Binara held her breath, completely stumped. Of all the horrifying scenarios she imagined in the enemy's lair, this was a development that she had never anticipated. The demon was so close that her eyes fluttered over his features—from the low eyebrows and curving lashes all the way down to the jaw, where a sliver of a scar was visible. There was no ectoplasm misting from his form now—he was disconcertingly solid.

She waited for a sadistic smile or his hand to dig into her until it crushed her very bones. Instead, the Black Prince slackened his grip. His eyes watched on—pools of liquid silver that held hers with laser focus. It was almost as if he was wary.

Suddenly aware that she was free, Binara backed away, crawling rapidly to put some distance between them. She eyed him, chest heaving, while pain pulsated from every inch of her—from her bruised back to her burned hand. What the heck is the demon beastie playing at?

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said again, as still as a statue.

Binara surveyed his crouched form against the backdrop of a disaster zone that was his throne room. Entropy glared at her—broken statues, empty alcoves, uprooted plants and the glittering wreck of a chandelier on the pedestal. A charred vine disengaged from a trellis and fell to the floor with a thump that carried in the stillness.

Something in her snapped. This was the monster responsible for everything that had happened. This was some sick game—whatever he had going on with his victims. Fire surged in her veins. However, she couldn't switch back to attack mode. Her entire body protested. Other than the broken arm, her feet were bleeding as well as her cheek. Fresh bruises clamored for her attention.

The Black Prince said something in his ancient language and moved, his hand reaching for something at his belt.

"What did you do to all those girls, you psycho?" she screamed, making him pause. "Are you going to destroy Hevana and kill everyone?"

He took a moment to reply, though she couldn't decide if it was due to the language barrier or her screaming. "No."

"No?" She blasted him with a death glare. "No what?"

"I haven't attacked anyone in Hevana." His words were yet again old Sinhalese, reminding her of literary works from the past. "Nor do I intend to."

"You haunt girls! You—"

"I've only been haunting you, and Raya has helped me do that."

As if on cue, the big cat slunk into view from behind a toppled statue and rubbed against the demon. He stroked the animal, murmuring words too quiet to hear.

Binara's eyes widened, and she backed away another inch. "Liar! What I don't get is why. What game are you playing?"

The Black Prince just watched her. Then he opened a pouch at his belt, producing a vial and what looked like puffy cotton. The next second, he approached her, making her flinch. No, no, get away from me, you freak! She almost swiped at him before she realized that her claw ring was gone. Her eyes shut, and muscles tensed. Her whole being was as taut as a bow pulled to its limits.

A wet softness dabbed at her skin. Her cheek stung, and the strong scent of a spirit filled her nose. She blinked rapidly, too stunned to react.

"This will work for now," the Black Prince said, too close for comfort.

She sat stock still, brain whirring. Through everything raging within, one fact sank in. There was no way out of this mess, and aggression would serve no purpose other than get herself locked up or even chained. If she played along, a chance to escape would most likely present itself. Reason didn't stem the fear and confusion, however. Her heart pounded faster, and she swallowed against her dry throat.

He produced more cotton and got to work on her feet, which stung a lot more. She recoiled at his touch, even though he was surprisingly gentle. She refused to let him lower her guard. Does he play doctor with all his victims? Maybe he likes to experiment on them too—see who goes insane sooner. He cleaned the cuts and started to bandage her feet. His fingers worked with practiced ease as if he had first aid training. It was all so absurd that she might as well have been dreaming.

After a prolonged moment, Binara realized that she was staring fixedly at a point on the demon's cloak, where it tapered up from the neck into a high collar. It was so near that she could see the weave itself. It was better than staring at his face, which was too infuriatingly peaceful and perfect for a monster. The breeze from the garden dissipated the strong odor of the spirit. In its place, she breathed in subtle notes of metal and ambroxide, which she now associated with him.

"So why are you and your pet haunting me?" Binara asked, trying to steady her voice, and injected a good dose of venom into her tone. "Is stalking and possession what you demons do for fun? Is that what this is all about?"

He finished his careful ministrations. "I was protecting you."

Binara was sure she hadn't heard right. "What?"

"How about we talk more over dinner?" He straightened up and gestured to the leopard. "Raya can carry you back to the room. You should get some rest."

When the animal moved forward, Binara scooted back on reflex. Her mind jumped to new possibilities. The demon prince was obviously a delusional psycho, and if she cooperated, she could definitely plot her next escape—this time more discreet.

The Black Prince observed her reaction. "Raya won't hurt you, my lady."

For an instant, the form of address rendered her speechless, and then she snapped, "I can walk on my own."

When Binara staggered to a standing position, pain rocketed up from her feet. She assessed the floor for a clear path to the side door, but it was impossible. Glass glittered amid a sea of debris. On top of that, a wave of dizziness made the world tip.

Arms circled around her—the way they did on the fateful night at Mai Mara Cemetery. A second later, the Black Prince scooped her up.

Binara opened her mouth to scream, and her hand clawed at the cloak, but her groggy mind refused to focus. Everything hurt, and she knew she was defeated.

As he started walking, she battled down a riot of emotion. She was cocooned in a demonic embrace, pressed to a chest that wasn't human. Binara could sense the power and spectral essence within him. Through the haze in her head, she tuned in to a rhythmic beat that didn't emanate from her. She marveled at the fact that this otherworldly monster had a heart, pumping out warmth that was strangely soothing.

Binara barely registered the hallways they passed. Before long, she was back in the room—her own gilded prison. He lowered her onto the bed.

When she felt his eyes on her, she played dead.

He finally turned to go. "I don't think I had a chance to introduce myself."

Introduce yourself? She frowned. Oh, yeah. The beastie probably has a name.

