Table of Contents

Title Page
Copyright
Contents
Author’s Note
Playlist
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Enjoyed This Story?
Also by Cyran Faringray
About the Author
Newsletter
Acknowledgments
Legal
OceanofPDF.com
Emerald Heart Of Thorns (A Dark Fantasy Villain Romance)
Copyright © 2024 Cyran Faringray
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any
means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, or by any
information storage and retrieval system without the prior written permission of the publisher, except
in the case of very brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial
uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places,
events and incidents in this book are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a
fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely
coincidental. All characters in this book are over 18 years old.
ISBN 978-3-9826145-0-2
Cover & Interior Formatting: Quirky Circe Book Design (quirkycirce.com.au)
Editing: My Brother’s Editor
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 Contents
Author’s Note
Playlist
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Enjoyed This Story?
Also by Cyran Faringray
About the Author
Newsletter
Acknowledgments
Legal
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Dear Reader,
Thank you for being here and wanting to spend time with my words—
that means the world to me! Before you dive in, please read the following
warning:
While the main characters in this villain romance truly love each other,
their dynamics and intimate encounters are NOT a reflection of
healthy, realistic behavior. They are meant to suit the fictional, thrilling
dark romance setting, but they are not a real-life role model for a good
and mature relationship.
The goal of my writing has always been to blur the lines between
repulsion and attraction. To tiptoe the border between romance and ruin. I
wanted to write true villains and terrible monsters doing monstrously
arousing things.
This book is a pitch-black romance and is only intended for an
adult audience. It contains graphic violence, gore and explicit sexual
content. The main characters in this book are morally black, and they
behave accordingly.
Consider yourself warned. This story is not for the faint of heart.
If you are below the legal age of adulthood, keep yourself safe
and stop reading now!
Content in this book may be disturbing or triggering to some.
Reader discretion is advised. Your mental health matters.
Some triggers featured include—but aren’t limited to—detailed violence
and gore, sex work, needles, attempted suicide, cheating (NOT BETWEEN
MAIN CHARACTERS), blood, abusive relationships/marriage (NOT
BETWEEN MAIN CHARACTERS), alcohol/drug use, stalking, kidnapping,
parent death (off-page, but referenced), death of a spouse, necromancy, and
strong language.
For a more exhaustive list of content warnings, please visit
cyranfaringray.com
Some kinks featured include—but aren’t limited to—dubcon, CNC,
squirting, blood play, mirror play, marking/scarring, knife play, BDSM,
breath play, piercing play, whipping, toy play, orgasm control/denial,
size/height difference, DP, praise/degradation, dirty talk, and exhibitionism.
This book is not a guide for safe sex. It is not a resource for sexual
education or safe practices of BDSM and other kink-related activities.
 The scenes described in this book are dangerous and are not
meant to be acted out in real life—they are 100% fiction and do not
depict realistic situations!
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A Thousand Years – Christina Perri
Love Story - Indila
Love Like Ghosts – Lord Huron
Off To The Races – Lana Del Rey
Stay – Rihanna, Mikky Ekko
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For everyone who dreams of getting stalked and kidnapped by a billionaire
plant daddy who treats you like a queen in the streets… but is dominant af
between the sheets.
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I
knew everything about the slender brunette entering that dim brothel
room on the opposite side of the street—but my wife didn’t remember
me.
I knew how she liked her tea. A splash of milk and one spoonful of sugar.
I knew her favorite color. Blue, but not just any shade. It had to be
cobalt.
I knew how her nose crinkled when she told a lie, no matter how
harmless or how big.
And Gods, I knew what wicked temptations hid beneath the cheap
brown linen of her dress.
My tail twitched and my cock swelled, tenting my trousers as I imagined
her taste on my tongue, her bare body beneath my fingertips.
More than a lifetime ago, I’d studied it like a dutiful scholar. I used my
mouth and hands to map the curves and valleys of her flesh like the deserts
of my homeland, the soft swell of her breasts like dunes, an oasis of endless
pleasure between her thighs.
Every detail was burned into my mind, from that tiny, star-shaped
birthmark high on the nape of her neck to the little dimple on her left cheek
when she truly laughed—none of those polite smiles she gave her clients or
the madam.
I knew how to touch, kiss, and lick every inch of her until she’d moan my
name. But I knew that she loved it more when I hurt her, scratched and bit
her, made her beg for me to stop and plead for me to continue until she
couldn’t speak at all.
Not even a century of separation could’ve made me forget.
But to her, I was a stranger.
 My chest heaved with a long sigh. I was restless, driven by the urge to
rise from my cover behind the chimney to wave and make myself known to
her. I wanted nothing more than for her to see me. The real me, deeper
than skin and muscle, deeper than the world’s superficial gaze judged me.
To her, I wanted to be more than Skrain Ra’shok, Xar’vath’s wealthiest
bachelor. Ruthless businessman. An abrasive, mirthless bastard with a heart
as cold and hard as the jewels from my desert mines.
I wanted to be her everything. Her God, her protector, her partner, and
her master.
My tail flicked as Kerys looked down at a thornless, cobalt-blue rose on
her vanity, resting atop a wooden box. I’d waited for this moment all night.
Maybe this was it, the one, final push to open the floodgates of her
memories.
The glow of a candle on the table reflected in her widening gaze. She
grasped the flower and lifted it to her face, eyes shuttering as her nose
brushed along the petals.
It was impossible, but as if she’d touched me, a shudder of lightning
cascaded through me, making my dick jerk. My palms began to itch, the
pressure of creeping vines beneath my skin, and I rubbed them along my
trousers.
She put the rose with the others of its kind, arranged in a vase on her
nightstand. Some were already dried, others still in varying stages of bloom.
Head tilting, she picked up the box. She walked to the window, holding
it into the moonlight while her fingers drifted along the shimmering, golden
etching on the lid. Her thumb found the indent in the front, and she lifted
the top.
Four tiny dancers emerged; arms raised high, each presenting a small,
faceted gem. A sapphire, an aquamarine, a red carnelian, and a tiger’s eye.
They spun slowly as a delicate melody spilled out onto the quiet street.
I swallowed hard, my tongue stud pressing against the inside of my
teeth. The haunting echo of the past encased my heart like an iron fist, but
the little boy in me couldn’t help swaying, silently mouthing the words.
In the raging inferno, Pyrastra melts flesh like wax
Beneath the blackened waves, Mael’quor holds the drowned in his traps
Inside the dark earth’s bowels, Zemlixa feeds on brittle bone
Amid the howling winds, hear Aero’mos moan and groan
Every Xar’vathi child memorized the notes and the macabre rhyme
about the four elements and their deities. It was one of the first things we
all learned from our parents.
The original music box was a battered heirloom that had been in my
family’s possession for generations. During our wedding night, I gave it to
Kerys, hoping that one day, our offspring would fall asleep listening to the
same melody.
 But like everything I loved, it was destroyed when the flames devoured
our home. My mind drifted to the blackened ruins in the Xar’vathi desert,
the charred remains of our life together, half-buried by the sands.
I’d had this copy of the box made to be an exact replica, including the
broken horn on one of the figures, another missing a leg, and a large chip in
the wood on the front right corner.
The toy maker had given me a long, befuddled stare when I requested
the damage, but it had to look as it did when she last held it.
Confusion flickered over Kerys’s face. Her brows squished together, her
tongue darting to the corner of her mouth.
I clenched my hands into fists. Please, please remember. Please.
The seconds dragged on until she snapped the box shut, startling a
sleeping bird from a nest a few roofs over.
My shoulders sagged. I slumped against the chimney.
Shit. I had to try harder. No way in the Hells I would forsake her—not
today, not tomorrow, not in a damn millennia.
Kerys put the music box on the vanity. And then, as if following an
unwritten script, she reacted the same as every time I left her gifts.
Her head twisted; her posture ramrod-straight while she glanced around
the chamber. Skirt fluttering, she spun and yanked open the doors to her
wardrobe. She rushed to the bed, ripping the blanket off it before dropping
to her knees to peek beneath the frame.
Her face went slack as she sighed and pushed to her feet. She seemed
lost, like she didn’t know what to do with herself, just standing there.
In all the time I’d brought her my offerings, I could never quite read that
behavior, that expression.
Was it relief or disappointment? Did she hope to find me there as badly
as I wanted to be found?
My lips tugged into a wry smile.
She carried the name Ellaryth in this life, but she looked exactly like
Keryssa. Moved exactly like her.
There was the same flick in her wrist to tuck too-short strands behind
her pointed ear—just for them to fall free again in an instant. She wore her
hair like Kerys, too. Chin-length with wispy, straight bangs touching her
expressive brows, often furrowed in silent displeasure like right then as she
rose and strode to the vanity once more.
Her hand hovered over the untouched box of nougat I left for her the
night before, when a warning shiver crept along my spine, putting me on
high alert. I stiffened. My eyes snapped around the roof, a sharp stench
assaulting my nose.
Wet earth, rotting leaves … and brimstone.
I always sensed the demon before he appeared close by—unless I was
using great amounts of my magic at that same moment. He could hide
himself from pure mortals, but to his often-voiced annoyance, our bargain
sensitized me to his presence on an instinctual level.
 “What do you want?” I asked, keeping my tone low.
“You couldn’t just buy her flowers like anyone else with your kind of
money would, huh? No, you had to grow them for her from your flesh and
blood, without thorns so she wouldn’t prick herself,” a scratchy voice hissed
from behind me, the malice in it gnarled and knotted like ancient roots.
“And what’s the latest trinket you gave her? An old music box? You never
change, Skrain. You’re just as much of a hopeless, sentimental fool as you
were a hundred years ago. She makes you weak.”
A red veil of anger descended upon me. My hands twitched, and I gave
in to the monstrous call in my veins.
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A
thorny vine shot from the heel of my right hand, and it lashed out
behind me, at the voice. I hit the roof, splintering a clay tile with a
dull crack.
The demon snickered. “You always miss. Another thing about you that
never changes.”
I let out a scoff. “Of course I miss.” My shoulders dropped and the vine
slackened like an extension of my muscles. “They’re your powers, a part of
your magic inside me, Aculeus. My blows flow through you like air, but it
does get my point across.”
From the corner of my eye, I watched a swirling silhouette of shadows
appear.
A mass of darkness and thorns, shaped like a tall, lanky person, limbs
too long and too thin. Fingers too spindly and head too oval, too elongated.
He didn’t have a face. No eyes, no mouth, only a twisting void. But I could
have sworn he was grinning as he turned to the other side of the street,
following my gaze to Kerys who was brushing out her hair, frowning at her
pensive image in the mirror.
I let out a growl. “What do you want? Why are you here?”
Aculeus locked his hands at his back and tsked. “So, she still doesn’t
remember? And you’re still longing for her, watching her every single day
since your lapdog of a head maid found her in that brothel catalog. Poor
little Keryssa.”
I bristled at the way he said her name. My hand moved on its own,
protectively closing around the golden locket dangling from a chain around
my neck.
“How long has it been now?” the demon continued. “Weeks of pathetic
stalking. Weeks of leaving gifts. Ugh, weeks of looking at her through that
window or following her through town using your vines to swing from roof
to roof to roof.”
Heat flared in my gut. He wanted me to lose my composure, and too
often, he succeeded. But not this instant. His mockery didn’t deserve a
response.
“After all this time, you still genuinely yearn for her.” He shook his head.
“I never thought your infatuation would last this long.”
Calling my affection for her infatuation was an understatement, an
insult.
I huffed in irritation, taking my gilded cigarette case and a box of
matches from my pants pocket. “Don’t delude yourself—or me. You love
when I’m miserable, demon. You feed on my torment. That part of our pact
is the only reason you’ve stuck around for an entire cursed century.
Sometimes when you help me, I wonder why you bother at all.”
Aculeus shrugged. “If you have nothing, there is nothing to lose. Too
much misery dulls its effects. Diminishing returns, as you businessmen call
it.”
A brief pause stiffened the air while I put a roll of tobacco between my
lips and lit it.
“You still love her,” Aculeus said.
I inhaled a deep breath of smoke, letting it stream from my nose as I
exhaled into the expanding silence. Scowling, I tucked the case and
matchbook back where they belonged.
Love.
A feeling so foreign, yet so familiar. One I had abandoned the day I
struck my bargain with the demon. Such had been his price, that my soul
may forget the warming fires of passion and the blaze of affection. He had
taken my joy and my enthusiasm, too—had taken every positive emotion.
Until I found Kerys, so he said, I would never experience any of them
again.
But she was my anchor, my reason to endure, even on my darkest days.
Though Aculeus’s pact meant I couldn’t feel it anymore during our
separation, I knew how much Kerys meant to me. The knowledge was
irrefutable, certain as the sun rising in the morning and the moon shining at
night.
The memories of her were my light and my hope, a reminder that
somewhere inside, I was still me.
All these decades without her, I had known only loneliness. Desperation.
Grief.
And so much rage.
I forced myself to grow numb and fought to regain control over myself.
My heart withered behind my ribs, but it was the only chance to survive.
Had I given in to my fury, I would have destroyed myself and everyone
around me, obliterated the life I built for us while I waited for her.
 The moment I spotted her in that tattered brothel catalog, I recognized
her. Not even a smudged, amateurish pencil drawing could hide her beauty.
I’d raced through town and hid on this roof. When I saw her for the first
time again, through this very same window, I came to life. I was a man risen
from the grave. My emotions returned, just as the pact promised—but all at
once, they were too much.
I’d forgotten how to handle them, couldn’t hold them in.
They dragged me under like a vicious torrent, a dam breaking, the first
rain after an infinite drought, and there were moments I was drowning in
them.
Warmth filled my chest and a shiver surged along the vine. My brows
arched as it began to sprout at the base where it extended from a slit in my
palm. A blue rose with silken petals emerged, just like the one I gave her.
Shit. Sometimes, when my affection for her got too intense, too
overwhelming, I bloomed.
I tossed my cigarette into the street and broke the stem. A sting echoed
through me as droplets of dark green liquid—my blood—welled from the
injured stalk.
Physical pain I could handle, I shrugged it off like the breeze. It even felt
good to bruise and bleed. For a long time, I got into fights on purpose, let
my opponents get in their jabs and kicks, though my demonically enhanced
strength and speed would’ve made them easy prey for me.
Agony reminded me that I was alive.
“The way you’ve been going, Skrain, she’ll never pay off her father’s
debt,” Aculeus spoke up again. “She hasn’t had a customer since you found
her.”
He kicked the large, black sack I’d tied around the chimney with a
length of rope. A trail of wetness seeped from it, shimmering in the
moonlight as it dripped down the gentle incline of the roof.
I’d almost forgotten about the corpse. What a pain.
He was the last one, had taken a little longer to track down, but he
ended up like the other scumbags who visited Kerys. When I was done here,
I’d weigh down the sack with bricks and toss it into the harbor before I
returned to my ship.
“I’ll pay off her fucking debt. That’s not the issue, and you know it,” I
snarled.
“If clients keep disappearing at this rate, the authorities will start
suspecting her soon,” Aculeus countered.
“Authorities? In Hedonfel?” I barked a low laugh. “Nobody gives a shit.
People get murdered all the time here. And don’t start with the Council of
Eight. They rule Zeridia, but they pretend like this Gods forsaken cesspool
of a town doesn’t exist. Besides, Kerys is not a fighter, and she doesn’t even
remember her magic. Not a soul would assume she’d hurt anyone. I just
won’t allow anyone else to touch her. The thought, it—” My stomach turned.
“It makes me sick!”
 I rolled my neck at the whirring sensation of the vine retreating into me,
coiling around my bones to rest. As much as I hated the changes to my body
at the beginning, as much as using my powers had hurt back then, now I
couldn’t imagine being without them. The discomfort stopped decades ago,
all of me adjusting to the magic, being altered by it.
