“What is it with you divine types?” Korithax mutters under his breath. “Maybe the Divine Six should recruit you and make it a solid seven. You’d fit right in with the rest of the cryptic assholes.”
I shoot him a look, my palms damp again. “I apologise for my husband,” I say sweetly through clenched teeth. “Clearly, he needs a nap.”
I watch as his face turns into a devilish grin, clearly unbothered by the way he’s behaving. I scowl at his reaction, only making his grin grow wider.
“What?” He murmurs. “I just love hearing you call me husband. Say it again later, when I’m nine inches deep inside you.”
My eyes go wide as my mouth goes bone dry. I whip my head toward Elyistria, praying to any higher being listening that she didn’t hear that.
She tuts softly. Yup. She definitely heard it. I resist the urge to groan and instead imagine stabbing Korithax with the nearest ceremonial spear. Would a wooden stake work? No, that’s for vampires. Holy water? Ezra already tried that. Didn’t work.
Despite myself, I smile. Because I know what Ezra and Talia risked for me by summoning him that night. A pang shoots through my chest. It feels like forever since I saw them. I need to visit when this is over. But the thought of watching them age, knowing I’ll live on for centuries? Another pang. I shove the grief aside like I always do.Not now, Daisy. Later.
“Well,” Elyistria says gently, “since your husband seems eager to get you to bed, I’ll have my guards show you to your room. Please, enjoy your stay, and feel free to explore the realm if you’d like. It is yours to walk freely.”
We both nod our thanks and turn to follow the guard, the urge to stab my husband stronger than ever. Although, he’d probably like it.
“Oh, and Daisy?”
I pause and look back. “Yes?”
“I would like to speak with you before you leave tomorrow. Alone.” She eyes Korithax. “Breakfast, perhaps?”
I nod. “Sounds perfect. I’ll see you then. Thank you so much for your hospitality.”
With that, we’re escorted from the throne room, my heart pounding and my head spinning like a kaleidoscope of questions.
We’re guidedthrough endless hallways and flights of gleaming white stone stairs. My thighs are burning by the time we reach the room we’ve been given, located in one of the northern towers of the palace.
A guard opens the door for us, one arm outstretched in polite invitation. “Here are your rooms. I hope you find them to your liking. If there is anything you?—”
“Yeah, got it. Thanks,” Korithax cuts him off sharply, stepping inside and slamming the door behind us.
I spin on him with a glare. “Korithax, what on earth has gotten into you? You’re being more of an ass than usual.”
He just stares at me, a grin spreading across his face—dark and gleaming, bordering on sadistic. His obsidian eyes flicker as he watches me. Then I smell it. Burning fabric. I look down and shriek—flames are crawling up my gown, devouring the silken material.
I slap at them, panicking as I shriek, “Korithax! What the hell!”
“They won’t hurt you,” he says calmly, clearly amused with his shit eating grin.
“What?” I pant, my body stalling as the fire eats through the fabric… but leaves my skin entirely untouched. Unharmed.
“It’s my Hellfire. I told you, it won’t harm you.”
I stop struggling entirely, standing still as the flames finish their work, dissolving my gown into ash and leaving me in nothing but the black lace lingerie I wore underneath.
“You thought I’d burn you?” He asks, his voice quieter now, but I don’t miss the hint of hurt behind it. His gaze is molten as it travels slowly down my body.
“The way you’ve been lately—hot, cold, terrifying—I didn’t know what to think.” My voice trembles.
He growls low in his throat and storms towards me. I don’t even have time to breathe before his hand is wrapped around my throat, tilting my chin up.
“I have not, nor will I ever, physically hurt you. Unless it’s something you enjoy.” His voice is gravel and heat. “And I promise you, from this moment until my last breath, I will make up for how I’ve treated you. I am trying, Daisy. I don’t know love. I have only ever known pain and torture. But for you… I’m learning. I will worship you like a queen, and fuck you like I hate you. And you will love every fucking second.”
His grip is firm but not cruel, and I can feel his chest rising and falling as he stares down at me. He’s right. He’s trying, and it’s not fair that I keep throwing the past in his face. I was cruel to him, too, on Christmas Eve. Yet he’s never once thrown that in my face.
“I believe you,” I whisper. “I’m sorry. I should trust you more.”