"I'm Prince Diyan," he said in his quiet voice.

When Binara made no response, he uttered a few words she couldn't make out and left the room. The last thing she heard was a key turning in the lock.

After a troubled doze, Binara woke up to the sound of wind humming outside. It was the same room—the ancient furnishing, white curtains and the ornate screen on one side. Even the window displayed the same night sky—a featureless black except for the moon. For a moment, she wondered if bombing the Black Prince was just a fanciful dream.

The rest of the incident flowed in—the demon treating her injuries and the terrifying moment he carried her. The memory evoked the sound of his heartbeat, loud and insistent, as it burrowed right into her. Binara shuddered and rubbed her eyes as if she could erase everything that had happened and wake up in her own bed in Hevana.

It took a few minutes of meditation to get the panic under control. Aware of her parched throat and shriveled stomach, she looked around and noticed the pitcher of water on the bedside table. She reached out her trembling hand and paused.

The burning in her palm had gone down, though it had started to blister. An ointment glistened on her skin, and her nose picked up an odor reminiscent of herbs. Did he come back to do this while I was asleep? The idea was so creepy that a tremor rippled through her. She recalled the change of clothes again and squirmed. No way. He couldn't have—besides, he can't be cleaning and cooking in this place as well.

Now that she thought about it, everything was in order—right down to the polished décor in the hallways and the well-tended garden outside. The Black Prince probably had servants, even though she hadn't seen anyone.

Binara carefully tipped the pitcher into the goblet that stood next to it. The water was deliciously cool, and each mouthful helped clear her head. Her wandering eyes stalled on the wall lamps that emitted a ghostly light, and curiosity stirred within. Before she could give it more thought, a movement registered in her peripheral vision. She snapped her head towards the screen.

"Who's there?" she called, straightening up.

Her sixth sense strained to detect any presence, but in an environment where ectoplasmic matter was everywhere, it was hard to single out what she wanted. Her brain had yet to learn to process the influx of stimuli.

As if in answer, something whizzed from behind the screen—straight into her line of sight.

Binara's first thought was a bird. After all, it was small, shiny and had wings that were nothing but a motion blur. Then her eyes almost fell out of their sockets.

The being flew up to the bed and hovered before her. It was a humanoid with the plumage and grace of a swan. Slender avian legs dangled down from a dress that resembled a flower.

There was no doubt what it was. Her mind sailed back to what Siri said in Gongama. This delicate thing was a female kinnara—or in other words, a kinnari.

While Binara sat frozen on the bed, three more kinnaris appeared from behind the screen, though their outfits weren't as elaborate as that of the first. It took her a moment to realize that the lead kinnari was speaking—a series of high-pitched vocalizations that completely eluded her.

Finally, the strange being hovered a bit closer, almost shyly, and gestured at herself, uttering a word again and again, "Manora."

Binara untwisted her tongue and croaked, "Manora? Y-your name?"

She nodded.

All four kinnaris landed on the bed, and Binara could do nothing but watch. Manora pointed at her hand, and it took a few seconds for comprehension to dawn.

"My hand is fine," Binara murmured. "Thanks."

After more gestures and monosyllables, Binara gleaned that they were the ones who had changed her clothes. A hundred questions swirled in her head, but there was no way to get herself understood. The little beings were frisky, and they kept miming at her, seemingly asking her to walk to the screen that obscured one side of the room.

Binara got up—slow and hesitant. Her feet ached, despite the bandages. The kinnaris flew around her like supernatural ladies-in-waiting, and their musical voices filled her ears. This whole situation seemed more a dream than reality, and she pinched herself just in case.

She soon understood what they wanted her to do. Beyond the screen was a bathing area that momentarily rooted her to the spot. A crystal clear pool sparkled under the glow of wall lamps, and at the water's edge, rocks and potted plants gave it a natural ambience. There were fixtures of stone and wood that resembled what was in her own bathroom. Binara could only wonder at the engineering that made this possible on the top of a massive rock in the sky.

An hour later, she sat at the dressing table, staring at herself. Manora's idea of female clothing wasn't to her taste, so Binara had insisted on black fabric, which she had adjusted and draped around herself with the kinnaris' assistance. It was essentially an osari dress, with a hemline that reached her knees, even though she was in no state to attempt another escape. Her broken arm was now secured with a sling, and strappy flats encased her feet.

If Binara understood correctly, the demon prince expected her at the dinner table—a prospect that sent shivers scuttling to her very extremities. Diyan. That's his name. Her mind toyed with the sound of his name, which was ridiculously tame for a fearsome demon. He obviously wanted her patched up for the time being, so this was an opportunity to extract information.

The idea of having dinner with the Black Prince was so unreal that everything else that happened paled in comparison. She imagined a table laden with unspeakable horrors to satiate his bloodthirsty appetite. Perspiration broke out on her brow, and she sucked in one breath after another, though the icy mass inside didn't budge. She shook her head and focused her attention on the kinnaris who were primping her up. She couldn't help wondering what power the demon exerted over them. Maybe they've resigned themselves to being prisoners.

Manora brushed Binara's hair one last time while her assistant applied color onto her lips. The whole experience reinforced the idea that this was a bizarre dream. Binara's first instinct was to wipe the red off her lips, but on second thought, she asked for more. The fiery hue lent her face a ferocious look that appealed to her.

Finally, it was time.

The kinnaris escorted her along the hallways and up a winding staircase before coming to a halt at a set of double doors. Binara's stomach churned as she braced herself for blood and body parts piled on a table. The instant the kinnaris threw open the doors, she strode in, her face shaped into a look that could kill.

A nanosecond later, Binara gasped and stopped dead in her tracks.