“Actually,” I continued, jabbing a finger at the demon. “This is none of
your business. Especially not after you tricked me.”
Aculeus laughed, the sound more enmity than mirth. “Must we go over
this again? I didn’t trick you. The terms were clear. And it’s so long ago. Do
you intend to hold this baseless grudge for as long as you live?”
My legs twitched. I wanted to stand up, get right in his non-face, but
even under the cover of the night I couldn’t risk standing up on the roof.
Kerys might have noticed me, and I wanted our second first meeting to be
perfect. It had to be.
“My grudge isn’t baseless. You promised you could save us both. Her
and me. You said we’d be together!” I struggled to keep my voice down, my
anger turning its pitch into a savage growl.
“Listening was never one of your strengths, Skrain. I said my powers
would save you from your meaningless, self-inflicted martyrdom, which—”
He gestured at me. “They clearly have.”
“But you promised—”
“Let me finish, mortal.”
I chewed on the ring piercing the middle of my bottom lip. The sooner I
let him finish, the sooner he would go away. If I kept on, he’d blabber me to
death tonight. I looked back at the window to Kerys’s room, just in time for
a last glance at her before she drew the curtains and the light inside faded.
Fucking Hells. Aculeus had taken my attention for so long, I missed her
evening routine.
“I said I could bring her soul back to the realm of the living, but such
things aren’t easy. They take time,” the demon explained. “And I said you’d
be together again, eventually. It’s not my fault her soul was picky when
choosing a new vessel, taking seventy-something years. And nor is your
ineptitude my fault. Maybe if you searched harder, you wouldn’t have taken
another twenty-something years to find her.”
I should have shoved him off the roof for insinuating I hadn’t spent my
entire life looking for her. Not that it would have hurt him, but it would have
provided an outlet for my annoyance.
“Are you done?” I asked, and he gave a smug, slow nod.
“So you’ll keep following the advice of that penpal quack who told you to
stir her memories gently or her mind could fracture? Not even going to walk
up and say hello?”
“He isn’t a quack. His name is Erlan Mavix and he is Xar’vath’s leading
expert on magical amnesia. His advice is valuable.” I pursed my lips, biting
back a slew of curses.
 Aculeus was right about one thing: I couldn’t wait too long, or she might
never recover her memories. There were a few days left before my birthday
celebration, and then, at the latest, I’d take a more direct approach.
“Well …” Aculeus straightened, bending toward me like an old, creaky
willow. “If you get sick of playing around, I could always help. For a price,
of course.”
Grimacing, I put the flower behind my ear before untying the sack. I
tossed it off the roof, a wet thud sounding as it landed in a muddy puddle in
the deserted, dim courtyard below. This block of houses stood empty—I
knew because I had bought it and kicked out every tenant—making it an
ideal vantage point to watch her. If it wasn’t for its location across the
brothel, I wouldn’t have been interested in such shabby real estate.
“Forget it, Aculeus,” I said, crouching at the edge of the roof, a vine
shooting from my right palm, encircling the chimney.
“You’ll bow to me in the end,” Aculeus hissed.
“Whatever you say.”
I swung my legs over the edge, and my tail swayed, keeping me
balanced as I used the vine to rappel.
Kerys’s image burned like the sun in my mind.
Only a few more days and she’d be in my arms again.
Only a few more days, and my wife would be mine again.
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“H o!” the hooded man atop the box seat shouted. He whipped the
reins, and the horses whinnied.
I raised a hand. “Please, wait! Are you certain this is the right—”
Wooden wheels rattled over the cobblestones, the rhythmic thudding of
hooves quickening as the carriage disappeared into the darkness between
dockside warehouses.
“… right address?” I finished my sentence in a huff.
The prick didn’t so much as glance back at me. I didn’t know what I
expected after he didn’t greet me and hadn’t answered any of my questions
during the ride. Conversing with a comfort woman must’ve been beneath
him.
“Pah,” I spat my disdain into the salty breeze, glancing left and right.
I was alone—just me, the thrum of my pulse, and the lapping of waves
against the wharf. Moonlit silhouettes of anchored ships swayed like giants
in the distance, their sails like bound wings, tied tight against towering
masts.
A tug pulled at my chest. I wondered if they’d ever been to Xar’vath, if
they’d seen the infinite sands.
Imprisoned in the port, did they yearn for the freedom of the wide
ocean, or did they long for a safe harbor?
I sighed. What was it I craved? Freedom or safety? Given the chance,
would I follow the call of adventure across the Dreamless Sea? Would I
finally get to see the desert as I had dreamed since I was a girl, or would I
be too afraid?
Nights like these, when the wind carried a bite of cold landward, the
abyss in my heart grew bottomless.
 Why did I always feel like there was something missing? Like I belonged
somewhere far away from here?
The gale slithered beneath my threadbare coat, scattering goose bumps
up my spine. A thunderstorm was supposed to hit Hedonfel soon, and I
hoped I wouldn’t be stranded out here.
An hour’s walk on sky-high heels to the Emporium of Desires sounded
like a nightmare. These were sitting-pretty shoes, as Madam Iletha liked to
call them, and my feet were already hurting from standing around
dumbfounded.
I turned in a slow circle.
Gloomy warehouses surrounded me, flickering lanterns along their brick
walls.
This was surely a strange location for a party.
I’d been told nothing, only that a special client had paid far beyond my
usual meager fee to book me all the way till morning. Why would anyone
pay extra for me? I was a nobody. Many other courtesans at the Emporium
were far more popular. Far more skilled. Most of them offered much more
exotic and titillating experiences than me. I always kept to the basics.
The hairs on the nape of my neck stood, and I glanced over my shoulder,
pulling my coat tighter around myself.
What if this phantom client had something to do with the mysterious
gifts?
My secret admirer visited at irregular intervals, but they always left my
chamber in the same, confusing state:
The window wide open. On my vanity, a thornless rose in my favorite
color, cobalt. Beside it, a box of sticky white nougat with nuts and candied
fruit from that famous shop on the main street. I’d enjoyed them since I was
a girl, and my father bought them as a treat for my birthday every year, but
now they were far too expensive for me.
How in the Creators’ names did this person know exactly what I liked?
I couldn’t think of anyone who might’ve tattled because I never spoke
about myself. It wasn’t so much that I didn’t want to, but past experiences
showed me that people didn’t care. I gave up trying. When I didn’t have to
work, I kept to myself, burying my nose in books.
A flush surged across my cheeks. If I was honest, I liked the roses. Even
dried, they lifted my mood whenever I glanced at them, and such delight
was a rare treat.
My possessions and joys were few. I owned some cosmetics, simple
clothes, and a stack of tattered romance novels and poetry tomes I’d bought
secondhand. Flowers were an indulgence I couldn’t normally afford.
I kept them on my nightstand, even asked the madam to give me a vase
to display them. Their scent lingered for days, and they brightened up my
sparsely furnished room, sprinkling a dot of color into my otherwise dull
lodgings. I couldn’t bear to throw them out.
 The other courtesans were impressed by someone entering my room on
the second floor without being seen. Never mind the generous gifts. They
didn’t believe me when I said I felt watched when I strolled through town,
called me wasteful when I admitted to discarding the nougat for fear of
being poisoned.
But a few days ago, my stalker left something else for me instead of
sweets: An old, scuffed music box.
There were four horned, porcelain figures inside, holding pretty little
jewels, arms stretching to the sky as they spun around and around and
around. I’d briefly considered prying the gems free to sell them, but they
were so tiny, I doubted I would’ve gotten much for them. Stranger yet,
when I thought of damaging the box like that, a part of me revolted so
violently, my stomach churned with nausea.
And the melody was lovely, too. I’d gotten quite attached to it.
A smile snuck across my face as I hummed, my lips vibrating with
cheerful notes.
The tune reminded me of a children’s lullaby, and I could have sworn I’d
heard it before, even the rhyme to go with it. Something about fire, water,
earth, and air, but nobody I asked around the brothel had any idea what I
was talking about.
Still, I couldn’t get that melody out of my head. I’d found myself
absentmindedly humming it while I brushed my hair before bed, took a
bath, did chores—or really any time my mind wandered.
My heart pounded as I walked along the windowless warehouses. In the
months since I started at the Emporium, no other booking had made me this
nervous.
I was desperate when I came to Hedonfel, looking for work to pay off my
deceased father’s debt.
The greasy loan shark he owed had given me two weeks to come up with
the full sum plus ridiculous interest, yet I didn’t even know where my next
meal would come from. Looking for cheap boarding, I stumbled across the
Emporium, mistaking it for a rundown tavern. Madam Iletha—the middle-
aged lady who ran the brothel—offered to pay my inherited debt if I agreed
to work it off in her establishment.
I’d always enjoyed sex, no matter the gender of my partner. And being a
courtesan was definitely better than ending up with my head removed from
my body as my father’s debtor so eloquently threatened.
In a heartbeat, I agreed.
Madam Iletha had her flaws, was short-tempered and opinionated, but
she never forced any of her employees to take on suitors we didn’t feel
comfortable with. She let us work at our own pace, took care of us, fed us,
and clothed us. She even paid for regular physical exams and for the barrier
spells preventing unwanted pregnancies.
 We all heard horrible tales from other pleasure houses, yet the madam
didn’t tolerate violence toward her courtesans. In a way, ending up in the
Emporium of all places was a smidgen of luck among my misfortunes.
And frankly, I’d jumped at the chance to meet this wealthy new client. If
the first rendezvous went well, they might become a regular, and returning
customers were what I needed most.
The past weeks hadn’t been good for business. Everyone who came to
see me on a semi-frequent basis had vanished into thin air. At first, I
thought they had enough of me, but no one had seen them around town, not
even the tavern owners or shopkeepers.
A sour taste laid on my tongue as I remembered the rumors.
Ella is cursed. Everyone who touches her disappears.
I didn’t believe in such childish nonsense, and I sure as Hells didn’t feel
cursed. But like so often, gossip spread faster than the pox. Soon, nobody
dared to book me, and I spent my nights languishing in the brothel parlor,
staring at the wall.
I squared my shoulders. Tonight would prove once and for all that those
rumors were nothing to worry about. I’d find new clients, starting with
whatever idiot was paying through the nose for my company this eve.
I squinted at the walls of the nearest building, looking for a sign
indicating festivities or—
A side door swung open, and a cone of light blinded me.
I let out an embarrassing squeal. Tripping, my heel caught between the
cobblestones, and I twisted, tilted. Fell. Pain surged through my rear as I hit
the ground, but that wasn’t the worst part.
All I could think of was how annoyed Madam Iletha would be.
I didn’t need another client’s complaint about my clumsiness. I didn’t
need another lecture telling me I was too brash and unpleasant and
inelegant.
“Do you need help?” a gentle voice called out in perfect Elvish, and I
lifted my gaze. It belonged to a human woman dressed in a long black gown,
layered with a lace-embroidered, wine-red apron. Long, brown curls
bouncing, the maid hurried out the door toward me, followed by a gaggle of
four other women—Humans and Elves—in the same uniforms. Each one
looked more worried than the next.
She extended a hand to me, and my cheeks burned as I accepted it,
scrambling to a stand, one foot bare on the ground. My lost shoe was still
stuck, heel lodged between the stones. Another maid tugged it free and set
it down in front of me, holding firm until I slipped into it.
“Are you injured?” the curly-haired maid asked, head tilting. Her eyes
snapped down, likely to the ruined heel, thin, dark leather peeling off in
ugly shreds.
My heart sank. I’d bought those shoes last week, and it had taken me
months to save up enough of my tiny allowance. The madam kept most of
the meager sum I earned, leaving me with a handful of coin for personal
needs.
“Thank you. I’m … fine,” I lied, my smile quivering as I forced myself to
meet the first maid’s honey-colored gaze.
I had never been so embarrassed in my entire life.
“Blue eyes, light brown hair to the chin, a wispy fringe … You’re Ella!”
she exclaimed and took my hand. “The comfort woman from the Emporium
of Desires.”
I offered a stiff nod, cringing.
“That drawing in the brothel’s catalog doesn’t do your beauty justice!
I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you immediately. Come, these streets aren’t
suited to a lady,” she said and tugged me along to the door, chattering
away. The maid didn’t look older than twenty-five, but she had the calm
confidence and friendly patience of a woman far beyond her years.
“I apologize that I wasn’t waiting for you when you arrived,” she added.
“The musicians complained about the stage setting and their nagging
delayed me. Your accident is entirely my fault. We’ll replace your shoes, of
course.”
I blinked, stunned by her politeness. Such kindness and generosity …
Who would treat a cheap courtesan with this much respect? Why would they
fuss over me?
She smiled at me as we entered a side room, the other maids’ boots
thudding loudly on rough wooden floors as they followed us. Once upon a
time, it must have been a guard post for the warehouse, but now, it looked
more akin to a chaotic boutique. Or a fashionable thief’s lair.
The space was crammed, candlelight streaming from a brass chandelier.
A bathtub took up the middle of the chamber, the scent of milk and roses
drifting from the foamy, steaming water. A vanity—littered with little bottles
and jars—stood between crates stacked along the back wall. Wooden racks
were lined up in front of the boxes, bending under the weight of priceless,
lavish garments made from the finest silks, furs, velvets, and gossamer.
The woman gave my hand an almost motherly pat before letting go. “I’m
Emily, the head maid. If you have any questions or concerns, please ask. Me
and the other maids are responsible for getting you ready.”
I looked down at myself.
What the Hells was she insinuating?
“Get me ready?” I asked, trying to keep the irritation from my voice. “It
would be generous if you replaced my shoes, but I already put on my best
dress, and I assure you, I bathed earlier.”
Emily smiled again, no malice in the easy curve of her lips. “I apologize
if my suggestion came across as offensive. You smell and look delightful, but
my employer insists that you receive treatment befitting a special, beautiful
woman such as yourself. You are to relax before the festivities begin. Let us
pamper you, please?”
My jaw dropped as my rising temper faded.
 At my silence, the ghost of a frown flitted across Emily’s forehead. “If
you’re uncomfortable, I could ask my employer to change the
arrangements—”
“No, no! Absolutely not,” I cut in, the corners of my mouth tugging up.
“I’m just surprised, I guess. This isn’t usually the welcome I receive when I
visit a client, but it sounds … nice, actually.”
“Then let’s get started,” Emily said, her eyes shining with enthusiasm as
she clapped twice.
The maids whirled around me. One untied my coat and slipped it from
my shoulders, another helping me out of my shoes while a third had already
undone the lacing of my dress.
Did all this seem too good to be true? Sure.
But did I want to turn down a bit of kindness and luxury? No. Both were
in short supply, rarer even than gold.
The tight knots in my stomach loosened. For the first time since I
entered the carriage, I wasn’t plain anxious. I was excited.
Tonight had been off to a horrible start, but things were looking up.
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T
he scent of bitter peach, blood orange, and a whiff of sweet vanilla
streamed from my skin, my hair flowing in soft waves. My outfit was
simultaneously the most scandalously sexy and the most stunning,
precious garment I had ever worn. When I first saw myself in the mirror, I
couldn’t decide if I wanted to tear it off or never wear anything else ever
again.
Tiny panties spun from aureate silk barely covered my most private
parts, a smooth string nestled between my rear cheeks. My neckholder
dress, if one could call it a dress, consisted of fine golden chains interwoven
like a fisherman’s net, brilliant white gems dangling from them. Tassels of
teardrop pearls swung along my thighs, clinking softly with each step as
Emily led me through the dilapidated warehouse.
I couldn’t have felt more out of place as I strutted through decay on
gilded heels, exposed toes wiggling to keep warm.
