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The God of Death remains silent in my mind as the lower gods evanesce.
Kanat raises his head to Morrygna and declares, “I will obey according to your will, great Goddess.”
Before he can speak another word, Morrygna and the pillar of fire disappear, plunging the chamber into utter blackness. Without hesitation, I flee the pits and don’t stop until I reach the secondary hall where I collect one of many masks I have stashed.
By Kryach’s cursed soul, I will not allow such a vision to be fulfilled!
Yes, Isla undoubtedly knows I am the one from the Skull Ruins. But it doesn’t mean I’m ready for her to view beyond the mask. Not when Kryach gifts me with the barest restoration for the bounty of her flesh and blood.
Is that why you whispered of her into the Nether-Void, Kryach?I demand in a snarl, my muscles quivering in the kitchens as a servant prepares a meager bounty of fruit, lean pork cuts, curds, barley loafs, sweet wheat scone, and honey milk for Isla. And one other singular treat. Did you know, you damned devil?
While I wait, the God of Death offers nothing but a deep chortle.
I’ll kill Kanat before I let him lay a finger on her. And I’ll kill myself before I let you take her. I’ll fucking walk into the Void and rattle the bloody Isle gates until all the lower gods shatter my soul! Then, see how you play your damned God games without my flesh to stick to.
He growls a solemn warning in my mind, but I accept the tray from the servants.
My bride is waiting. It’s time for our games to commence.
But the moment I kick her chamber door open with my boot, I nearly drop the tray.
Kryach laughs!
Never in all my centuries has a bride managed to prompt more than a smirk or a snigger from Kryach. Nothing like this.
“Hello, my King,” Isla utters in a voice as sweet as a honey lotus but seductive and predatory as a wanton Sythe in heat.
Damn it all to hell!
“Bloody angyls and sacred demons!” I curse and kick the door closed as fast as possible before anyone can see. “What the devil are you doing?” I raise my voice and set the tray on the nearest surface. It teeters on the edge of the cushioned ottoman, but I could care less.
“Not the devil,” she responds, silk-wrapping her wit as I stalk toward the bed where she lies. “At least not yet,” Isla concludes with a wink but doesn’t move a muscle. For good reason.
Kryach foams at the mouth at the sight of her angelic flesh. Fresh-charged blood rockets into my member. Roses, corpus roses, caress the surface of the bed, and upon them, she rests.
Utterly naked.
A few lingering blooms she’s strategically positioned over her breasts and sex along with tresses of her fire-lined silvery hair. But with how much she’s gasping, chest heaving, the blooms are precarious at best.
She is exquisite...ethereal. A banquet of tempting flesh I would love to sink my teeth into. Her blushing cheeks and ripe breasts were designed for my hands to cup. Her luscious lips and even the soft plumpness in her belly and thighs I adore. If a corpse could blush, all of me would turn red as currants at the sight of her body.
Slowly, she smooths a hand along her skin from her throat and downward, easing across dark crimson petals. Until her fingers traipse across her left breast, palm teasing and tantalizing by sliding the blooms away but covering the rouged buds without offering the slightest of peeks.
“I thought you might appreciate a sample before the wedding, Allysteir.” She smiles and mimics her previous movement with her other palm, smile spreading because she’s caught my barest muscle twinging in my cheek. The mask, my betrayer. “After all, forbidden pleasures are the sweetest, are they not, my future husband?” she challenges.
Void, take me!I suck a deep breath of resolve, then turn, gathering all my strength.
She knows how to play the game better than you, Allysteir,Kryach laughs again, mocking me.
We will see.I adjust my mask. Without turning back to her, I chuck the bedspread over her. Petals scatter and cast their fragrance to tickle my nostrils.
Next, I fetch the tray and carry it to the dining table. Out of the corner of my eye, Isla threads her brows low. Puzzled, she weaves the blanket around her frame and approaches. I may have been unprepared at first for this Scarlet Skathyk. But I will never underestimate Isla again.
And I will plunge a bone blade through my damn rib cage and into my heart if Kryach so much as breathes on her.
“Didyou know pomegranates did not originate from Talahn-Feyal?”
Allysteir cuts off the crown’s ripe fruit. I imagine he’s simpering beyond his mask. Mouth twisted into a part grimace due to his mangled face. It was wishful thinking for him to take my bait. Not that I would have minded if he’d had.
