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“We are at my mansion in the city of Ruhanne, in the Living Realm,” he replied flatly. The fact that he answered myquestion at all surprised me, but it did little to ease my frantic nerves.
All nearly seven feet of him dropped into a large, leather chair. He poured two fingers’ worth of the amber liquid in the cup—his fingers that is. For mine, it would have equated to four. He set the bottle on the floor beside him, his arm long enough that he didn’t even have to bend to the side. He raised the cup to me, and then tipped the glass back and drank it straight down.
“Why did you bring me here?” I asked.
He eyed the empty glass. “Because I felt like it.”
“I want to go back.”
Black eyes met mine. “Then you best start walking.”
My lips parted in disbelief. He brought me all the way here just to make me walk back—to the moon? How, for the love of the Creator, was I to do that? Then again, I’d rather walk back to the moon than be stuck in here with him.
“Fine,” I said, dragging the sheet off the bed with me. The length of it cascaded like a train behind me, my gown spun of Death’s black silk.
I weaved around him, giving him as wide of a berth as possible, and headed straight for the door. His leather boot slammed down on the end of the sheet, and the fabric suddenly became like a chain, his foot the anchor, stopping me from going any further. This, coupled with my walking speed, caused the sheet to nearly rip right out of my hands.
I turned, a scowl painting my face as I stared down the menacing god whose power was said to be unrivaled. Catastrophic. I hissed, “Are you a child?”
“Asks the newborn goddess,” he stated with mirth, those wicked, wicked eyes laughing at me—laughing at the title, suggesting I didn’t deserve it.
Ignoring him, I tugged on the fabric with all the might of my right hand, my left curled at my chest, bunching the fabric there. But the sheet wouldn’t budge, not even a hairsbreadth, no matter how hard I wrenched on the damned thing. It didn’t even rip—what was it made from, steel-spun thread? I gave up with a huff, catching the look of pleasure flash in his black, soulless eyes—clearly already celebrating his premature victory.
He thought he had won?Wrong.I didn’t need a sheet to walk out of here.
Without further consideration, I dropped it. Stepping over the pooled silk, I headed straight for the room’s exit. I didn’t know what came over me, but I slapped my ass, signifying what he could kiss. Just before I reached the door, a gust of air and magic flew past me, and the door slammed shut.
I grabbed the handle, jiggled it. Nothing.
I swirled, my eyes hurling daggers at him. A wealth of power was building inside of me, churning, begging for release. “You said I could leave.”
“Did I?” he teased. His gaze leisurely roamed over my curves before they shifted up to my face, a feral black fire burning in those onyx-colored eyes. Before I could determine what had lit the flame, he snuffed it out and replaced it with an empty void.
I wrapped one arm over my breasts, my free hand shooting down to cover myself below. “You are such a . . .”
“A what?” A smile tugged at his lips.
“Bastard,” I said hatefully.
“A bastard, am I?” Carelessly, he tossed his cup over his shoulder, the glass shattering as it struck the ground. He grinned, and it was terrifying and breathtaking all at the same time. “Shall I show you what a bastard I can be?”
Faster than I could comprehend, he moved. I turned to run, but his hand grabbed the back of my neck, locking me in place. Utilizing his hold on my neck, he steered me back towards him, my naked front smashing into his.
“Let me go!” I screamed, my hands shooting out like vipers, aiming for his face.
Large hands caught my wrists, shackling them. He tugged my arms behind my back, securing them with his one hand. His fingers pinched my chin, and he jerked my head up so that I had no choice but to meet his gaze. “I don’t think I will.”
I struggled against his iron hold, reaching for my powers. But right now, they were bowing to his, making them as immobile as my wrists.
“Now, about that gift.” Slowly, ringed fingers drifted down my neck, between my breasts, stopping when they reached the flat of my stomach. They spread apart, his large hand spanning the full width. “I bestow my touch of death upon you.”
“No,” I stuttered, my hands growing more frantic to break his hold.
“Oh, yes,” he chuckled, although his expression was flat. “I curse you, Goddess of Life, to never be able to do the very thing the Creator designed you to do.”
And then I felt it. A shifting inside—a flower kissed by frost. The petals were starting to wither . . . to die.
“No, please,” I cried out, my legs shaking uncontrollably.