The air was ripe with mold, and my brow wrinkled while I glanced at
cases of dull metal tools and weathered planks. Wind-tattered sails draped
over towering crates looking like oddly square ghosts. Spare bits of
furniture were scattered in between, stacked chairs, dusty mirrors, and
sofas swollen with moisture.
“There is supposed to be a celebration … in here?” I asked and
immediately snapped my lips shut, wishing the glossy pink balm Emily had
applied would permanently glue them together. At least then I couldn’t say
more stupid things.
Who was I to question my client’s taste? I wasn’t paid to judge or whine.
I got paid to be pleasant—a task I failed at often enough.
Emily chuckled. “A fair question. I apologize for the inconvenience, but
it’s a very exclusive gathering. Strictly invitation only. This location, one of
many warehouses in my employer’s possession, was chosen as a cover to
keep the privacy of those attending. But I promise you won’t have to spend
the night between musty sails and broken furnishings.”
I swallowed the curiosity lodged in my throat.
Some rich folks were eccentric, but I’d never heard any of the other
courtesans talk about a meeting spot this suspicious or a client this
secretive—not even the married or influential ones.
Emily approached a gigantic wardrobe standing in front of rows of boxes
reaching to the ceiling. Favoring me with a grin, she took a little key from
her apron’s front pocket and slid it into the closet’s lock. A few runes of
magic glowed around it and a click sounded. She stowed the key back
where it came from, and when she pulled the doors open, my shoulders rose
in a gasp.
Two human guards with swords at their hips greeted us. Their chins
dipped before making way for us, and Emily laid a hand on my back, urging
me forward.
From the outside, the area seemed deceptively small, but the stacked
crates were merely a front for a torch-lit, parquet-floored antechamber. It
was big enough to accommodate a group of perhaps ten to fifteen people,
not accounting for the space taken up by a yawning, pitch-black pit on the
opposite side.
A jingling rang from behind, and I twisted around just in time to catch
one of the guards locking the door with their own key. I shot an alarmed
glance at Emily, but she kept smiling.
“No need to worry, Ellaryth. These are safety measures to protect the
guests. Please wait here, I won’t be long.”
She made straight for the only item in the room, a slim stone pedestal
with a circular indentation at the top. As she pushed her thumb into the
hollow, the whirring of distant gears stirred.
The ground vibrated, a metallic noise drawing closer. With each passing
moment, the buzzing beneath increased, and finally, a dull thunk
reverberated through the floor. The pit was no more. A white marble
platform filled it, in its middle a sturdy, wooden handrail surrounding
another pedestal, though this one had a brightly glowing glass button.
“We’re almost there. Come,” Emily said, ushering me onto the platform.
She guided my right hand to the railing, closing my fingers around it. “Hold
on tight. The first time can be a little unnerving.”
With a press of the button, the platform surged in a downward motion.
My stomach lurched, and a yelp slipped from my lips. It felt like I was
falling, though my feet were planted firmly on the ground. Well, as firmly as
they could be with jelly knees.
“Creators, what a hellish, awful contraption!” I cursed, my knuckles
blanching as I gripped the guardrail with both hands. “Why would anyone
prefer this over stairs?”
 Emily gave a snorty, loud laugh. “You get used to it. In fact, you’re
experiencing a rare technological innovation! This moving platform unites
magic and mechanical parts in seamless unity. Few of them have ever been
constructed outside of Xar’vath’s royal palace.”
My client truly must have had more money than sense.
Emily’s head tilted as she sucked on the tip of her thumb—the one she’d
used to awaken the machine above. The finger slipped from her mouth,
leaving a small red streak across her bottom lip, and my brows rose.
“Blood magic?” I blurted out, shuddering involuntarily. “This machine is
controlled by blood magic?”
“Another simple safety measure to deter intruders. It isn’t controlled by
blood magic, but rather guarded by it. This way, only authorized staff whose
blood has been bound to the pedestal can use the mechanism. I came up
with the idea.” She smirked, offering a light, careless shrug. “You know, the
more time we spend together, the more I think you’ll have no trouble
entertaining my employer.”
I grimaced. “Excuse me?”
“Most courtesans would say anything to appease their clients. All they’ll
do is smile and purr and flatter. But you’re refreshingly upfront. You wear
your heart on your sleeve—and face.”
I sputtered.
“That was a rather clumsy compliment. My apologies,” Emily continued.
“What I meant to say is that my employer despises meek or inauthentic
people. But you … you’re ideal for the job. He’ll adore you.”
My puffed chest sunk. I didn’t believe a word. She was probably only
being nice.
The platform ground to a halt, and Emily hooked my arm under hers. We
marched through another vestibule, almost an exact copy of the one
upstairs, straight toward wide double doors. Two more guards were posted
on either side. They were Elves like me, but in full plate armor, their faces
hidden by helmets molded to the pointed shape of their ears. Bowing, the
swords at their belts rattling, they threw the doors open, and my breath
caught.
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I
slammed my fist onto the desk, and the maid by the door gasped as my
goblet tipped over. Red wine spilled across scattered papers, turning the
documents into illegible scribbles.
My jaw ticked. The vines beneath my palms writhed.
I rolled my shoulders against the onslaught of adrenaline urging me to
let my frustration out on this innocent woman. She was a new hire, and I’d
already forgotten her name again. Besides Emily, I didn’t interact much
with the staff and didn’t care to, either.
I knew my anger wasn’t her fault, but everything was so damn annoying.
The waistband of my trousers, scraping along my skin. The flickering
candles of the chandelier. I took a deep breath, trying to ignore the music
and shouts of amused guests coming from the hall beyond the office door.
“How dare they deny me?” I seethed.
The maid wrung her hands, shrinking. “They’re … busy, sir. It’s very
short notice and—”
“They’re all busy?” I shouted. “Who gives a shit if they’re busy? I need a
mage capable of opening a portal to Xar’vath, and I need them tomorrow
morning! I’m willing to pay extra, whatever fee they want.”
The woman’s eyes bulged as she stumbled, pressing her back against
the wall. She stammered, gaze flicking to the floor.
I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Have you contacted every
mage on the list Emily gave you?”
“Yes, s-sir.”
“And you used the messaging stone she gave you?”
“Yes, sir. Until its energy ran out.”
I sucked on my teeth, my tail lashing. Fuck. The messaging stone was a
rare, experimental device I’d bought from a shady merchant. It cost a small
fortune, and I’d kept it for decades, saving it for an emergency. With its
magic depleted, I had no method of reaching out to anyone else.
“You’re dismissed,” I growled.
“Thank you, sir!” she brought out, nearly smacking into the wall as she
spun to escape my wrath. In a flash, she was out in the feast hall, closing
the door behind her.
So much for my plan.
A sigh streamed from my lungs. I dropped onto the upholstered leather
chair behind my desk, opening the squeaky top drawer. My foot tapped on
the floor as I took a cigarette from a wooden box inside and lit it with a
candle on the table.
I leaned back, my legs spreading as I huffed little rings of smoke into the
air. My free hand found the gold chain around my neck, feeling down along
the links to the oval locket hanging low on my chest. I traced the floral
engravings, and the tension fell from my shoulders. My pulse slowed.
Except to clean it or replace the chain, I hadn’t taken this necklace off in
a century. It was so much more than a pretty piece of jewelry.
This pendant was a shrine, my place of worship where I prayed for
repentance and forgiveness. But not to the Gods, no.
To her.
Her wedding gift to me was all I had left of my beloved Keryssa, my
darling wife.
I pinched the cigarette between my lips and pried the locket open,
holding it above my face. The corners of my mouth tugged upward.
There she was, smiling at me from behind enchanted glass.
The tiny painting looked so real, as if I could just reach inside and pull
her into my reality, into my arms.
What I wouldn’t have given to slide my fingers along the bridge of her
cute, upturned nose, trace the cupid’s bow of her full lips, or peer into her
bright blue gaze as endless as the summer sky, glimmering with pride and
mischief.
My wife. My Goddess. My Empress.
I ran a finger over the smooth, light amber on the other side of the
locket, encasing a strand of her hair. Tears stung my eyes, but I blinked
them away.
I never understood how I had gotten so lucky, how I’d made Kerys fall
for me.
When we met, I was a nobody. Worse than that, I was a kid from the
poor quarters in the capital turned criminal.
At the beginning, every sin I committed was out of necessity, keeping
the family afloat after my father left us. I stole small trinkets or food
because my two younger sisters needed to eat, and my mother had always
been too sickly to provide.
 Admittedly, I was a shit thief. I didn’t even have magic. But at the tender
age of sixteen, when I rammed my rusted knife into the belly of a guard who
caught me red-handed, I realized I was good at something.
Two things, in fact.
First, killing. And second, not caring about who I killed, so long as there
was something in it for me.
I came to enjoy it. The sticky crimson warmth on my fingers, the
cracking of bone. The screams.
It was addictive.
Maybe that was why I eventually got caught. For many years, I did well
for myself, spending my life hunting down targets all across Xar’vath for
anyone who paid well. But in the end, I was too careless. Too arrogant. I got
sloppy. A witness saw me entering the house of my last victim, and the city
guard barged in—just as I finished the fucker off.
So when I met Keryssa, I was a prisoner serving a life sentence in one of
Xar’vath’s largest privately owned penal colonies, the Che’rath emerald
mines. Green hell, us inmates called it.
A man like me had no right to want a noble-born woman like Keryssa.
Charming. Intelligent. Educated. Gorgeous.
I still didn’t have a right to want her.
But when I saw her for the first time, it was as if an arrow struck my
chest. I could have fallen to my knees right then, and I knew she was the
only cure for my bleeding heart.
She’d walked into the pit on the arm of the mine’s new proprietor,
He’zath Xyrkor, a middle-aged male with a short, curved tail and a
personality as crooked as his horns.
His family name was known among denizens of the seedy underbelly of
the capital. I even had personal dealings with his equally vile brother, Ytzal,
once when they still ran their petty clean up business. He was hard to
forget, his left horn snapped at the base, a gnarly, purple scar running from
his forehead across his left eye.
A killer for hire like me, the kind that got a little too into their work and
liked to make a mess, needed people like them to deal with the blood and
guts. That was before they made a fortune.
Rumor had it they found directions to a massive dead drop of bone dust
—Xar’vath’s most popular and most addictive recreational drug—on a body
they were paid to dispose of. They invested all their money into buying the
mine and building a ridiculously lavish mansion overlooking it. But no
sparkle could hide their filthy personalities.
It was easy to hate my jailer. More so because He’zath let the overseers
abuse us, treat us like animals, let them work us to death. There was no
shortage of prisoners, and our lives were disposable.
But the moment he introduced Kerys to the guards—not only as the new
appraiser and gem enchanter, but as his new wife from Zeridia across the
ocean—I realized I’d never known the meaning of hatred until then.
 She’d done a fine job covering the bruise on her cheek with cosmetics,
and her smile seemed almost genuine.
Yet when our eyes met, I saw the truth.
He owned her as much as he owned the mine, and he treated her like all
his possessions—with brutality. She was an expendable commodity to be
replaced when she broke.
My heart had dropped into my stomach, just like it did now.
I knew I had to have her.
I didn’t have a damn clue how, but I vowed that I would free her. Little
did I know she would free me first.
Ashes crumbled from my cigarette, and I flinched.
“Shit!” I shouted and jumped up, wiping over my sheer green gossamer
tunic.
I extinguished the cigarette on the desk, adding one more mark to the
hundreds of burns and water rings scarring the old wood.
Portal or no portal, I thought as I closed the locket and pressed a kiss to
it. I’ll try my damn hardest tonight. But whether Kerys remembers or not …
she’s coming with me tomorrow.
A shiver coursed along my spine, a hint of sulfur permeating my nostrils,
and I knew the demon was in the room even before his disembodied,
slithering voice reached my ears.
“I could help with your travel problem,” he crooned.
I groaned. “How many times do I have to tell you to fuck the Hells off,
Aculeus? Maybe I should hang a damn sign around my neck. It’ll read,
Nobody wants you here.” I waved a hand at my chest. “I don’t remember
inviting you.”
The thorny demon materialized across the chamber, arms of shadow
crossing as he leaned against a bookshelf full of old, dusty business ledgers.
“I heard your maid frantically speaking to mages across the realm, trying to
get you a portal to Xar’vath. I could make one for you.”
“Knowing you, you’ll send us both straight to the Hells. No, thanks. I’ll
figure it out.”
“Are you sure?” His head tilted downward as though he raised invisible
brows over the rim of invisible glasses. I was certain of a big, fat smirk
plastered across his non-existent face—his tone told me as much.
In annoyance, I ran my tongue stud along the inside of my lip.
All my contacts were exhausted. Besides, the maid was right. My
request was last minute, but when I got word that Kerys had arrived at the
warehouse, my brain had malfunctioned.
I couldn’t think straight anymore.
This was different from watching her sleep, palming my throbbing cock
through my trousers until I couldn’t take it any longer, until I had to go or I
would’ve taken her in her sleep. This was different from leaving tokens of
my affection in her room.
 She was within my reach, and the thinning thread of my self-control was
finally about to snap. As soon as she was in my arms, I wouldn’t be able to
let her leave again. I knew myself that well.
Tonight was the night I would claim her again, take her, make her mine
—in front of everyone.
And come dawn, we would go home together.
A few hours ago, I sent a suitcase full of jewels and coin to the
Emporium of Desires—enough to make Kerys’s debt disappear ten times
over. My note had left no room for negotiation, and I didn’t expect the
owner to cause trouble. After all, my generous donation turned her from a
small fry into a big player.
My issue was getting to Xar’vath without a tedious, long journey across
the Dreamless Sea. I couldn’t waste that much time.
While Dr. Mavix advised caution in the correspondence we exchanged
since I found Kerys, warning not to push her too hard, too fast, he became
equally worried about delaying. The longer a patient with magical amnesia
didn’t recall their past, the smaller the chance they would ever do so.
If the adrenaline and pleasure tonight weren’t enough to make her
remember, then my best hope was to bring her home and perform the ritual
the doctor had suggested.
My mouth dried as I considered the option. It was a dangerous spell
with the potential to fracture a person’s mind and drive them insane, but it
was my last resort.
Aculeus cleared his throat, and I glared at him.
Either way, I had to find a quick way back, first of all. Only a handful of
extraordinary mortal spellcasters could conjure portals stable enough to
travel through. People said money could buy anything, and in most cases,
that was the one immovable truth in the world.
Yet the mages able to fulfill my request were employed by rulers and
monarchs, and most wouldn’t just abandon a position at court and risk
angering their overlords—not even temporarily, and not even for large
amounts of coin. Now that my rage had cooled, I saw their point. For many,
the political influence that came with such employment was more valuable
than gold.
I had never craved a job like that for myself, kissing the boots of some
royal. It was fucking great to be my own boss, to be free … apart from that
asshole demon gloating.
“So you’re throwing a party for her. How nice of you, Skrain,” he hissed.
“It’s my birthday, actually. Not that I’m surprised you forgot. It seemed
like a good occasion to spend the night with her.”
“Happy birthday!” Aculeus mocked. “You want to impress her, huh?”
My eyes rolled so far back they hurt. Some days, I couldn’t tell which
was worse, Aculeus’s blabbering or his malice, but together, they made me
want to throw him through the Gods damned wall.
 “Let me guess. This is your last attempt to bring back her memories—
short of kidnapping her and dragging her to that horrible desert you call
home,” he continued, tone disgustingly smug as ever. “Otherwise, you
wouldn’t be searching for a portal.”
“She will remember.” I gave him a firm nod to hide the doubt worming
itself into my chest.
An armored, clanking knock rattled the door, and a voice drifted from
outside. One of the guards. “Sir, Emily sent word that your companion for
tonight will be arriving shortly.”
My heart catapulted into my throat. “Thank you. I’ll be out
momentarily.”
Aculeus cackled. “Well then, enjoy yourself. I can’t wait to watch you
fail.”
