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“What are you . . .” I trailed off.
Ringed, tattooed fingers dipped lower, brushing over the sensitive swell of my breasts that peaked out of the neckline of my dress. His hand, the one that saidkingon the knuckles, continued its descent. Watching him touch me like this was provocative. My nipples pressed firmly against the interior of my dress—hardening for him.
Creator above, have mercy on me.
“Amazing, isn’t it?” he mused, black lashes shifting up as his gaze met mine. “How responsive you are to my touch.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied.
“I think you do.” He pulled me back up, continuing the dance. The light stubble on his face brushed coarsely against the smoothness of my cheek. He whispered in my ear, “Does your body ache for his touch half as bad as it does for mine?”
My cheeks heated.
Ignoring my reaction to his words, I hissed, “I do not ache for you. That is ridiculous.”
“You can lie to yourself all you want. But I feel your responsiveness to me. I can scent it, too, pooling between your legs.” His low tone resonated deeply within me—settling in parts it had no place settling. “Tell me, sweetness, if I were to steal you from this ballroom, unlace your corset and remove your gown. If I were to lay you down on my bed, take your hips and pull them to the edge. If I were to kiss the tender places that he never bothered to. If I took my time with you, something I know he’s never done. What would you do?”
My tongue tangled but it was my feet that showed it. I tripped on the hem of my gown, but he caught me. He shifted us, making it appear as if the slip-up had been part of the dance . . . how easily he covered for me.
But that was just it, wasn’t it?
Death was a man of trickery. He had tormented me for decades. Now, he was doing the same. And worse, I was letting him.
I forged a backbone from a melting spine. “If you were to try that—” I started sweetly, using my feminine wiles to taunt him, “—I would run my blade straight through your immortal heart.” I leaned in. This time, it was me whispering in his ear, “And we both know what that would mean for you,BloodKing.”
Our dancing ended abruptly.
The amusement he’d possessed seconds ago was gone. In its wake was something terrifying.
He pulled away from me, raising his hands in grandeur, garnishing the room’s attention. Instantly, the orchestra stopped playing.
“For those of you who are unaware—which is probably the lot of you gullible idiots—your precious God of Life is not away helping to restore the war-torn lands in the Living Realm.” He paused for dramatics. “He’s rotting in my dungeon.”
People gasped. Some began to weep.
I clenched my fists, but what could I do? There was no point in denying his claim.
He grinned devilishly, sharing an unspoken message with me—this was about to get a whole lot worse.
“But do not fear, good people. I have come to make a deal.” He feigned concern. “I will give you your realms and your pitiful king back. In exchange . . .”
I braced myself.
His gaze landed on me, and he bit his bottom lip in anticipation, his lips twisting into a sly grin. He let it slip free and said, “I ask for the Goddess of Life to come to the Spirit Realm with me, not as a prisoner, but rather, my queen.”
“No!” Arkyn bellowed as he rushed to my side.
My molars were ground so tight that not even a diamond could withstand the pressure. “And if I do not agree?” I snarled.
“Then I suppose I will have to find another way to dispose of the problem.” He laughed, the sound bouncing off the hushed walls. “Ladies and gentlemen, the problem.” He looked to his left, and suddenly, Aurelius appeared. His body, covered in a strange substance, was in a kneeling position. Bonds tethered his wrists and ankles, stretching up to his neck.
I rushed to his side and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. I glared up at the monster standing before me, despising the wicked gleam in his dark, merciless eyes as he regarded me back, watching the way I held Aurelius. His lip tugged into a snarl, but he quickly smoothed it into a sly grin. “Careful, darling, you are getting Marishka’s ooze all over that pretty dress of yours.”
“Fuck you,” I seethed.
You will, his laughing eyes seemed to say.
I bared my teeth at him.
