Sacrifice by Cindy Pon

you admire most in me are human . You think so little of mortals, say how controlled they are by their emotions, how short sighted and meaningless their lives are, yet you are drawn to me for those reasons. Mortals may not live as long as the gods, but they feel deeply. They care .”
    Stone’s smile was faint but unmistakable. “Perhaps you are right. You are observant.”
    “I’ve had to be all my life.” She drew a shaky breath, aware how quickly her heart was thumping. “I will never do that again, Stone. You can kill me if you have to, but I refuse to be a murderer.” Stone could take her life at any moment, but she would not let fear stay her words any longer. He had wanted a prisoner—a plaything to keep him company. Instead, he would have one who expressed her opinions.
    Stone’s dark eyebrows lifted for an instant. “I would never hurt you, Skybright. I did not agree to this pact to deliberately cause you pain. It is important that you learn about your demonic half—about the world beyond the mortal realm. If you wish not to kill bad men, I will not force you to do so again.”
    She stared at him, shocked. He had said something similar immediately after kidnapping her. But now, she almost believed him.
    “Let us leave this place.” He paused and answered her question before she asked it, “He will be all right. He will suffer a headache and will never follow beautiful women down dark alleys again.”
    He reached for her hand first, then created another portal for them to step through. “I have been summoned.”
    Skybright wondered who could summon Stone’s presence but stepped through the rent before she could ask. She was only too glad to leave this damp, claustrophobic place and the unconscious man behind.
     
     

     
     
    Zhen Ni
     
    Zhen Ni’s bridegroom, Master Bei, was a large man.
    Head bowed, she had been sneaking glances through the red haze of her silk veil for what felt like an eternity. But she could gauge nothing except that he towered over her (and she was tall for a woman), and that his feet appeared extraordinarily small—almost misshapen—for a man his size. Rose had wrapped the breast binder around Zhen Ni tightly before she had dressed her in her bridal clothes, a ritual that would be repeated each morning after her wedding. Zhen Ni couldn’t seem to draw a full breath, and feeling faint, she resisted the urge to rip the heavy, oppressive layers off and run home to Yuan manor. She took a step back when Master Bei raised her veil, so she finally had a clear view of him.
    He smiled, a closed-mouthed smile that was awkward and strange, as if it was something he had never done before. Her groom was not a handsome man. His features were coarse, too blunt: his broad nose was crooked at the bridge, his large eyes set too far apart and protruding, the eyebrows thick and unkempt. He had two large lumps on either side of his high forehead, as if he had run into the corner of a pillar, twice. Had he, she wondered?
    Dear goddess, what would their children look like?
    And what, Zhen Ni couldn’t help thinking, was in store for her on her wedding night?
    As it was, after the enthusiastic and drunken crowds had sung their lewd songs, recited their couplets, and shared their bawdy innuendos at the end of the banquet, Master Bei, her new husband, had left her alone in their grand marriage bed without speaking a word. She lay with the coverlet clutched to her chest, still clothed, as it was his right to undress her on their wedding night. Her hairpins dug into her scalp, and her jade earrings felt too heavy in her lobes.
    Two lotus-shaped lanterns burned on either side of the bed, emitting a soft glow in the giant bedchamber. The marriage bed was draped in gold and red silks, casting the room in warm tones. She knew the effect was meant to be romantic, but it was all wasted on her. She felt no stirrings of love or desire—only anxiety overlaying a gnawing fear. She felt completely alone in the