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M usic and light spilled into the corridor, and I didn’t know where to
look first.
Melding, glimmering colors. Movement in every corner.
Lengths of sheer, drooping fabric in shades of red and orange were
affixed to the central point of the round chamber’s ceiling, draped to evoke
the impression of a gigantic tent’s interior.
An impressive golden chandelier dangled in the middle, decorated with
sparkling crimson gems. Its arms held stained-glass casings, each
containing a luminescent orb of magic, casting dots of radiance over the
faces of scantily clad guests in gauzy dresses and low-cut silk trousers.
A handful of people lounged on thick cushions arranged around
bubbling water pipes releasing a thin veil of rich smoke. Others huddled
around tables laden with delicacies and drinks, smiling and chatting. Some
danced to the enchanting melody of a flute and a sensual drumbeat
vibrating through my core.
The only unmoving figures were the few guards lined up in tidy intervals
along the walls, doing their best to blend in.
But everyone in the room had one thing in common. Their attention
snapped to us.
To me.
Curious stares sizzled on my skin. Every inch of me was being evaluated,
studied, and judged. I felt more naked than I ever had, resisting the urge to
cross my arms over my bare breasts peeking through the wide netting of my
dress.
Using my hair as a flimsy curtain to shield myself, my flitting eyes met a
piercing blue gaze so vicious, a gasp wrenched itself from my throat. I’d
never seen so much hatred in a brief look.
 “Who—” I started, but with a flick of long, red tresses, the disdainful
woman disappeared onto the dance floor.
“Hm? Did you say something?” Emily asked.
I forced the smile back on my lips. “It’s nothing. Lost in thought, sorry.”
“If you say so.” Emily rocked on her heels, peering into my face.
“Remember, if you have any troubles or concerns—”
“I’ll tell you. Promise,” I cut in.
Emily grinned. “I’m glad we understand each other. So, do you like what
you see?” She gestured broadly. “I organized every aspect of this event,
from decorations to entertainment, invited only—”
“Only the worst of the worst denizens this city of crime and debauchery
has to offer. Exactly as I instructed,” a deep voice with a slight, rolling
accent cut through the ruckus.
The crowd parted like water.
People jumped and shuffled aside, making space for one man—no, an
ethereal, horned apparition in a forest green gossamer tunic and black
velvet trousers with fine suede boots to match.
Every step, every movement, every gesture exuded power.
For the exhale of a single breath, for the second it took my heart to skip
a single beat, everyone around us ceased to exist.
For one exquisite, fleeting moment, there was only us in this room, in
this world, as if my entire life led up to this point, this encounter.
I had never seen this man before, yet my chest warmed with
inexplicable familiarity. One question laid heavy on my parched tongue. It
made no sense, but I couldn’t stop wondering, and I almost, almost, asked
…
Have we met?
Heat rose to my cheeks. My gaze drifted along his firm biceps and wide
shoulders to pierced nipples, horizontal studs showing through his tunic. An
oval locket dangled on his toned chest, drawing my attention further down
to his chiseled abs before drifting to his face.
He smirked, the golden ring piercing the middle of his bottom lip
shimmering. His pointed ears twitched, countless bejeweled earrings
dangling from their shells. Even his brown horns—rising in a soft, inward
curve from black hair bound in a sleek ponytail sitting high atop his head—
were studded with creamy-white pearls.
His gaze met mine, and sparks ignited behind my ribs. As if I was falling
into his eyes, my stomach jolted like it had on that stupid moving platform,
and I had to remind myself to breathe, nearly drowning in the blaze of their
green depths.
This Xar’vathi was the most arresting, handsome man I had ever met,
and he was looking at me.
Smiling at me.
Creators, he was heading straight toward me.
“Do you believe in love at first sight?” the man asked as he stopped in front
of me, his muscular, smooth tail brushing along the ground, flashes of
decorative metal piercing its tip. Xar’vathi were usually taller than Elves
and Humans, but this tall … I barely reached the middle of his chest.
His spicy-sweet cinnamon and tobacco scent swirled in my nose, and I
prayed my face wasn’t as red as it felt while I stammered.
He reached for my hand, soft, long fingers encasing mine. Without
breaking eye contact, he bowed his head and goose bumps rushed up my
arm as he breathed a featherlight kiss onto my knuckles.
Emily’s laughter interrupted my flustered trance. She turned, waving at
us over her shoulder. “My job here is done. Enjoy yourselves,” she said and
disappeared out into the hallway, the guards closing the door behind her.
“My name is Skrain Ra’shok,” the man said, his digits lingering in an
electric caress until he finally, and very slowly, let go of my hand. “It’s my
greatest pleasure to meet you, Ellaryth.”
“You … you know my name …” My voice thinned. I had been so taken by
him I’d nearly forgotten why I was here. “Wait, you are my client?” I spat
out before I could bite my tongue.
He smiled, the sight contagious enough to make the corners of my
mouth twitch up, too.
“Look at me. Do you think anyone else here could have afforded the fee I
offered for you?”
More words spewed from my lips, even less appropriate for a courtesan.
“How much did you pay for tonight? For me?”
His well-groomed brows quirked as he snickered. “More than the
Emporium makes in years.”
I inhaled sharply. “They scammed you!”
“No, Ellaryth. You misunderstand.” Skrain closed the gap between us,
forcing me to tilt my head back as I gazed up at him. I felt the heat radiating
from him, sending me into a fever pitch. “There is no sum I wouldn’t have
paid, no treasure I wouldn’t have traded for you. No bauble, no jewel, no
artifact in my collection is worth more to me than your presence.”
Every hair on my body stood, every nerve tingling. “You’re insane,” I
breathed.
“Perhaps I am, but it doesn’t matter because I got what I wanted—you.
You are mine.” He smiled once more, though the twist of his lips seemed
different. The spark in his eyes burned hotter, hungrier. His free hand found
my chin, gripping it between thumb and forefinger.
“So tell me, my priceless treasure, do you believe in love at first sight?”
he asked.
My answer got stuck in my throat along with my rapid pulse.
 “No,” I choked out.
As if he had expected my response, Skrain’s smirk grew. He leaned in,
the tip of his nose brushing mine, his breath rich with smoke and wine. My
tongue pressed against the inside of my teeth, yearning to taste him.
“Well then,” he whispered, “I have one night to make you a believer.”
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W
e sat together on a half-round sofa atop a low, cordoned-off
platform, angled for the best view of the musicians on stage. I had
Emily set it up for us, complete with a small wooden table for
refreshments—plus a naughty gift for Kerys, hidden underneath the couch.
My hands twitched, my tail swiping under the seat, sliding along the
box.
It was the first surprise I had planned, and I couldn’t wait to show her.
After a moment, she spoke up. “If I had known you were Xar’vathi, I
would have brought a translation gem from the brothel or hired a mage to
cast a translation spell on me. Then we could’ve communicated in your
native tongue.” Her eyes went wide, mouth opening and closing without a
sound. “I meant for your convenience, not because your Elvish is lacking,”
she added quickly.
I bit back a grin. “It’s fine. If I want to speak only Xar’vathi, I’ll stay in
Xar’vath.”
She let out a huge, relieved breath. Her gaze slid along the crowd before
looking back to me, glossy, all too fucking kissable lips curling into a polite
smile while she folded her hands in her lap.
“If this is your party, don’t you want to mingle with the other guests,
too?” she asked.
I leaned forward, squinting as I stifled a snicker. “Are you trying to get
rid of me already?”
“Creators, no! That’s not what I meant!” She swallowed thickly, a flush
lighting up her cheeks. “I just don’t want to keep you, or make you feel
obligated to spend time with me beyond the sex if—”
“Everyone else in this hall”—I shook my head, waving my tail in a
careless arc—“inviting them is a formality.” Though every muscle in my
body was taut as a bowstring, aching for her, I gave Kerys my best attempt
at a relaxed grin. “No one here is of interest to me. No one can hold my
attention … apart from you.”
“I … see,” she said, squirming in her seat. Her eyes drifted to my groin,
her thighs pressing together, and I imagined pushing my hand between
them.
I needed to make her a little uncomfortable, a little too hot under her
non-existent collar. I needed to get beneath her skin, get her curious, make
her wonder why she feels about me the way she does. And the way she felt
about me was obvious—attracted.
Shit, not like I was doing any better.
I was bursting with anxiety to touch her, to kiss her. My fingers were
almost trembling, my gut twisted in knots. Not to mention the massive
erection hiding under my strategically placed arm across my lap.
My chest burned hotter with every passing second of not holding her. If
I didn’t feel her soon, I was going to combust.
I didn’t want her to think I only wanted to fuck because that was far
from the truth. I wanted to spend my life with her, but Gods be damned, I’d
never been a patient man. And a century of abstaining, stroking myself
night after night after night to the thought of my beautiful wife—I was feral
with need for her.
“Drinks!” I shouted, snapping my fingers, and a maid hurried from the
crowd, carrying a silver tray.
“A dry red vintage for you, sir,” the woman said, placing a glass on the
low table. “And sparkling white wine with fresh raspberries for Miss
Ellaryth.”
Kerys beamed a grin at me, relaxing a little. “Oh, thank you! I don’t get
to drink this very often, but it’s my favorite! How did you know?”
“I ordered Emily to ask the brothel’s bartender when she visited to pay
your fee.”
A lie, of course. I simply remembered her preference from all those
nights we’d sat in our garden, a smile on her lips as she dropped berries
into sparkling wine.
Surprise was written all over her face, an unspoken question blooming
in the pout of her lips and the wrinkle between her brows. We both knew
the bartender at the Emporium didn’t serve fancy drinks like this, which
meant there was no point in telling him about it, and she likely never had.
Before she had a chance to ponder my answer, I slid closer, draping an
arm around her shoulders. She stiffened. A shiver ran through me as we
touched, every brush over her pebbling skin lightning in my fingertips. I
tilted my head, breathing in her scent.
Peaches, oranges, and vanilla.
Gods, she smelled good enough to eat. I wanted to taste her. Even if her
lips were poison, promising a slow, agonizing death, I would have laid down
my life for a single kiss.
 Kerys’s throat bobbed as she swallowed, her gaze flicking to my mouth,
pupils blown.
She wanted it, too, and that just made it worse. Unbearable. But I had
hired her as a comfort woman, and before anything happened between us, I
wanted her to realize I wasn’t just after her body like the sycophants she
was used to.
If I kissed her now—
With the strain of a midday expedition in the heat of the desert, I turned
away and handed her the glass of sparkling wine before taking up my own
drink.
“May eternal darkness blanket this realm and extinguish the stars. May
the sun be ashamed to rise in the presence of your radiance. May this night
never end, so I can keep you in my arms forever.” I clinked our glasses
together and winked. “An old Xar’vathi proverb. Roughly translated.”
Kerys huffed a breathy laugh, averting her eyes to the berries floating in
her drink. “It’s beautiful.”
“Beautiful.” I sighed and took a long sip of tart red wine. “Ever since you
walked in, that word has been tormenting me. Downright mocking me.”
She drank, too, giving me a questioning glance above the rim of her
glass.
“You see, Ellaryth, I’ve been meaning to tell you how stunning you are.
But no compliment in Elvish is good enough. Pretty. Beautiful. Gorgeous.” I
scoffed. “They sound like insults.”
My tail lashed, and I hid the nervous twitch in an elegant caress along
her thigh.
“I-I would’ve been perfectly happy with any of those descriptions,” she
responded, fidgeting with the neck strap of her gown.
I hummed, tapping my chin. My tail flicked again as Kerys stared at me
expectantly, and I could barely stand to look at her, quickly diverting my
attention to the alcohol.
“Pul’xher dyvaz ar’gum lazryma,” I said after a brief pause. “Much
better.”
Her dazzling smile blinded me. “Your voice is different in your native
language,” she said.
I quirked a brow. “How so?”
She bit her lip, shoulders rounding. “That came out horribly wrong—
again. I apologize—again. I meant no offense.”
My heart constricted at the sight of her embarrassment. Whoever had
forbidden her from speaking her mind deserved to meet their end, courtesy
of the vines twisting beneath my palms. For Kerys, they grew flowers, but
for anyone who disrespected or hurt her, they had nothing but poison
thorns.
“Ke—” I faked a cough, stopping myself from calling her by her true
name. “I want to know. Tell me. I won’t be insulted.”
 She took a quick sip of wine. “Your tone is very sultry in Elvish. I like it a
lot, but it lacks the dark passion and urgent emphasis of your native
tongue.”
A whisper of heat flashed along my face. She’d given me the same
compliment a lifetime ago—right before a request for me to talk dirty to her
in Xar’vathi the next time we fucked.
I rubbed a hand along my jaw, grinning. “Thank you.”
Electric silence hung between us, ready to ignite with a single spark.
“If I’m honest, I’ve always had an interest in learning Xar’vathi.
Properly, not using a spell to translate,” she said, eyes drifting. “But I’m not
very good with languages, and I couldn’t even find anyone able and willing
to teach me. Not that I could afford the lessons anyway.” She let out a
nervous laugh. “Would you tell me what those words meant? What was the
phrase again?”
“Pul’xher dyvaz ar’gum lazryma,” I said, and her lips moved with
soundless syllables, repeating them to herself. “Much is lost in translation.
But the closest would be: your beauty makes the Gods weep tears of silver.
Does that sound stupid in Elvish? And fuck, I don’t even believe in the
Gods.”
“No, it’s wonderful! Now I won’t ever be content with someone merely
calling me beautiful again.” She blushed a deep shade of pink as she
giggled, shaking her head, hair flying. One pesky strand clung to her long
lashes and my hand jerked, wanting to reach out and brush it behind her
ear, but she smoothed it over before I could.
She studied my expression, pouting. “It’s curious, though. I’ve never
heard of a Xar’vathi whose faith wasn’t one of the most important aspects of
their life. I don’t mean to imply anything, of course. Religion isn’t as
important these days here in Zeridia, and I admit I don’t believe in the
Creators. The world is too cruel for that.”
“Exactly my fucking point!” I exclaimed. “If they exist, why would they
permit so much pain and misery? So much death?” I chugged the rest of my
wine before setting the glass aside on the table. “When you lose everything,
you quickly learn that prayers won’t save you or bring back the ones you
love.”
I wanted to say more, drop the pretense and grab her by the shoulders.
Shake her.
Don’t you remember, Kerys? Don’t you remember the first time we
locked eyes across the mining pit? Don’t you remember that it was you who
freed me?
She gave a mirthless smile, sighing. “I didn’t mean to stir up bad
memories. Bet you already regret picking me for tonight, hmm? I’m being
all doom and gloom, nosy about the worst topics. Madam Iletha always tells
me to stay away from religion and politics during a first meeting, but I have
the bad habit of blurting out exactly what I think, even if I try not to.”
 “You’re wonderful company, Ella, and I enjoy when you speak your
mind. With me, you may always be honest. But there’s one thing I’ve been
wondering …” I narrowed my gaze in playful suspicion. “You didn’t seem
the least bit surprised to see a Xar’vathi on this side of the Dreamless Sea.
Have you met one of my kind before?”
Her posture loosened as she nodded. “We had a Xar’vathi man at the
brothel for a few months. He was pretty reclusive, but his services were in
high demand. Once he had saved up, he immediately bought passage on a
ship back to Xar’vath. He said he regretted ever leaving home.”
“Sounds about right for most of my kin.” My lips pressed into a line,
brows high. “Those who venture across the ocean often return within a few
years. It’s hard for a traditional Xar’vathi to fit in with the societies of this
continent. No call to communal prayer in the morning and at night, no sites
of worship. Not to mention that the size of our pantheon is confusing to
outsiders—even to some of our own people.
