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“Lies.” His soft voice, a mixture of bored and entertained, echoed in her mind. A freezing sensation crawled over her skin like an icy touch. Could he feel her panic? Her need to escape? Her stomach clenched, and she struggled with conflicting impulses, torn between the need to look away and her curiosity to see more of him.
“It’s not a god’s way to save their pets from the danger they’ve got themselves into.”
“T-then go.” The moment she spoke the words out loud, calling his bluff, the panic of being next to a god eased. She shifted her head a tiny bit further to look up at his tall silhouette. Backlit from the fire behind him, his features were as sharp as the blade of her forgotten knife. Even bathed in shadows, he was gorgeous beyond belief. It was his gaze that was the most breathtaking, shining with its own light: a golden hue that matched the glowing crown over his head.
“Cora, is that you?” Julius’ tone carried an edge of surprise, buried beneath barely controlled anger.
“I suggest you move. You don’t have time to waste,” Dargan whispered inside her thoughts, and his solid form faded.
Was he kidding her—how could she go? Unless… Violet held her breath and moved her arm. No longer paralyzed, she rolled from the sofa and to the ground, landing over Dargan’s polished boots.
The air burned her lungs. It tasted like frankincense with a suspicious undertone of smoke. Her arms shook beneath the weight of her body as she pushed herself to her knees. In the background, the sloshing of water was unmistakable as Julius exited his bath.
“Time to go.”
She didn’t have a second to glare, yet she stuck up her middle finger. Dargan’s amusement was clear from the shifting of his brow and the tilt to his now semi-transparent lips. Then he faded fully, dissolving in a trail of mist as Violet forced herself up to her feet.
Her legs trembled like a newborn fawn, and she tumbled toward the fireplace, barely catching herself on the stone mantlepiece. The prickle of its texture sliced her skin as she trudged toward the door.
Her sorcery no longer aided her. Her weakened body lacked the substance to continue to call on her power. So instead she saved what little energy she had left and pushed forward with sheer force of will.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Julius had abandoned all of his false politeness.
Her heart skipped a beat as she tried to move faster. There was no chance she’d make it out of here—he was already so close. Violet reached for the cold tip of the cast-iron fireplace utensils hanging from hooks on the wall. She wrapped her hand around the poker just in time, a split second before he yanked her against his wet, naked body.
He struck her hard, and she would have fallen to the ground if he’d not been holding her up. The noise of the slap rang through the room, and the pain pulsed into her cheek and gums. His hand wrapped around her throat and squeezed her windpipe, hard enough black spots danced across her vision.
Her jaw ached where he’d hit her. He dipped his nose into the crook of her neck and inhaled her like she was a bouquet.
Violet hoped the scent of that alleyway still clung to her skin. That he got a good whiff of the crates of shit he’d so willingly kicked over. But instead of leaving her alone, he pushed into her, letting her feel his hard erection against her stomach.
“You do not know how long I’ve wanted to do this to you.”
Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. He loosened his grip, and she sucked in a deep breath, her throat like fire. His lips traced the skin of her neck, and nausea rolled in the pit of her gut. She would never let this happen, not without a fight, not even if traces of his poison sucked the energy from her body.
“Fuck you.” She spat the words and tightened her hand firmly around the handle of the cast-iron poker.
“I intend to do that to you. Hard.”
It wasn’t time to strike yet. He was too close and pinning her arms to her body with his own. Plus, her weapon was too long to cause enough damage if she attacked him now.
She needed to stab him with it.
“I’m delighted the boy refused to follow through with the Crow’s demands the night of your wedding. He could have fucked you then, and I would have gladly watched, but it would have been hard for me to hold back. No such complications now you’re a wanted criminal. I can have my fun.” His tongue traced the edge of her jaw, while his hand traveled along her torso, clasping one of her breasts roughly.
Violet pressed her lips into a thin line. She wouldn’t fall into the trap he’d set. She wouldn’t give him the pleasure of hearing her beg for mercy.
“Not so mouthy now, eh, Violet? Where’s your fiery spirit? It isn’t fun without a fight.”
“Let go of me, and we’ll see if you’re willing to fight fair.” She regretted her words as soon as they left her lips. Not because they were untrue, no. But she didn’t want to feed into this sick fantasy he’d clearly been harboring for a while.
Julius mouthed at her neck and bit her clavicle, and his hand continued its downward path.
“I will cut that hand off and throw it into the fire,” Violet threatened.
A wave of laughter bubbled out of his throat, and his red-rimmed eyes pierced hers, just as he pushed a finger past the fabric of her pants, digging it into her skin.
Despite the pain, Violet didn’t allow any noise to escape. Instead, she bucked against him—hard. He stumbled back a step, but not enough for her sluggish arm to swing the poker up to truly hurt him.
