to see her as nothing short of dirt at the moment.
'If I die, I die with my head held high!'
She ignored the screaming protests of her body, and she pushed against the ground, muscles trembling violently, struggling to sit back up, to meet her fate on her feet, or at least on her knees, rather than prostrate in the dirt.
A shadow lurked over her.
Lyra, her silver hair like a waterfall of moonlight, moved elegantly.
She didn't strike Saphira down again, instead her hand snapped out, tangling viciously in Saphira's messy black hair. With a sharp yank, she hauled the struggling high-tier devil upright, holding her solely by the grip on her scalp.
"Persistent little midget, isn't she?" Lyra purred, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she addressed Adam, her mercury eyes glinting with amusement, "She simply doesn't know when to give up."
Saphira, suspended by her hair, her body in pain, her molten brass eyes, dulled by pain but burning with pride, fixed onto Lyra.
"If it weren't for him," She muttered, her voice low, but laced with pure contempt, "A weak, elf slut like you wouldn't dare to even look in my direction, much less touch me."
Lyra's beautiful face did not contort in rage.
Instead, she smiled beautifully, breathtaking, yet chillingly serene.
"Oh, is that so?" She mocked.
Her free hand rose, her fingers-tipped with nails that were suddenly sharp, gleaming claws, gently traced the line of Saphira's jaw. Her actions like that of an owner lovingly grooming their cat.
"But you see," She continued, her tone one of patient explanation, as if to an ignorant child, "Adam's strength is my strength."
As she spoke her final word, her sharp nail pressed down.
With a quick, precise motion, she dragged the tip down Saphira's crimson cheek, slicing a clean, bleeding line from her cheekbone to her jaw. It was not a deep wound, but it was a reminder of her place, of the current circumstances that she had reluctantly gotten herself into.
Saphira eyes narrowed as a momentary flare of demonic power, completely unrelated to that which is usually fed from her demonic core, ignited her blazing golden eyes.
For a fraction of a second, Lyra felt the difference in their realms, of her being outclassed in strength.
Instinctively, she moved to end this threat before it could end her.
But she could moved, before the blood could even drip down Saphira's beautiful face, a larger, more powerful hand closed around Lyra's wrist.
Adam's grip was firm and unyielding as he pulled her hand away from Saphira's face; his expression unreadable.
Lyra's facial expression faltered.
Her silver eyes blazed with sudden fury, the molten mercury within them seeming to boil as she whipped her head towards Adam.
"You're stopping me?"
Her voice was a sharp, more emotional than when confronting Saphira.
"Tell me you are not actually considering keeping this treacherous bitch after what she just tried to do! After what she just called me!"
Saphira's eyes flickered with hope, but she dared not expect anything. But her rage and disgust towards the duo was buried deep; all for the chance to live.
Adam did not answer her.
He couldn't.
His own mind was a battlefield, a brutal clash between cold, pragmatic intellect, and the roaring, possessive desires of his sin.
Saphira was beautiful, but first and foremost a high-tier deviless that had just tried to turn on him.
Keeping her alive was insanity.
His gaze, burning and flickering with conflicted embers, shifted from the defeated form on the ground to the silver-haired queen at his side.
"Why?" He asked, his voice a low distraction for her and for himself, "Are you jealous, Lyra?"
He was subconsciously buying more time for himself, to answer the question, but unfortunate Lyra was not going to give it to her.
There was no hesitation.
No shyness, no humiliation.
Her mercury-silver gaze was like polished steel, unwavering and absolute.
"Yes," She stated, the word clearer than ice, "I am. I want her dead. She is a threat. She is a snake you think of keeping at OUR bed. She does not deserve the honor of your touch, only your wrath!"
Her words were not a plea, but a demand, a queen asserting her will and demanding the elimination of a rival for the good of her king, and for the calming of her own heart.
Adam was stunned, a rare occurrence that momentarily cut through the fog of his lust and fury.
He was used to manipulation, to seduction, to calculated words.
This raw, unfiltered jealousy, this direct call for death from his chosen queen, was a variable he hadn't fully anticipated. Now, the decision was no longer just about risk and reward.
It was about keeping the woman already in his grasp happy.
It was about appeasing the woman who held his favor, whose loyalty and body were already his. He had to weigh the intoxicating allure of a new, beautiful deviless against the stability and devotion of his current queen.
"Plus… you already had you fun with her," Lyra leaned in close to his body, both naked and hot, "Any more and I think you might not want me anymore~"
Adam breathed hard, his eyes drifting to her seductive body, as his hand instinctively caught her full and plump ass. Subtly feeling the her soft mounds, then roaming his hands towards the spot where her sleek, black tail extended from.
It swayed gently, as if a docile pet in their masters embrace.
'If I had to choose between her and Saphira, would it even be a question?
As he wrestled with this internal conflict, Saphira, though she remained outwardly expressionless, felt her heart clench.
Lyra's words were a death sentence.
Suddenly, Adam's hand shot out, his fingers closing around Saphira's neck in an iron grip.
He picked her up from the ground, pulling her away from Lyra, a subtle hint of his ownership and his inner turmoil.
"Ahckk!" Saphira gasped, as his grip tightened, cutting off her air.
Her vision blurred, but her eyes, those beautiful orange-gold irises, remained locked on his face.
With a weak, defiant flick of her tongue, she licked the blood, her own blood, from her swollen lips.
Her expression was one of utter exhaustion, of resignation, but deep within her eyes, a single, stubborn ember of defiance still smoldered, refusing to be extinguished even now.
"I… can submit," She said, the words strained and breathless.