“That makes accommodating our beliefs difficult. Elves and Humans,
your values are very different from ours, too. Not worse or better in my
opinion, just different. Personally, I’ve always enjoyed traveling, exploring
other cultures. And if I hadn’t come to Zeridia to sell my wares, I would
have never met yo—”
The music stopped. As the curtains fell, the crowd broke into roaring
applause. Emily walked onto the stage, spreading her arms.
“Now for tonight’s special guest! The rising star of the desert, come all
the way here to please your ears with her dulcet voice,” she shouted over
the clapping. “The Nightingale!”
Whistles and shouts rose even louder, and Emily hopped off the stage
just in time for the curtains to part once more.
“Nyxis! Nyxis!” the guests hollered. “Nyxis!”
A slender, short Xar’vathi with an alabaster complexion emerged, tail
swaying with each seductive step. Ram-like horns curled from long raven
hair, red eyes shining bright as she smiled at the crowd. Her gown’s
neckline plunged in a ripple of black silk down to her bellybutton, a high slit
exposing her thigh almost to the hip.
Nyxis hadn’t changed since we met for the first—and last time—years
ago, at court in Xar’vath under the watchful eyes of her father. She was still
gorgeous. Charismatic. But just like back then, and even now with my
emotions returned, she couldn’t stir my heart.
Only one woman could move me, make my pulse race, and she was
sitting right next to me on this sofa.
“Isn’t this the bard who played in the capital for the summer solstice
celebration?” Kerys asked. “The entire town was abuzz about her
performance! News of it carried all the way here.”
I inclined my head. “It’s her.”
 The Nightingale silenced the masses with a swooping, yet undeniably
elegant gesture. “Before we begin, I would like to extend my warmest well
wishes to our generous host. Happy birthday, Skrain!”
“Happy birthday!” the crowd echoed, a sea of glasses raising in a
synchronized toast.
“I hate to let you go, Ella, but it’s just for one moment. The way
everyone is staring, I think they expect an answer from me.” I grinned and
stood, giving a wave. “Thank you, Nyxis. You have my sincerest gratitude.
It’s my pleasure and honor to welcome you and my esteemed guests here
tonight. Now let us hear you sing, Nightingale!”
Nyxis bowed and twirled, seeming almost weightless. On her signal, the
musicians played again, a lute joining the ensemble, and her brilliant voice
rose into a cheerful tune. As she sang of fountains of wine and drunk lovers
spinning arm in arm, the guests began to dance.
I had to admit that the Nightingale lived up to her nickname. Even those
who hadn’t partaken before jumped to their feet.
I smirked down at Kerys, offering her my hand. “May I?”
“I was hoping you’d ask.” She clicked her tongue as I led her down from
the platform onto the dance floor. “I wasn’t told that it’s your special day!
Another discourtesy to apologize for, ugh. Better late than never though …
so, happy birthday!”
One hand loosely on her waist, the other entwined with hers in a relaxed
dancing posture, we swayed.
“Thank you, Ella. I wouldn’t expect you to know.”
“How old are you today?”
I sucked my bottom lip between my teeth. “Guess. But I’ll give you a hint
—I’m quite a bit older than you.”
“Thirty-two?”
My brows shot up before I disguised my surprise with laughter. I was
thirty-two when she died, and today, I was exactly one hundred thirty-two.
Was it just a lucky guess, or had a part of her begun to remember?
“Close,” I said and favored her with a wink before steering her into a
fast pirouette. She giggled as I pulled her in close again, and we fell into a
natural rhythm.
I forgot about the crowd around us, and it was just like when she was
still mine. Like swaying beneath the stars, her laughter ringing out over the
quiet dunes. She made a mistake here or there, stepping on my toes, but I
didn’t mind.
I would have danced with her until the sun burned out and the moon
cracked, chipping into pale dust.
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T
he Nightingale’s lengthy encore ended, and we came to a halt,
applauding. A scowling Xar’vathi male—impossibly muscular with
three sets of horns, one bending over his head like a halo, two smaller
pairs at his temples—led her off stage.
On our way back to our seats, I stumbled, dizzy from spinning, but
before I could fall, my feet were treading air.
My breath hitched.
I was helpless in Skrain’s strong arms.
“I have you now,” he whispered.
Pressed against his chest, I blinked up at him. My heart beat rapidly, but
I couldn’t tell if it was the joy of dancing or that gleam in his eyes, or maybe
the way his fingers curled around the bend of my knee.
His face was flushed, red creeping along the tips of his ears.
Did I make him blush—or just the exertion on the dance floor?
He carried me back to the sofa, only letting go once I sat safely and
comfortably. The maid brought fresh wine, and I noticed how thirsty I was. I
didn’t stop drinking until my glass was empty, savoring the sweetness of
berries bursting in my mouth.
“I heard Nyxis was booked out for the rest of the year. The owner of one
of the larger taverns tried to convince her to play, but it was impossible.
How did you manage to get her here? You’re obviously wealthy, but are you
some sort of crime lord?” I snickered at my own question. “What exactly is
it you do? Or will you have to kill me if you tell me the truth?”
Skrain’s head tipped back in laughter, a gilded stud gleaming in his
forked tongue. I swallowed hard, heat rising in my bloodstream as I
imagined what that little ball of metal would feel like against my nipples,
sliding over my clit.
 “I’m a jewel merchant, Ellaryth. I started with a single emerald mine,
but now I own mines all over Xar’vath. And some jewelry enterprises on this
continent, too.”
He paused, looking away. For a moment I thought I had broached the
wrong subject, when he glanced back to me with a grin.
“My success is based on a successful, uh, worker’s revolt. Let’s call it
that. Long story short, after I dispatched the previous leadership, I came
out on top. I changed a few things, and turns out, fair pay and decent
conditions make for happy, eager workers. But as you can see, I still make a
hefty profit.” His smile grew smug. “Besides, I have my contacts, too, and I
can be very persuasive.”
“Oh, I can tell … I mean about the persuasive part.” My face flamed like
the torch of the fire breather entering the stage.
Emily could’ve left off the blush. Skrain was turning me into a tomato all
by himself.
“Can you now?” he teased, raising a brow. “But jokes aside. Did you see
the gold and ruby necklace Nyxis was wearing? And the matching bracelet?
The earrings? The Nightingale is more of a magpie actually. She has a
fondness for luxury, and I was more than able to provide an incentive for
her to consider my request.”
His expression turned serious, urgency narrowing his eyes and
wrinkling his forehead. My heart sped as I caught his pleading gaze.
“I can give you anything you want, too, my priceless treasure. Anything.
You just need to nod, and I’ll lay this world at your feet. You won’t have to
work another day in your life. I’ll make you my queen, drape you in gold and
silver, cover you in jewels, bed you in gossamer and silk every night.”
My pulse stumbled as he took my hands into his. Everything about
Skrain was intoxicating. Those sweet nothings. Empty promises like cut,
painted glass, shimmering like priceless gems. The devotion in his eyes.
Adoration seemingly as deep as the ocean, as if he’d loved me for years. I
felt drunk just from looking at him, listening to him.
But none of it could be true.
Skrain was the worst best liar I’d ever met.
I was no one to him. Nothing more than a pretty stranger. Someone he
paid to fuck him, though I couldn’t imagine why someone like him—wealthy,
charming, well-spoken—would have the need to hire a courtesan. Surely,
people were lining up to spend time with him or to warm his bed.
But no client had ever complimented me like he did. No one had ever
made the effort to make me believe I meant something to them or that I was
more than an object.
Maybe I should have hated Skrain for toying with me. For thinking he
could win me over with such obvious falsities.
But just for tonight, I wanted to believe him.
For these brief hours we had together, I wanted to believe that a man
like him, a man who had everything, could buy anything and anyone,
desired me. Fiercely. Unconditionally. That he wanted me more than
anything else in the world, more than my flesh to use for his pleasure.
Oh, how quickly I caved.
A few hours ago, I’d have called him out on his shit. But now our first
meeting seemed decades ago, as if a century had passed while we danced.
So, I asked Skrain for the one thing I could trust him to give me.
The worst taboo for every courtesan.
The most dangerous illusion.
“Then tell me you love me,” I choked out, shame and lust burning in my
veins. I sounded ridiculous. Pathetic. Needy. “Deceive me. Make me believe
it like you promised.”
Skrain tilted his head toward me, leaning in close. His hot breath
slithered up from the base of my neck, his long lashes tickling like feathers.
“I love you,” he whispered, passion straining his voice, breaking the
letters into glittering fragments.
Creators, it sounded like he meant it.
My throat closed with emotion, and the hot, tingling pull in my belly
swept between my thighs. I had never been this attracted to anyone, body
and mind. It was too easy to surrender to him.
“I can’t stop myself from touching you, Ella. Can’t stop yearning for you.
You don’t understand how lonely my life has been and how brutal I had to
be to survive, to get where I am now,” Skrain mumbled. “My heart is as
hard and cold as the jewels I sell. It’s tainted green with envy, jealous of
every blissful lover, covered in thorns from enduring endless years of bitter
solitude, of guarding myself.”
A sharp scrape of his teeth along my vulnerable throat had me flinching,
and he hitched me hard against him, his digits pressed into my waist,
finding the holes in my dress to dig into my skin. Against the curve of my
jaw, his lips felt even softer than on my knuckles.
“They say there’s nothing money can’t buy,” he whispered, his breath
coming in short gasps. “Yet coin can’t spark a flame in the quiet grave
behind my ribs. I tried. Oh, I tried. But you … you are a bruise upon my
soul. You are the sickness I long to suffer, the sting of venom my withered
heart craves.”
My eyes burned with inexplicable, held-back tears as I gave in to his
nipping kisses, my fingers drifting to his horns. His wandering mouth
mapped a sensual path across my cheek, above my cupid’s bow, to my chin.
Anywhere but my lips.
It was torture, and I couldn’t stand another moment of it.
I turned my head to capture Skrain’s mouth, but his hand snapped from
my arm into my hair. A cry escaped me as he wrenched my head back,
keeping our faces apart.
“Ever since I first saw you, Ellaryth, you have consumed my every
thought, even my dreams. I knew right then I needed to hold you. Feel you.
Taste you. I knew I couldn’t give up until I owned you.”
 More beautiful lies.
Skrain picked me from the brothel’s catalog, just like the other clients
did. He knew nothing more about me than the sketch, my measurements,
and which services I provided. You couldn’t fall in love with a rough pencil
portrait.
And neither could you fall in love with a stranger after a few hours of
drinks and dancing, right?
But my chest still heaved, and my head swam. He made me feel like I
was losing my mind.
Our closeness blurred his gorgeous features, yet I could still see that
blazing need in his eyes.
“I wanted to give you more time, wanted you to know I’m not just after
physical pleasure. I want to know you, Ella,” he whispered. “But I can’t hold
back a second longer. It’s been so long, and we both want this. I know
exactly what you need, my priceless treasure, and if you beg, I’ll give it to
you.”

Skrain’s mouth crashed against mine.

This wasn’t a kiss. It was utter domination, a heated struggle on the
battlefield of my body—and I accepted scorching defeat like a glimmering
prize.
He sucked my bottom lip between his teeth, biting down until it stung. I
moaned, tasting iron as he forced his forked tongue into my mouth,
exploring. Claiming.
Tart wine and smoke.
That’s what the Heavens must have tasted like … because it’s what he
tasted like.
Skrain tossed his head back, earrings jingling when he reached
underneath the sofa. He pulled out a braided rope of black silk, eyes flaring
as they searched mine.
“Hands behind your back,” he ordered.
I was shaking with adrenaline, but before I made the conscious decision,
my body reacted on its own. His assertive tone flicked a switch inside me, as
if I had been trained and conditioned to obey him.
Creators, why were my panties already soaked?
“What are you going to do to me?” I rasped, holding my hands behind
me.
Our lips brushed as he embraced me to wrap the rope around my
crossed wrists. Tighter. Tighter. My shoulders pulled back from the binding,
forcing me to push out my chest. He caressed along my arms, over my
shoulders.
 “I’m going to touch you like no one else ever has.” He cupped my
breasts, the pads of his thumbs rubbing my hard nipples, and my long sigh
made him grin. “I’ll do everything you’ve ever dreamed about, Ella. And
everything you’re afraid of.”
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K erys whimpered as I pinched her nipples. My balls tightened, my cock
straining against my pants.
A fraction of me had been afraid of her rejecting me, afraid she wasn’t
my Kerys after all, and my touch would leave her cold. But she reacted just
as I remembered, just as I hoped.
Shit, I would have given up all my riches to see that expression on her
face, to hear the desperate, wanton sounds leaving her throat.
Brows drawn, biting her lip, heavy-lidded gaze—she was ravishing.
My hands and my commands turned her into my defenseless prey. She
was scared, confused, didn’t understand her reaction to me. But as she
spread her legs for me, a patch of wetness staining her smallclothes, I
couldn’t stop myself from wanting to push her further into the depravity
lurking within her heart.
I knew it was there.
It was me who had shown that darkness to her, led her down this same
dangerous path when we first met, stolen kisses and forbidden touches. I
turned her debased desires from a harmless ember into a roaring fire,
consuming us both.
And tonight, I’d do it again.
I slid a hand between her knees, along her milky inner thigh. “From now
on, while we’re like this, you’ll call me master. And your master wants to
know everything about you, Ella. Every dirty secret. Every naughty fantasy.
We’re good at hiding behind our words, but our bodies always tell the truth.
The quiver of a tendon. The hectic pulse ticking at your neck.”
One hand encasing her throat, my other traced the seam of her panties.
I drew up to her mound, then down again, and she shivered with heat. She
was frozen, lust and fear warring in her shining eyes.
 “You’re terrified, I know,” I said. “You don’t understand why you want
this so badly. But tell me, am I going to find your pretty cunt already wet for
me?”
I knew she was soaked, but I wanted her to admit it, say it out loud. She
stayed quiet, and I let go of her neck.
My wife needed to learn to respect our dynamic again when we played
like this, to respond when I asked, to submit without question. Outside of
the bedroom, she was my equal. More than that, she was my Goddess, her
word, her needs and her wants were my gospel.
In the bedroom, she was my whore.
I reared my hand back and struck her cheek. Not too hard, but hard
enough to sting, and my dick jerked as she yelped. She always sounded
sweetest in agony.
“Use your words. Answer me right now,” I hissed. “And don’t you dare
lie to me, or I will punish you in front of all these people.”
She gulped, eyes flicking around the room as if she’d forgotten where
we were. A few guests had turned their heads toward us, no longer
interested in the fire breather on stage, juggling five torches to the rhythm
of the drum.
I smirked. This was a bold move, but Kerys used to love an audience. I
never would have shared her with anyone—not a century ago, and not now.
Yet I got a kick out of showing her off, letting all these losers know that she
was mine, that they could never have her.
And it reminded me of our first time.
It was a midnight act of desperate passion. Before came weeks of secret
yearning while her husband had me lay out the day’s most precious finds for
her to appraise and pick out the gems best suited for her enchantments. I’d
held back then, knowing it would endanger both our lives if I gave in to the
perfervid attraction drawing me toward her with tidal force.
I thought I was dreaming when she appeared in the barracks like a
wraith, wordlessly dragging me behind a tool shed in the mining pit. She
was scared then, too, that same look on her face, but just like now, she
didn’t stop. Didn’t want me to stop, either.
Nerves flickered along my spine as I remembered how we got caught in
the act by some of the other prisoners returning from the night shift.
I’d expected Kerys to be ashamed, but she begged me to keep taking
her, squeezing my dick tighter while they watched, jerking off to the sight of
me fucking her. The memory alone made me so hard it hurt, but I had a
feeling this time would be even better, our reunion sweetened by
separation.
“Respond, Ella, or I’ll do far worse than just slap you,” I growled.
“Y-yes, master.”
I scoffed. “Not good enough. You want a proper audience? Is that it?”
