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Paralyzed, I do nothing when his mouth descends to mine, forges past my lips, and injects shadows which taste cold and lonely as abandoned graves and lost spirits. My knees buckle, but Ary forces me to remain upright. Wild and breathless, I gasp for air. Still, he does not release me. Decay in my mouth, ice as cold as the Cryth River. Waterfalls of tears spill down my cheeks, down my neck while the Nether-mark attacks me with fire and ice. Death’s skull impregnates my veins with its shadow power. He seals his vow deep in my blood until the full weight of its truth rests upon my chest like a millstone. He’s suffocating me. Now, I understand.
There is no tempting Death. There is no conquering him.
I have failed.
So, the moment Franzy knocks at my door, calling to me from beyond, the moment Kryach disappears into thin air, and she opens the door to my room, I don’t hesitate. Tears flying from my eyes, I embrace her, kiss her madly, and savor her moan. Her lips and body are willing as I remove her gown and mine and drive her onto the bed.
For the next hour, we lose ourselves in one another. No, I can’t forget Death’s kiss, but the pain fades to her amber eyes and sweet mouth welcoming me.
What I love most: Franzy never asks questions. She simply gives and receives. And I’ve never loved her more.
When I hearthe moans of pleasure from beyond the door, I smile and linger within the hall. Well aware of Isla’s relationship with her sweetheart, I would never interfere. Quite common for royals to have consorts. My mother has taken several over the years. As long as such relations are never harmful...rich coming from me.
Kryach would undoubtedly enjoy conversing with me over the bedroom sounds if he were not consumed with Void business. With the wedding tonight, he will have everything in order. Considering all the lower gods and goddesses will be present, observing through the royals they inhabit, the High God of Death has many warning promises to carry out to ensure no disturbances.
Amused, I smirk at Isla’s blissful cries and close my eyes, but after registering my dark rose’s appetite for her lover is far greater and likely to last, I leave the meal tray beside the door and make my way down the hall. Simply because I am cursed doesn’t mean I should or would restrict such companionship. I’ll see to it Aydon does not either. I’d never trespass on the relationship Isla shares with her childhood friend, nor assume my bride-to-be’s heart is somehow too small to accommodate others. Or her passion.
A familiar snigger from around the corner of the hall alerts me. I roll my eyes and withdraw my mask to face the Sythe Queen.
“Narcyssa,” I address the sovereign who strolls near a balcony overlooking a sitting room.
The Queen slides a hand down her velvet black gown, its high collar and shoulders adorned in gold. Her neckline plunges deep to expose the alluring bronze flesh between her breasts. “Oh, come now, Allysteir. You can’t possibly fault me for eavesdropping a little. After all, your future bride is quitedemonstrative.”
Her pupils awaken with a lustful rouge, and I curl my upper lip back when her High Goddess’ essence of tempting wine and roses ripples and folds itself around my shadows. The color of deep scarlet roses, of dark secrets, of rubied lips. An open taunt. My bones themselves tense.
“Rest assured, I look forward to drinking her sweet honeysuckle,” adds Narcyssa, licking her lips, too eager.
I growl. “Over my rotting, dead body.”
Narcyssa flutters a hand, advances toward me. “I’m flexible. After all, the ones we wear have shared pleasure in centuries’ past. And you do not possibly believe you will satisfy such a heart on your own, do you?”
“I’m warning you, Sythe...” I devour her provoking essence with my shadows and clench my fists.
“Poor Corpse King. So threatened. Whatever will happen when his bride discovers what I have to offer? When she discovers I may protect?”
Before she may continue, I harness her throat, squeezing the delicate collar. I savor the brief glint of fear and how her pupils falter before she adopts her familiar crooked smirk of lust, secrets, and calculating serenity.
“Never forget, Narcyssa,” I threaten and jut out my chin, gazing at her with my ghostly eye, its dark cavity wreathed in Kryach’s shadows. “I understand the specific secret of your Goddess’ Curse. Such a secret may be revealed.”
“Shall we trade in secrets?” Narcyssa scoffs and cups my rotted cheek, prompting me to seethe. More when she whispers in my ear. “After all, I have collected all Curse secrets and stored them in my bed. It is ever so large, so thick, so bulging...” she simpers.
I snarl when her lips brush my cheek, when her Goddess’ fleshy scarlet essence wars with my cock. And so, I welcome her mouth when she dares to kiss me, when her tongue probes my lips’ seam to trigger my lust. I sink my jagged teeth into her lower lip and devour her moan, the scrape of her fangs along my tongue, her hand lowering to grip my?
“Enough!” I roar and step back, masking myself in shadows, substituting lust for death, for rot, for decay.
Narcyssa tosses her scarlet curls over her shoulder and pats my cheek affectionately. “Sweet boy. We both know you won’t fuck her tonight. But my bed will be open whenever she desires. And you are more than welcome to join us, so I may collect all those lovely secrets and gift them to my Goddess. You should know, Allysteir, my Goddess of Love is the mostenvious.”
“Careful you don’t turn green with it, Narcyssa. Especially when I penetrate my bride for the first time and she screams my name with such rapture to make the White Ladies themselves blush.”
I leave the Blood Queen and her mocking laughter. Replace my mask. Seek my brother, unsurprised to find him and Mathyr attending to wedding details in the secondary hall.
“Well, such an honor for you to grace us with your presence,” Aydon leers with his perfect grin, perfect eyes, perfect everything.
Dismissing his meager baiting attempts, I sway to the blackwood table and fetch the flagon of wine resting at its center. “My bride-to-be is otherwise occupied. And Death’s business is delayed on account of the wedding. I trust you and Mathyr have everything in order?”
“Aye,” Aydon answers, rolling up a number of parchments. “All elders and lower nobles throughout the kingdom will be present. And citizens from the surrounding cities will flood the Great Hall as well as ships to behold the procession of the Bride followed by the Bride and Groom.
Mathyr’s eyes gleam enough to match the gems adorning the bone corset bodice she wears. “I have sent the flesh maids to prepare both brides and will join them soon to ensure they are...well-groomed.”
