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My steps faltered.
No, not driftwood.
The heads of two corpses sat in the frame, one to each side, their bodies and limbs almost braided into the throne. I’d seen hundreds of corpses, but none like this, their skin almost like dried leather ready to be peeled off in layers.
Breathe.
Nothing new.
Nothing but corpses.
I continued toward the throne. Our footsteps echoed from the surrounding stone, the massive chamber void of life, even in the loosest of terms. Where was everyone? More servants? Builders? Heavens, a seamstress?
Orlaigh stopped a few feet away from the lowest dais. “I brought the lass, as requested.”
White shirt abandoned, dark breeches barely tied in the front, the King balanced a jug on his thigh and said nothing. First stubbles shadowed his face, powerful chest glistening with whatever dripped down his chin whenever he took a swallow.
What a mess this man was…
Orlaigh gripped my shoulder as if holding me back when the woman shifted her balance toward the bridge. “Bloody gomeral. Gone for a moment, and this is how I find the man? Drinking himself to a death he cannot die?”
Which would make him immortal. “Should I approach?”
“Nay, lass, back to yer chamber with ye. The Master’s spiteful when he’s sober, but he’s terrible with his mind poisoned by drink.”
I nodded, throat tying up as we backed away, eyes flitting about the chamber. Four bridges spanned a circle into black depths. Four corridors loomed between them. The bridge to the left of the throne was my way out of this nightmare. If I escaped the corpses somehow, I could follow the notches on the walls and—
“My little mortal.” Deep, predatory, the King’s voice cut through my next step, letting my foot stall mid-air. “Let’s see how long it’ll take you this time to kneel before your king.”
Chapter5
Ada
My pulse went wild.
“You may leave us, Orlaigh.” The King dismissed her with a swat before he gestured me closer. “Approach.”
My feet stumbled into motion…
…in the wrong direction.
They turned me around to face him, each step up the dais shrinking away the distance between us, no matter how hard I braced and fought. By Helfa, I wanted to be nowhere near him, yet I inched close. Closer. Closer yet.
An invisible force lifted my arm in time with the King’s. Fingers connected, and he rose to guide me to his throne. When he slumped back down, he wrapped his arm around my middle. One pull, and he bodily hoisted me against him.
Shifting onto his lap like a doxy, I sensed the hard line of his shaft pressing against my thighs and wiggled. “No!”
“Shh.” He brushed his lips over my earlobe where his breath tingled. “Remember, never evade my touch or refuse me your warmth, mortal.”
I breathed against the dread in my chest. “I beg of you, let me go home.”
“The Pale Court is your home now.” The King grabbed the jug on the floor beside him and took a swallow as a corpse limped toward the dais with a new one. “And you, little one, are here for my entertainment. Being immortal can be dreadfully boring without the company of a warm body.”
“Please, Your Grace, I have family—”
“Your Grace?” Another of his arrogant chuckles. “You can do better than that, can you not?”
My molars ground together for a moment, but pride would get me nowhere. “Master—”