She stuttered vehement no’s, but I didn’t care. I knew the truth, and I
would make her see it, too.
 In a come-hither gesture, I waved a hand at the nearest rows of guests.
Two dozen or so approached, standing at the bottom of the platform, hungry
eyes gawking at Kerys. They formed a ring around us, cutting us off from
the room, and she averted her gaze to the floor.
I addressed the onlookers with iron authority in my voice. “You can
watch, but you can’t touch. If any of you lay a finger on her, you’ll lose the
entire arm and then your fucking head. That’s a promise. Nobody touches
my property. Got it?”
The crowd murmured in agreement.
I gripped Kerys’s chin, forcing her to look at the group of voyeurs licking
their lips as if she was a slab of meat for them to devour. “Now tell everyone
how wet you are for me, Ella. Tell them how much you love getting tied up
by your master.”
“Creators,” she wheezed, but I wouldn’t be satisfied until she answered,
even if it was in gasps. “I love when you b-bind me, master. I’m already
dripping for you.”
My hand slid under her panties, and her hips bucked as I spread her
slick, velvet folds. “That’s my good girl, finally telling the truth.”
My cock ached for her as I twisted two fingers inside her cunt, and it
welcomed me, clenching around me. Goose bumps cascaded down my back.
I knew I would have all of her later, but my self-control had never been
tested like this.
A few guests began touching themselves, faces flushed and mouths
agape as they watched me fingerfuck my wife with slow and steady
movements. Too slow and steady for her.
“More please, master,” she whined, hips rolling. “Faster, please!”
I loved satisfying her, always did. But I loved making her beg so much
more, and with me, she had to earn her orgasms.
“You think you can make demands?” I laughed as I shook my head. “Oh,
no. You need to learn your place, Ella.”
I pulled out, leaving her mewling and keening. With a swift kick, my foot
met the table, sending it flying down the steps. Glass shattered and guests
jeered, jumping aside.
I grabbed Kerys by the hair, dragging her off the sofa. The wide-eyed
shock etched on her features had pre-cum leaking from my throbbing length
as I pushed her to the floor.
“On your knees,” I snarled. “I’ll fill your bratty whore mouth with my
dick until you’ve learned your damn lesson.”
My free hand found my crotch, yanking to unlace the front of my pants
and pull out my erection.
“You even have jewelry there?” Kerys gasped, jaw dropping as she
peered at the four little spheres of gold, sitting on the ends of crossing rods
piercing the head of my cock.
How adorable.
A smirk tugged on my lips. I’d hoped she’d like them.
 “They’re not the only ones.” Her gaze followed as my other hand trailed
along my shaft, all the way to the bottom, and I flicked the horizontal
piercing sitting on the underside, right above my balls. “And you’re going to
take all of me into your tight throat, all the way until you can taste both
piercings on your tongue.”
Her lips parted to respond, but I didn’t give her a chance to speak and
shoved her head down.
I forced myself inside her mouth. Her hot throat convulsed around me,
and I took a few long, deep breaths to not come in an instant. She gagged,
eyes tearing as she struggled to pull away, but with her hands bound and
my hold on her hair, it was futile.
“That’s right, my little slut, choke on my dick,” I groaned, throwing my
head back. “You can act like you don’t want it, but I know your cunt is
sopping wet.”
The crowd hissed in laughter as I moved her head up and down, sloppy
drool dripping over her chin. She moaned with each squelching thrust, and I
knew I couldn’t last much longer. The plush softness of her lips, the spasms
of her inner muscles …
Heat radiated in my chest. I’d abstained for a century because I couldn’t
bear to defile her memory. Because I wanted nobody else, and no handsome
man or beautiful woman could rouse my heart.
A confession rose in my throat, gentle words unbefitting of this depraved
act, but I swallowed them.
I love you, Keryssa.
No, they weren’t truly unbefitting. This was another way of me showing
my affection, giving her what she craved.
But I had seen the look on her face, the doubt darkening her eyes when I
told her that I loved her earlier. She’d asked me to, wanted to believe it, but
she didn’t … and as much as it hurt me, I couldn’t blame her.
And though she didn’t know it yet, I had the rest of our lives to convince
her of my sincerity, prove how much I cared.
My tail slithered along her rear, between her legs, under her panties.
She flinched as it rubbed across her slit, making her feel each of the
piercings while I lubricated myself with her overflowing wetness.
“Have you ever been fucked with a tail?” I asked. “It’s supposed to be
one of the most pleasurable sensations. Incomparable, or so I’ve been told.”
I positioned the tip at her entrance, and her pussy twitched. Slowly, I
pushed forward, each golden ring sending a shiver through her. My tail
writhed like a snake inside her, touching every sensitive spot, coaxing
pleasure from every nerve ending.
I knew exactly how to drive her wild with desire.
She squirmed, dulled moans vibrating against my cock in her mouth. I
slid from her lips, allowing her a few breaths.
“Don’t get distracted, Ella,” I scolded. “Keep licking and sucking your
master, and you might earn an orgasm.”
 “Yes, maste—”
With a smirk, I forced her head down again. And my wife, my good girl,
did exactly as she was told.
She worked my length with her eager tongue, circling, nudging. Her
cheeks hollowed as she sucked hard, and my eyes rolled. No one gave head
like she did. It was like worship, like she was serving her king.
It didn’t take long until my hips stuttered. A feverish shudder rippled
through me as my cock pulsed, shooting my cum into her mouth. She
swallowed greedily, and if it was physically possible, I would have finished
again, just from watching her throat bob, knowing she was drinking my
seed.
My dick might have needed a break, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t
continue fucking her.
Kerys coughed as I yanked her up. My tail coiled around her panties,
ripping them off and dropping them on the ground. Her body was limp like a
marionette with her strings cut as I sat her down on my lap, legs bent at the
knees, facing me.
I pushed my tail between her thighs, the tip sticking up from underneath
like a phallus, and gripped her hips. My fingers bruising her flesh, I raised
her above my tail and impaled her pussy on it with a single, downward
motion.
Her lashes fluttered as she groaned. I bounced her up and down, her
small tits jiggling with each thrust, her cunt clenching hard around me. My
tail was drenched in her wetness, making it shine like glass.
She was on top, but I was in control.
I couldn’t look away from her face, flushed and twisting with desire. A
sheen of sweat made her skin shimmer like diamond dust, and I licked
across her cheek, savoring the salt before I kissed her lips and tasted myself
on them.
“You may come now, my priceless treasure,” I whispered. “I’m feeling
generous tonight, so I will grant you a single climax. You have exactly ten
seconds to come screaming my name, or I’ll let everyone here use you as
their fucktoy.”
“W-would you … r-really—” she stammered, and I wasn’t sure if she
actually believed my baseless threat, but I doubled down.
“Disobey, and you’ll find out,” I growled, slamming her down hard on my
tail before jerking her upward again and down. Up and down.
Then I started to count, beginning at ten, and on two, she shattered.
A violent orgasm ripped through her, and I wished it was my cock buried
inside her convulsing cunt. She collapsed forward against my chest,
shaking, crying out a single word, over and over.
No, a name.
Skrain.
My heart was bursting as I held her. Like an invisible mark, I smelled
myself all over her face, and I smiled while my digits threaded through her
hair. Carefully, I untied the knot holding her wrists, and the rope loosened,
falling away. Tension left her body, her shoulders dropping.
I snapped my fingers. “Guards, lead the guests away. Leave us. The
show is over.”
Kerys’s eyes closed as I massaged her, rubbing along the rope imprints
on her arms. I didn’t want to think it was just the post-orgasm bliss making
her trust in my embrace, making her trust me to keep her safe when she
was unguarded like this. I held out hope that she knew she belonged in my
arms, our bodies meant to meld like this every day for the rest of our lives.
“You’re worth every copper,” I whispered, snickering.
“Maybe I should be the one paying you.” She giggled. “This was
incredible, Skrain. You are incredible.”
“Oh, you’ve seen nothing yet. I haven’t even shown you half the fun I
have planned for us,” I quipped, placing a kiss on her cheek. “Rest for a
moment. Then Emily will help you to clean up. The night isn’t over, and I
have no intention of letting you go.”
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If Emily grinned any wider, her face would have split in two.
After my first, tantalizing taste of public degradation, I should have been
unmoved by her smug stare while she cleaned me, dipping a washcloth into
a bowl of soapy water. But alas, I blushed. My cheeks still flamed as I put on
the new smallclothes she gave me—the same cut as the ones Skrain
destroyed, made from the same golden silk.
Even as Emily brushed out my fringe and set the comb aside in a chest
full of cosmetics, my face was still on fire. She squinted while she refreshed
my makeup, humming in rhythm with the muffled drumbeat coming from
the main chamber.
Sitting in this dreary room, furnished only with the basin, towels stacked
on a crate, and the chair I sat on, the revelry outside didn’t seem real. Like
another world. The moments of passion I shared with Skrain were like a
fever dream, but his taste lingered on my tongue.
I swallowed hard, my throat delightfully sore from his bejeweled length,
and fresh dew soaked my underwear.
Creators, I’d never seen a man with piercings down there. I was almost
disappointed I didn’t get to feel his dick inside my pussy. The tail was
amazing, too, but I wanted to experience all of him. His hands, his tail, his
tongue, his cock.
“Skrain is quite demanding, isn’t he?” Emily chattered, her question
more of a statement. “But I’m surprised. I’ve never seen him give in to his
base urges like this.” She paused, lips pursing. “Actually, now that I think
about it, in all the years I’ve worked for him, I’ve never seen him court
anyone. To my knowledge, he hasn’t even taken anyone to his bed. I thought
he had no interest in those things.”
 A surge of silly butterflies rose from my belly, my shoulders stiffening.
Did that mean I was special to him? With effort, I kept my voice somewhat
relaxed as I responded.
“Isn’t that what he paid for? A night of pure pleasure?”
“Well, he paid for your company. He has paid for the company of others,
too.”
I blinked. “He hired courtesans and didn’t sleep with them?”
“In any town we travel to, I present him with the local selection of
consorts, ranging from cheap to exclusive,” Emily said, fussing with my
hair. “A wealthy man of his station is expected to attend certain social
gatherings, and that includes a companion to bring along and look pretty—
even to his own celebration. But he’s usually rather indifferent, picking a
man or woman at random. He only ends up making reluctant small talk with
them anyway.” She snorted a giggle. “He was dead set on you, though, right
from the moment I showed him the brothel’s catalog.”
My chest constricted.
So I was special to him … But only for a while longer. At sunrise, Skrain
would be done with me.
I’d probably never see him again.
My breath halted. I shouldn’t have cared. I’d known this man for half a
night, but my heart still stopped when I thought about being separated from
him.
What the Hells was going on with me? I’ve never had problems
detaching sex from emotions before.
“All clean and tidy. You look perfect,” Emily said, setting a reassuring
hand on my shoulder.
Ripped from inexplicable grief, I flinched.
“Are you feeling well?” A shadow of worry crossed Emily’s face before I
nodded, and she smiled again. “Does that mean you’re ready to go back?”
I chewed on my lip. “Can I have a few minutes alone, please? Just to
collect myself.”
“Of course. I’ll go and let Skrain know. There’s a guard right outside the
door. Call on them if you need anything, and they’ll fetch me to tend to
you.”
Emily left the room, closing the door behind her. I jumped up, the jewels
on my dress jingling as I paced. Jaw clenched, I tried to calm myself by
counting the steps from one side of the room to the other.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.
There was no reason to be this anxious.
I stopped, pressing my palms to my face. My eyes burned with
suppressed tears.
Maybe I was just overwhelmed. Tonight had been a lot of … well,
everything. Attention, excitement, arousal. All those undefinable feelings
bubbling in my chest when Skrain touched me, looked at me, smiled at me.
When he breathed or blinked close to me.
 Shit.
I groaned, balling my hands into fists.
This was a job for me. Nothing more. Nothing less.
The music got louder before the door muffled the melody once more,
and I tensed. Why had Emily returned? I couldn’t let her see me cry. Almost
cry.
Thank the Creators I stood with my back to the entrance, or I would
have made the most pathetic impression. If I was smart about it, I could’ve
played my odd behavior off as being tired, my eyes misty from yawning.
I stammered, arms dropping to my sides without turning. “Uh, Emily,
sorry. I need another moment. Could you please wait outsi—”
Something cold and sharp pricked my bare back. A torrent of adrenaline
whirled through me, and I froze.
“Don’t scream, or I’ll skewer you like a pig,” a feminine voice bit out.
My blood ran cold. “W-who are you? What do you want?”
“You dare to ask who I am? What I want?” Shrill laughter like nails on a
chalkboard pierced my ears, and I winced. “I want what’s mine, you stupid
bitch. I always knew Skrain would come back to me, and I waited for him
for so long, but I saw the way he looks at you. All smitten … disgusting! You
must have cast some vile spell on him!”
My breathing was so hectic, I could barely speak. “Me? I don’t possess
magic, I—”
The blade retreated as a hand gripped my forearm, twisting me around.
My eyes widened.
It was her, the red-haired human woman who glared at me when I
arrived.
She blocked my way out, disdain in the downward tilt of her lips as she
pointed a carving knife from the buffet tables at my throat.
“Skrain is mine,” she screeched, the slight wrinkles around her eyes
deepening as her face contorted with rage. “You have no right to be with
him! He loves me! Me! Me!” She pounded her free fist against her chest
with each me. “He just likes to play hard to get, but I won’t let you ruin
everything!”
The heel of her palm smacked into my sternum. I stumbled, my back
hitting the wall before I caught myself. My heart hammered against my ribs
as she skulked forward, her blade shaking.
I glanced at the door. The guard. What happened to the guard? How did
she get in here unseen?
I lifted my trembling hands. “Please, there’s no need for any of this! I’m
just a comfort woman doing her job. Skrain doesn’t care about me, I
promise! I mean nothing to him.”
A thick swallow worked its way down my throat.
That last sentence felt like a lie.
 Even if I couldn’t explain it, nothing wasn’t what Skrain’s touch had felt
like. Nothing wasn’t what his words sounded like. Nothing wasn’t what the
heat of his tone stirred in my chest.
His fingers, his tongue, his voice … they were sparks of fire, lighting me
up inside, turning every part of me, from head to toe, into his.
“Once you’re dead, Skrain will remember who really belongs with him!
He’ll be glad I got rid of you. You’re just an obstacle in the way of our
happiness!” The woman cackled, her knuckles white from gripping the
knife. She raised the blade and—
The door slammed open, hinges creaking as the handle banged into the
wall. Skrain flew into the room. He bared his teeth in a bestial snarl, and his
right palm split, a thick vine surging from his flesh, thrashing like a whip.
Reddish, broad thorns grew along its length, glistening with dark venom.
I blinked as if my fluttering lids would dispel some sort of illusion. Then
a realization hit me.
Skrain wasn’t just Xar’vathi. There was something else, something evil
inside him.
“My love!” the woman wailed, dashing toward him. “You’re here—”
“I’m the only one who’s allowed to hurt Ella,” Skrain barked, and the
vine lashed out.
I covered my gaping mouth with my hand as it impaled her, ramming
into her chest like iron.
A wet crack sounded. The squelching tear of flesh. Crimson sprayed
across Skrain’s rage-twisted features, over his hair, his horns, his clothes.
The knife fell from the woman’s hand, clattering to the floor. She
gargled, her lips forming silent words as she dropped to her knees, red
pooling around her, flowing like rivers in between the stone tiles. Disbelief
played in her dimming, teary eyes and she stretched a weak hand toward
Skrain.
“Disgusting bitch,” he spat. “Choke on your own blood.”
A sanguine flood spilled from the woman’s mouth as she collapsed, and
with a last toe-curling snap, he ripped the vine from her chest cavity. In its
thorny grasp was her beating, bleeding heart.
