Adam did not respond.
He simply stared at her, his gaze boring into her soul. He could feel the suppressed power within her, the high-tier strength that made her so dangerous.
He remembered the perfect, uncanny control with which she had hidden her killing intent. How she struck with no hesitation, aiming to kill immediately. The faint magical residue from the place where she struck seemed to suddenly give phantom pain; it was close, too close!
Killing her was the smartest decision.
It was the only logical choice.
Saphira knew this, too.
Internally, her hopes withered. She had obliterated any chance of trust with her own actions. There was no path forward where he would ever turn his back on her.
The only reason his grip hadn't already tightened to the point of snapping her neck was the war raging within him: the sin of Lust. Craving to possess and break this beautiful, defiant creature, and the sin of Greed, unwilling to waste such a potent resource. Even the sin of Wrath desired to make her pay, slowly, eternally, for daring to harm her.
'He's going to kill me.' Saphira thought.
The thought was not a whisper but a deafening roar in the silence of her mind.
Her own body, already wracked with pain, began to quiver. Fear and rage helplessly tore at her consciousness at the thought of her imminent end.
She saw the entirety of her short life in that fleeting instant.
In that moment of sheer, undiluted terror, a bitter regret bloomed in her heart. A regret so profound it eclipsed her pride.
She should have fought to the death from the very beginning, the moment he first grabbed her.
She should have died protecting her virginity, no, her pride with her own blood, clawing, and screaming, rather than begging for a life that had led only to this chilling, yet unavoidable, judgment.
The ground beneath her, the very air, seemed to be devoid of the heat hell had to offer. The all encompassing demonic mana pulled away, leaving her stranded.
She was cold and abandoned.
She was not his queen, she was just the next piece of meat in the slaughterhouse of hell, and the butcher's blade was at her throat.
Saphira's beautiful, molten brass eyes stared up at Adam, their usual fiery intelligence dulled.
Yet, even in their emptiness, they gleamed with a final defiance
'I have been paraded, beaten, and stripped. I have begged. Let there be one last shred of dignity with a quick end... so much for being a royal of hell, a devil...' She thought bitterly.
Suddenly, the demonic mana that looked like the maws of a shark about to close in on her, dispersed.
The conflict cleared, replaced by a dark, sparking amusement.
Adam's eyes opened fully, and a sinister smirk twisted his lips.
He had found his answer.
"Pa!"
Without looking away from Saphira, his hand shot out in a blur, delivering a sharp, stinging smack against Lyra's bare, perfectly sculpted ass.
The silver-haired deviless yelped in startled pain, indignation, and traces of excitement; her murderous glare torn from Saphira broken body.
"Get dressed," Adam commanded, his voice low, allowing no argument, "Unless you wish to greet our guests in your natural state."
Lyra's, though confused, felt a chill as she heard his words. Moving quickly to drape her fur cloak over herself.
The implication was clear; her nudity was a privilege for him alone, not for the prying eyes of others.
As a confused Lyra allowed Blair and Agri to hurriedly drape her seductive form in her custom fur coat, Adam's burning gaze returned to Saphira, pinning her in place.
He needed to confirm the final boundary.
"Tell me, little viper," He began, his tone deceptively calm, "Are you willing to be a pet, a bitch, a maid who scrubs floors and licks boots? A mindless cock-sleeve whose only purpose is to serve me and my queen? To never defy, only serve?"
Lyra, now partially clothed, darted to his side, her eyes wide with horrified understanding, opened her mouth to protest.
'He couldn't! He was going to keep this treacherous, albeit beautiful, midget!'
But Adam merely raised a hand; a simple, absolute gesture that silenced her before a sound could escape.
His focus remained entirely on the red deviless before him.
"No."
Saphira heard his words, each one a fresh whip against her soul.
To accept would be to spit on her heritage, to willingly become a mockery of everything a devil should be.
It was a fate worse than death, a perpetual, living humiliation.
Virginity?
Revenge?
In the face of power, of greater benefits, things could be negotiated!
Devil's could bend and change, all to live, to seek greater realms. They could cut off loses as easily as breathing, even if it's their own limbs.
But if living meant abandoning their pride, forgoing the sins that they embodied, then living had no point!
With an effort that sent fresh waves of pain through her bruised body, she pulled her worn, cut, and bruised face up to look at him.
The beauty was still there, etched in the elegant lines of her jaw and the proud set of her horns, but it was a beauty sullen by defeat.
"Just kill me," She whispered, the words a raw, honest expulsion of her last shred of pride.
It was not a plea, but a final statement of principle.
She would not debase herself further, she had done enough.
Adam's smirk widened.
"That's my good little girl," He purred, a perverse approval in his voice, "I don't want a pathetic royal devil who would whore her dignity for a few more breaths. I want the one who would rather die."
He leaned in so close she could feel the heat of his breath, his lips nearly brushing her ear as he whispered, "And I will make you beg for this cock. You will scream for it, and you will forget you ever wanted to die."
A violent, involuntary shiver ran through Saphira's body.
The words, and the dark promise behind them, made her recall the unwanted, overwhelming orgasms that had been ripped from her during her violation.
It was a purely physiological betrayal her mind had been unable to stop.
The thought of that sensation, monstrous size of him... would there be only pleasure then?
A pleasure so intense it would truly annihilate her will?
The concept was as terrifying as it was darkly alluring.
His trait as a devil of lust had already left his mark on her; literally and metaphorically.
Adam noticed the flicker of primal fear in her stoic, defiant eyes, and beneath it, the faintest, most reluctant spark of something else: lust and curiosity.
It was all he needed.
His smiled triumphantly as he stood.
In one fluid motion, he heaved her battered form up from the ground. He ignored her gasp of pain, bundling her close against his chest, her crimson skin burning his own. He wrapped his large fur cloak around them both, enveloping her, hiding her from view.
"Time," He announced to the room, his voice steadfast and resounding, "To go see our guest!"
With Saphira concealed against him, a testament to his victory and a vessel for his future depravities, he turned to face the outside world.