Page 53 of Reaper’s Curse

The taste of his skin, his bloody lip, was euphoric. Similar to the induced effects felt from a dapple of unicorn blood on the tongue.

A low rumble in his chest responded, his tongue gliding along the seam of my lips. I opened for him, and he accepted, plunging forward, devouring, and deepening our kiss.

His hands pulled at me. One wrapping gently along the nape of my neck, the other sliding up my back and drawing me closer, removing the space between our bodies. We were touching in all the places—soft places, hard places, unholy-gods-please-touch-me places.

My heart tripped over itself as it beat faster, more wildly.

And the feel of his tongue inside of me, of his body beneath me, hard and wanting… Reaping hell, it set me aflame.

How had I gone from trying to beat Chace to kissing him? More than kissing him. Because what we were doing in the middle of the street was no mere shared kiss. And I should stop. I knew I should. And yet I didn’t. Neither did he pull away.

Valen, the Killian, both were forgotten. Our family feuds, forgotten. Words, lost. All that existed in that moment was the touch and feel of our skin and our devouring kiss. Hands clutching, teeth mashing, lips melding.

Hands dropped onto my shoulders, stilling my motions. Chace lay beneath me, our mouths resting against each other’s, our breaths heavy and mingled. And his gaze…what? Inquisitive?

I slowly raised my head and turned my attention to the guard clutching my right shoulder. Fight once more began to bloom in my chest, but I stifled the emotion. Whatever Chace had done with his collector’s eye, he had given me the strength to wrangle control of my actions.

A guard stood on either side of me, each with a firm grasp on one of my shoulders.

“You’ve been summoned by the Crown,” the guard said.

The Crown. Now? Reaping queen.

But as frustrated as I found myself, the timing was good. A necessary stop to actions I wasn’t ready for and might later regret.

I shifted my gaze back to Chace. His soft lips, warmed, stormy eyes.

Might. Might regret.

But I couldn’t bring myself to think as such now. Not with the feel of his kiss…and blood…still tingling on my lips.

I allowed the guards to yank me to my feet. I had, after all, signed a contract with the queen, and the last thing I wanted was to break confidence and forfeit my life…per my own blood sealing the deal.

Chace shifted up to his elbows, preparing to stand. “Raven⁠—”

The sharp end of a bayonet pressed to his chest.

His gaze dropped to the threat then shifted to the guard behind the action before swinging his attention back to me. I was already moving…or being moved…beyond the circle, onto one of the converging avenues leading in the direction of the palace.

I watched him over my shoulder as I continued to put distance between us.

I blurted the only word I could drag from my lips, “Sorry.”

A rough yank on my arm swung me around, and my attention momentarily shot skyward. Birds—too-many-to-count crows—flew overhead. Had they been here all along?

Reaping hell, I was a mess.

And Chace, he had helped anchor me…if only for a while.

And now, I was leaving him on the street, with a guard leering over him, a weapon pressed to his chest, and his expression… I couldn’t purge it from my thoughts.

Was he as bewildered and enraptured by our actions as I was?

16

“Oh shit.” The words were barely a whisper as they slipped from my mouth.

The exchange with Raven had left me struck dumb, unmoving on the ground where she had abandoned me. She and her flock of black birds.