Finally, Skrain turned to me. The vine slithered toward me, presenting
the organ like a sacred offering. It contracted, expelling a thin, sanguine
mist. Once. Twice. Thrice. Then it stilled.
“For you,” he rasped, shoulders twitching as he straightened. “Please,
take it. It’s my … apology. This never should have happened. I should have
protected you.”
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Athrill coursed up my spine.
Skrain was all animalistic rage, all brutal instinct barely contained
behind the thin barrier of heaving ribs and taut muscles. His hair was wild,
loose strands torn from his ponytail, face spattered with blood. Droplets of
vermillion shimmered on the pearls adorning his horns and speckled his
lips.
I was horrified, but by the Creators, I felt like falling to his feet. Not
from fear, though. Out of reverence.
My mouth dried as I reached out. The vine hovered above my fingers,
unfurling slowly, and the heart dropped into my cupped palms. I gasped at
its weight, the slick stickiness and fading warmth.
“This heart is a promise, too,” Skrain said.
The vine retreated seamlessly into his hand as he looked at me. I
paused, trying to define the emotion whirling in his eyes. Malice? Remorse?
“A promise?” I asked.
“Anyone who dares to harm you will perish,” he said, too much softness
in his words for such a vicious threat. “I will rip out their hearts and offer
them to you as proof of my loyalty, as evidence of my infinite affection.”
My gaze flicked to the organ.
He could have given me jewels. He could have bought me anything I
desired, and in fact, I was certain he would if I gave him the chance. But
this piece of meat was so much more than a gem or a pretty dress or a shiny
trinket could ever be.
The longer I stared at it, the more beautiful it became. Raw flesh
transformed through his intention, through the meaning of this gift.
Devotion.
 I blinked, balancing the heart on one palm, holding it up to the light of a
small chandelier above. For one second, as I squinted, I thought it looked
like a lush, red flower.
Death blooming.
“Can you hear me?” Skrain touched my shoulder, and I jolted, looking
up at him. “Are you hurt, Ella?”
I pressed my lips together into a tight smile. “No. I’m just a bit shaken.
It’s not every day I almost get murdered.”
His stance deflated as he grabbed my free hand, interweaving his
fingers with mine. When I squeezed, he squeezed back, and his head
lowered, neck bending into a crestfallen slouch.
“This is my fault,” he murmured.
A sharp pain echoed behind my ribs. “It’s not your fault. You couldn’t
have known! And you did take safety precautions. What about the guard?”
Skrain growled, deep lines appearing on his forehead. “I should have
him executed, too! How could he fall for a damn simulacrum? But his
punishment is a matter for another time. I’ll let Emily deal with that.”
I glossed over his mention of not-so-maidly duties for Emily. Perhaps her
knowledge of blood magic should have been a hint that she was more than a
regular servant.
“A simulacrum? Someone who looks like her?” I asked.
“More like a magical copy of Lara. That’s her name, if I remember
correctly. We spent a few hours together a very long time ago. Years, I
think. There was nothing between us. She accompanied me to a ball in the
neighboring human kingdom, Valourya.” He sucked on his teeth. “She got a
little weird at the end of the night. Obsessive. She even attempted to follow
me around town for a few days after, but I thought the matter was done
when I offered her a sizable sum to leave me the fuck alone, and she
accepted.”
I rubbed over his fingers, and he relaxed—slightly. “So that simulacrum
distracted the guard?”
“Pah, yes. According to him, the construct came begging for help, for a
doctor. Then it started vomiting black blood everywhere and a small panic
broke out in the area.”
“That must be when the real Lara slipped inside,” I remarked, and
Skrain hummed.
“Even from my seat on the platform, it took a moment for me to notice
that the commotion was more than a few rowdy, drunk guests. I came for
you immediately when I thought you were in danger.” His lips pinched.
I smiled, glancing at his bloody gift in my other hand. “Don’t blame
yourself. I don’t.”
“You’re too kind to me, Ella. You should be mad.”
My face heated as I shook my head. “I just can’t be cross with you.”
I heard how adrenaline made people form an emotional attachment.
Made their hearts sing and their pulse surge, almost like they were in love.
 I’d had plenty of adrenaline tonight. Maybe that was why I couldn’t
stand to be angry at him. Why his presence chased the fear and rage from
my mind like smoke dissipating in the wind.
“I didn’t know Lara was capable of magic, and I sure as fuck didn’t
invite her. She must have had an accomplice to help her get an invitation,
blending in with the stream of guests at the start of the night.” Skrain
clicked his tongue, brows drawn. “The good news is that Emily will be able
to analyze the remains. I swear I will find who did this, and I will fucking
end them.”
His hand that was holding mine twitched. I stiffened as I felt something
writhe underneath his skin, pressing against my palm. My curiosity surged,
but before I could ask if he’d show me his vines again, Skrain continued.
“Shit. This complicates everything. I’ll have to begin an investigation
and tighten security. I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you
aga—”
He let out a chuckle, interrupting himself.
Again? Why was he going to say again when I didn’t get hurt and got
away with a fright?
“Anyway, this was not how I had planned for you to find out,” he said, a
hint of embarrassment in his tone.
“You mean …”
“Yes. The vines. No point beating around the bush now, hmm? Oh, what
a terrible choice of words. I promise, I don’t grow … bushes.” A deep, long
sigh escaped him as he cringed, but I couldn’t stifle a giggle.
How did he go so quickly from fucking feral and menacing to adorable?
“The Xar’vathi call it a bargain,” he said. “The Humans call it a pact. The
Elves of Zeridia call it—”
“A binding,” I finished his sentence in a whisper. “Does that mean you
met a demon and—”
His wry laughter cut me off. “It’s another long story. Let’s just say a
demon saved me from death’s cold grip, and accepting a bargain for a part
of their power was the only way for me to cling to life.”
He paused, expression shifting as he leaned down. Strands of blood-
matted, straight hair fell into his face, darkening his features, that sharp
predator grin sending a shiver down my back.
“Are you scared of me now, Ella?”
“A bit,” I admitted, though that wasn’t the whole truth.
I’d witnessed him murder another person with calculated brutality.
Hells, he’d given me her heart.
But my attraction to him hadn’t lessened. Seeing this dangerous, savage
side of him turned his already strong pull into a magnetic force. It was
irresistible.
I slid my thighs together, appeasing the throb of desire between them.
Those vines … how would they feel binding me? Thorns pricking my skin
as they wrapped around my throat, constricting and—
 Skrain kissed me, and my eyes went wide. The kiss tasted a little sour,
drops of blood shared between our tongues, but nothing could overshadow
the softness of his lips.
He gave me a wink. “Maybe it’s not so bad that you know. At least now,
when we’re alone, I don’t have to hide or … hold back.”
His tail flicked forward, the tip slipping between my legs, granting me a
torturously short moment of friction. I huffed when he pulled away.
“Have some patience, my priceless treasure. Before we head back, I’d
like to get this cur’s blood off me and change. I’ll ask one of the maids to get
me some spare clothes from upstairs. Oh, and you should leave the heart
here. The general public doesn’t react well to such … unusual gestures of
affection.” He waved at me. “I’ll have Emily preserve it for you.”
Nodding, I placed the organ atop the crate, careful not to stain the
towels. “Should I wait outside?”
He grabbed my wrist, holding tight. “Fuck no. I want you with me at all
times. And I want to give the other maids a chance to get the celebration
back into full swing, let the guards secure the perimeter before we go out
there. Besides …” He nodded at the body, lying in a puddle of red. “I have
no intention of letting this bitch ruin our fun. Are you fine with continuing
the festivities?”
For whatever it was worth, I wanted to make the most of the time we
had together.
“Yes, master,” I responded, and the corners of his mouth twitched up.
“You really enjoy being my good little slut, don’t you?” His smoldering
gaze had my stomach flipping, boring into my eyes as if he could read every
perverted fantasy I’d ever had. I wished he could. “If you thought that rope
was something … I have another thrill waiting for you.”
Heat coiled through me. “You do?”
He snickered and set a kiss on the tip of my nose. “Seeing how much
you liked the audience earlier, Ella, I think you’ll love the next surprise even
more.”
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M
ost guests had already returned to their previous activities, making
merry, drinking, and chatting. Citizens of Hedonfel weren’t easily
rattled. Even the band hadn’t stopped playing during the entire
ordeal.
The mass of blackened goo left behind by the expiring simulacrum had
been cleaned up. A round rug covered the spot, the edge of a dark stain
peeking out from beneath its tassels.
The curtains on stage were drawn, thudding and clanking sounding from
behind them, and my cock throbbed in anticipation. Preparations for the
highlight of tonight’s entertainment were in full swing. Now positioned
down on the dance floor, the musicians played a mellow tune to pass the
time.
We took up our seats on the plush sofa once more. While we were away,
the maids had flipped the table on its feet again, atop it fresh drinks and a
cloche-covered plate. Kerys’s bashful smile reflected in the polished silver
as I grabbed the gem-studded handle and lifted the dome.
Her brows rose. She did a double take, head tilting as she gaped at
squares of white nougat with nuts and fruit inside, arranged in a neat heap
on a fine ceramic dessert plate.
I stifled a chuckle. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“That’s not it.” She wet her lips, eyes flicking from the sweets to me and
back again. “How did you know?”
I set the cloche aside. Now all I had to do was play dumb.
“What do you mean, Ella?”
“These!” Her voice cracked as she took a piece of nougat and waved it
in front of my face.
 I laughed. “What’s wrong? Did I offend you? I thought you could use a
snack.”
Come on, Kerys. Remember. I imported these for you every month,
shipped them all the way from Zeridia to our home in Xar’vath. You liked
them so much. The joy on your face was worth every copper.
“They are my favorite, Skrain! Even this exact kind from the candy shop
on Main Street, and I’d recognize them anywhere because only they have
hazelnuts, pistachios, and walnuts inside. I’ve loved them since I was a girl.
Each year, for my birthday, my father rode from our village to Hedonfel to
get them as a special treat.”
A crushing heaviness settled behind my ribs, and I pressed my lips into a
tight smile.
She still didn’t remember.
A terrifying idea flashed in my mind, and I pushed it far away, but the
echo remained.
What if her memories never returned?
“Is that a problem?” I asked before picking up a piece of nougat and
dropping it into my mouth. I chewed, cracking the nuts, overwhelming
sweetness coating my tongue. “These are my favorites, too. I always buy
them when I’m here in Hedonfel. Isn’t it nice to have something in
common?”
I smirked, licking my fingers clean. In truth, I only liked them because
she did.
Her shoulders fell, the hand with the nougat sinking to her lap. “I’m
sorry. Maybe I was too suspicious of you. There are many people buying and
enjoying these sweets. They’re popular for a reason. I just …” She sighed. “I
probably shouldn’t talk about this with you, and I know this sounds crazy,
but … I have a stalker.”
My heart raged in my chest like a cornered beast. Though I burned to
tell her it was me, I schooled my expression into casual curiosity. One brow
arching, my elbows on my knees, I leaned forward.
I had wondered if she’d feel safe enough to bring this up to me so soon.
The fact that she did meant she trusted me, sought my protection …
whether she was consciously aware of it or not.
“A stalker?” I asked.
Kerys gave a shaky nod. “Someone has been leaving gifts in my room.
Flowers and this exact nougat. Even a music box! Sometimes, I feel like I’m
being followed around town when I’m running errands or I get a strange
feeling like someone entered my chamber when I was asleep. Not that I’ve
ever seen anyone who seemed to watch me. The madam thinks I’m making
things up, but I’m a little scared.”
My cock stirred, unbidden thoughts carrying me to memories of her
sleeping. Since my olden days as a blunt killer, I had refined my skills. I’d
learned to be quick and quiet on my feet, the night providing cover as I
easily scaled the brothel walls with my vines and slipped into her window.
During my visits, a sting from my poisoned thorns ensured Kerys wouldn’t
wake while I was in the room.
My demonic empowerment meant I needed less sleep than a regular
mortal, and I had to see her. Protect her. Even if all I did was stare
longingly until dawn, my dick painfully hard.
I snickered, head lowering to her hand. My lips encased her slender
fingers, and the graze of my teeth made her shudder as I plucked the
nougat from her grasp. I chewed, shrugging.
“So, they’ve never harmed you? Just left … gifts? Sounds like a very
considerate, kind stalker, if you ask me.”
“I suppose so.” She bit the inside of her cheek, frowning. “I guess I’ve
never looked at it like that.”
“Besides, you know I’ll keep you safe, right? Nobody gets to touch you
but me.” Her eyes widened as I slid over to her. I picked up another square
of nougat and brought it to her face before she could answer. “Now eat.”
Kerys accepted the command from me just like she bowed to the
previous ones—instantly and with a smile on her face. Obeying me calmed
her as it always had. My wife found peace in the loss of control, pleasure in
submission to me. Deep down, her instincts must have remembered I would
always do right by her.
Her eyes closed as she dug in, savoring the expensive candy. A quiet
hum surged in her throat after she swallowed.
“There you go, my priceless treasure,” I whispered. “Have another bite.
Do as you’re told. You’re so good at taking orders.”
Pink crept along her cheeks, up to her ears, and beneath her fringe.
“Yes, master.”
She devoured three squares, kept eating until I handed her a fresh glass
of sparkling wine with raspberries. When I ordered her to drink, she
obeyed, too.
“So, with your other clients …” I laid a hand on her bare thigh, drawing
circles across her pebbling skin. “Do you always come as hard as you did on
my lap?”
She choked on her drink, stammering and coughing as she put the
empty glass on the table.
I snickered. “I take that as a no.”
Why did I laugh when nausea roiled in my gut?
To be honest, I didn’t know why I brought it up. When I discovered my
wife in the brothel’s catalog, I sent Emily to Madam Iletha to ask a few
pointed questions and find out what had driven Kerys into this line of work.
Soon, the madam let slip that Kerys’s father’s debt forced her to walk this
path.
The rational part of me knew that I couldn’t blame her for her past, and
I didn’t. So-called purity had no value to me. I never understood why people
looked down on those working in pleasure houses. When a person chose the
life of a courtesan by their own free will, it was a profession like any other.
 But it hadn’t been a true choice for Kerys.
If I had found her sooner, if I had tried harder maybe, if I was better, I
could have spared her that fate. Flashes of light blurred my vision as I
swallowed a wave of acid rising in my throat.
Just like every other misfortune that befell Kerys, this was my fault, too.
She glared at me, letting out an incredulous huff. “Are you jealous?”
I wound a hand into her hair and tugged her closer until her shallow
breaths danced over my lips. “Of course I’m fucking jealous. I want to cut
off the fingers of every single person who touched you. Rip out their
tongues for kissing you. Pluck out their eyes for looking at you.”
Her lips trembled as my mouth crashed against hers, and her arms
coiled around my neck. She held me tight, hungry tongue searching for
mine. I tasted the desperate confusion in her kiss, saw the fight in her eyes.
She didn’t want to believe me. But she did.
Somewhere buried inside her soul, was a part of my Kerys. A fragment
of her that knew I spoke the truth, that I had a right to be jealous. That she
belonged to me, and me alone.
I pulled back, her gaze glassy and hooded as she looked at me.
“You didn’t answer my question. Then let me try another. How many
times have you come in a row when you touch yourself?” I asked. “How
many times has your tight cunt fluttered around your fingers, soaking the
sheets of your bed at night?”
“Two times at most,” she whispered.
“Now that isn’t enough for a hopeless slut like you, Ella. I know your
greedy pussy needs more. We’ll have to work on that.”
Her jaw slackened, but she nodded. I wondered if there was anything I
could order her to do that would be met with refusal. Perhaps I would find
out soon enough.
The curtains on stage parted, and I stood, pulling her up alongside me.
Her brows squished together as she bit her lip.
“Where are we going?” she asked, tension in her voice.
“We’ll work on your record right here, right now.”
She inhaled a sharp breath, and I couldn’t stifle a smirk. “You’re joking,
Skrain.”
“Oh, I assure you I’m deadly serious.” I led her down from the platform,
toward the stage. “When I’m done with you, you won’t know the difference
between pleasure and pain, my priceless treasure. You’ll love how I make
you suffer—and you’ll beg for more.”
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M
y heart hammered. I was sure it would leap right out of my mouth
and into the hollering crowd in front of the illuminated stage while
Skrain dragged me to the center, where a strange piece of lavish
furniture had been set up.
My stomach fluttered as I took in the tall, x-shaped construction affixed
to a secure, wide base. Supported by a sturdy rod, the golden cross stood at
a slight backward-leaning angle. Spots of light reflected off its shiny,
smooth surface, dark red gems framing the edges, and my pulse beat
quicker still as I noticed O-rings anchored to the ends of the beams.
“What is all this for?” I asked over a sensual flute melody and the heavy,
seductive beat of a drum.
Skrain winked. “I’ll show you.”
He brought me to the cross and twirled me around by the shoulders. His
body shielded me from the crowd as he leaned in, a gentle but firm hand on
my waist pressing me back against the cold structure.
“You’re so tense. Relax, Ella,” he murmured, and the wicked lilt in his
voice made my chest constrict.
After his change of clothes, his black leather trousers and dark tunic
reminded me of an executioner, befitting of the apprehension roiling
through me. I felt like a willing lamb led to slaughter.
He straightened, his fiery, hard gaze meeting mine. A muscle in his jaw
feathered, the outline of his growing erection visibly straining against his
trousers.
He didn’t have to say it out loud. I understood anyway.
Skrain enjoyed my fear.
He enjoyed my pleasure when I came on his lap, but he got a sick kick
out of terrifying me. Maybe he liked that even more.
 Maybe I liked that even more.
Emily entered the stage, carrying a small wooden box, and Skrain
turned to her. I quivered when his attention left me, as if the flames of
passion in his eyes had been keeping me warm.
The head maid presented the box on her outstretched palms. Skrain
opened it, reaching inside, and the clinking of metal links sent shivers
cascading down my spine far before I saw what he retrieved:
A padded leather cuff with a short chain and a hook at the end.
As if it was a precious bracelet, he opened the clasp on the restraint and
carefully put it around my left wrist. With a grin, he raised my hand to put a
reverent kiss on each of my knuckles—exactly how he had when we met
earlier.
I couldn’t stop wondering if he’d been thinking of this moment even
then. If he had been looking forward to the horror on my face.
He stretched my arm above my head, aligning it with the cross’s beam.
With a click, the hook snapped into place. I gasped. Panicked, I tore at the
chain, now connecting the cuff with the O-ring.
Skrain tutted. “Stay still,” he said, taking out a second restraint while I
sputtered.
He repeated the same process with my other wrist.
Cuff.
Kiss.
Click.
I stood with both arms raised. No escape. Alarm bells rang in my skull
like it was a church tower, but Creators, why did a tickle of arousal pool at
the apex of my thighs?
Skrain’s hands slid under my dress, hooking a finger each into the band
of my damp panties. I gulped when he pulled them down slowly, taking
them off. The crowd hollered, and blush lit up my features.
Through the netting of my dress, everyone, absolutely everyone, could
see my bare pussy.
Skrain brought the golden undergarment to his face, burying his nose in
it. His eyes shut as he inhaled. “Delicious,” he muttered before his lids
sprung open, and he tossed my underwear into the auditorium. “That’s all
you’ll get from her! Enjoy it!” he shouted.
Below, people turned into wild beasts. Everyone wanted a piece of me,
and this scrap of fabric was the closest they would get. Lust coiled in my
belly while they pushed and shoved each other, elbowing one another as
they ripped my panties to shreds.
I glanced at Skrain, rattling the chains. “Do I get a vote in all of this?”
A third restraint already in his hands, he bent down to my right leg. He
put the shackle around my ankle and bound it to the cross. His eyes
widened as he straightened, lips curling into a kind smile.
 “But of course you get a vote, my priceless treasure,” he cooed, his tone
sweet as honey while he took a fourth cuff from the box. He kissed my
cheek, teasing tongue swirling up to my ear. “It just doesn’t count.”

No effort could move my legs from their spread position.

No struggle could free my wrists.
I was immobilized, arms and ankles shackled, but I was dripping wet—
and Skrain hadn’t even touched me yet.
Fear sunk its icy claws deeper into me, curling around my bones, but
another sensation soared just as high. Higher. A feeling so close to terror,
they tasted the same, felt the same, sounded the same.
Salt above my upper lip.
Every nerve shuddering with adrenaline.
The pounding rush of blood.
Desire.
Skrain admired his handiwork, sliding strong fingers along his jawline as
he looked me over. “My beautiful, pathetic little Ella. I wish you could see
how gorgeous you are right now.” He stepped aside and gestured at me
with one hand, the other sweeping toward the crowd. “Isn’t she ravishing
like this? Bound and defenseless?” he shouted.
The guests hooted and clapped, and my heart leaped.
The space below the stage was dimly lit now, but not dark enough for
the audience to blend into a comfortingly umbral mass. Just bright enough
to make out wolfish, heated faces in the first rows.
Just bright enough to never let me forget that I was being watched.
I swallowed hard, the lust-filled stares of hundreds of strangers creeping
over my body like pricks of hot needles. The air was static with want,
making the hairs on my arms rise.
“There’s one thing you have to know, Ella,” Skrain said, loud enough for
only me to hear. “And I want you to listen closely, so you understand.”
“Yes, master,” I answered reflexively.
“When you’re with me, stop doesn’t exist. When we’re together, no isn’t
part of your vocabulary.”
My clit throbbed as I nodded, biting my lip. I knew I shouldn’t have
reacted like this to his threats, but I couldn’t stop myself. Giving away
control, putting myself at the mercy of this man I’d known for no longer
than a few hours was a wicked fantasy come true … one I didn’t know I had.
“I’m finished with you when I say so. Not a second earlier.” He reached
into the box once more but hid whatever he took from it in his cupped
hands, turning back to me while Emily walked off the stage. “No begging
and no pleading can save you from me. And believe me, Ella. You will beg.”
 His palms parted, his smile widening into lascivious malice as he raised
a sparkling object to my face.
It was a smooth, clear gem, carved into the shape of a girthy, flattened C
with wider ends. Inside it sloshed a dark green liquid. As he dragged the
frigid double tips from my chest to my groin, a shudder echoed through me,
my nipples peaking.
“I had this toy crafted just for you,” he said.
My brows shot up. I’d seen and tried wooden phalluses, even leather.
Some glass. But this … “A crystal? For me?”
“Not just any crystal.” He snickered. “This is the largest, purest
diamond in the entire realm, enchanted and shaped to give you pleasure.
You only deserve the best, my priceless treasure.”
A surprised moan tore from my throat as Skrain twisted one tip into my
waiting cunt. It felt like a rod of faintly flexible ice, a shock to my senses
and fuck—what an amazing stretch.
The deeper it penetrated me, the higher the other end slid along the
outside of my swollen folds. When the toy bottomed out, the other half of
the C-shape sat snug against my body. With every contraction of my
muscles, the inner part brushed against the forward pleasure spot in my
pussy, and the outer bit pressed right on top of my clit.
Skrain’s eyes were heavy with lust as they flicked to mine. “You don’t
know how long I’ve waited to do this to you.” His expression tightened a
fraction and a tingle of magic flickered through the air.
The toy began to vibrate.
A groan slipped from my lips, stunned by the new sensation.
I’d used toys before, but none of them moved. Nothing I’d ever felt could
compare to the low, teasing hum rumbling through me and tickling my clit.
In an instant, I was addicted.
“How—” I got out before the vibrations increased, and my breath
caught.
Skrain grinned, the stud in his tongue dragging along his lower lip as he
watched me squirm. “Do you want me to turn it up more?”
“You … control … t-this?” I gasped, an approaching climax turning my
brain into useless pulp.
“I do. The blood inside is mine, bound to me. My magic fuels the tremors
coaxing those lovely sounds from your plush mouth. And the toy will obey
any command I give.”
I spasmed as the vibrations increased by a thousandfold—at once. My
cry rose above the music. I tensed, but just before my orgasm came
crashing down, the toy stilled.
“More,” I groaned. “Please … please, don’t stop.”
Skrain regarded me with a mocking crinkle on his brow. “I thought you
had learned something when I shut up your impetuous demands with my
cock in your throat.”
“I have!”
 “No, Ella. You haven’t. But by the end of the night, you’ll be wiser.”
That was a threat, too. Not even thinly veiled. It was a blatant threat
that had my pussy squeezing around the massive diamond buried inside it.
“Cut the music!” Skrain ordered, and the hall fell silent. “I want
everyone to hear how I’ll make you scream.”
Emily re-entered the stage, carrying a wooden tray. On Skrain’s
wordless command, expressed through a wave of his hand, she approached
and presented it to me. I poked my tongue into my cheek, trying to make
sense of the startling display.
Thick, hollow needles and a silver-framed hand mirror rested on a
square of black silk, next to three pieces of exquisite jewelry. Two golden
rings, each adorned with a large diamond, and one curved stud with a
sizable, round diamond at each end.
Skrain smiled as he picked up a needle, and Emily stepped aside to
make space for him.
“These are for you, too,” he said.
My blood froze. “You’re going to pierce me? Right now? Here?”
He drew a sharp inhale. “Yes. I want you covered in my jewels. I want
you dripping all over my diamond in your cunt while I push needles through
your tender flesh.”
“Where …” My stomach roiled. “Where will you pierce me?”
“Oh, Ella.” His thumb brushed along the corner of my lips, and I
suppressed the urge to suck it into my mouth. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
I looked to the floor, trying to slow my rapid, anxious breathing.
“But this isn’t meant to be all pain for you. You wanted more pleasure,
didn’t you?” He let out a soft laugh. “For every piercing, I’ll grant you one
orgasm.”
Heat shot to my face as I was reminded of those maddening vibrations.
“Three piercings. Three orgasms,” I said, glancing at him for
confirmation.
“I promise.” He pressed a hand to his heart. “But—” He brought his face
to mine, his kiss fleeting as a breeze.
“But?” I echoed, craning my neck to chase his curving mouth for
another kiss.
“If you fail to come when I tell you to, if you’re even a little too early or a
little too late,” he whispered, a cruel tremor in his voice. “You’ll get nothing
but torture from me.”
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M y breath caught as the metal pierced my nipple. The searing sting
came a split second after.
I stared down at my chest. A drop of crimson welled from the tiny
wound, the long needle still sticking through my flesh, and I was lost in the
agony when a gentle hand on my cheek had my gaze snapping up.
Skrain.
He kissed me, tongue swirling in my mouth, and I whined.
“You promised me one orgasm for every piercing,” I pointed out.
“Everything in good time. I am a man of my word.” He brushed a strand
of hair behind my ear, tutting. “But I never said you’d get one right after
each piercing.”
My brows arched.
“You need to listen closer. Nobody said you’d even receive your rewards
tonight,” he added, favoring me with a devilish smirk. “I decide when you
deserve to come.”
I rattled the restraints, my show of defiance making the crowd cheer.
“You’re a brute and a sadist, Skrain,” I hissed through gritted teeth.
He took one of the matching rings with a single diamond from the tray
while Emily stood still, eyes on the audience, features professionally
impassive.
“Correct,” he said, mischief in his eyes. The outline of his rock-hard cock
pressed against his trousers, twitching. “I am a sadist. But that’s why you
like me. Because you enjoy being put in your place, because you enjoy
getting hurt and humiliated. And soon, you’ll admit it, too.”
I scowled. Even though we both knew he was right, I wouldn’t say it.
Not yet.
 But there was something so undeniably commanding about Skrain. The
natural dominance of a predator’s elegance in each swaggering step, the
unbridled strength in the flex of his muscles.
Eventually, I would submit all of myself to him—that was as certain as
my next breath.
His jaw clenched as he focused, and the toy began vibrating again. My
shoulders fell. The low rumble wouldn’t push me over the edge, but it was
enough to distract me from the discomfort.
“Better?” he asked, and I hummed my gratitude.
He grasped one of the rings, a tiny hinge on one side allowing the metal
to twist and part before his steady, nimble fingers pushed the open side into
the dull end of the needle. I groaned as he pulled the needle forward, and
with it, the piercing through my nipple. He closed the ring with a click.
Skrain leaned down to my chest, and his tongue flicked over my
sensitive, stiff peak. I flinched, my clit pulsing in the quick rhythm of my
pain, turning into an undefinable, exciting mixture.
He held eye contact while he straightened, setting a hand beneath my
other breast. A drop of my blood shone on his mouth, and he licked it off,
making me imagine his bejeweled tongue all over my body.
Especially between my legs.
He lined up the needle to pierce my other nipple. The tip scraped my
skin in a dangerous caress, and I held my breath, but he made me wait. His
free hand kneaded his hard dick through his pants.
“Damn, the flush of fear on your cheeks, those bitten, red lips …” He
moaned. “I can barely stop myself from fucking you right now.”
“Then do it,” I taunted.
He laughed. “Your goading won’t bend me to your will. I make the rules,
Ella—not you. I won’t fuck you until you’ve earned the luxury of my cock
through your suffering.”
The needle pierced me with a single, precise push, and I snapped my
mouth shut, holding in a yelp. Huffs escaped me as he inserted the second
ring. Both of my nipples were sore, burning, and the toy inside me couldn’t
mask the pain anymore.
But I had only gotten wetter, my pussy squeezing around the girthy
gem. Maybe it was my body’s desperate attempt to soothe itself, deal with
the torment, but I was on the brink. My climax was both a hair’s breadth
and an infinity away. Too near. Too far.
Skrain tipped my chin up, grinning. “I know that expression on your face
… you’re close to coming, aren’t you?”
How the fuck could he tell?
“Yes, master,” I choked out.
“Does my needy little pain slut need an orgasm?”
My tongue tripped over the words, jumbling them. “Please, master.”
“Fine. You have thirty seconds to come. If you don’t, you won’t get
another chance for the rest of the night.”
 The vibrations intensified, and my mouth fell open with a moan. My
hands balled into fists as I tensed, leaning into the sudden pleasure
cascading over me. He might have counted down, but I didn’t hear, my
senses drowned by lust. Heat resounded through me in shockwaves, my
cunt contracting until my legs shook.
“There you are,” Skrain mumbled and kissed my forehead. “I knew you’d
make your master proud.”
But his gentleness didn’t last long. His expression hardened, cruelty in
the green fire of his eyes.
“You wanted two orgasms, didn’t you?” he asked.
I gave a hesitant nod.
“This time, you get fifteen seconds.”
The vibrations kicked up another notch, and my toes curled. I was still
too sensitive, overstimulated, writhing against the cuffs holding me in place.
“Don’t think, Ella,” Skrain growled, setting the needle aside on the tray.
His mouth brushed mine, and I tasted his breath. “Just feel. Give in.”
He kissed me. Deeply. His fingers brushed up over my waist, goose
bumps racing along my skin. I wanted to obey, but the next climax seemed
an insurmountable peak. A mewl fell from my lips as he pulled the toy out of
me.
“Maybe you need a change of pace. Trust me. Let yourself fall into the
sensation. Submit,” he mumbled while one hand circled my right nipple, the
other pressing the vibrating gem directly onto my clit. He tugged tenderly
on the fresh piercing, and flashes of light crossed my vision.
It hurt, but it felt so fucking good.
This orgasm was like a hit to the head, making the room spin. Every
muscle in my body tightened, my back arching and my eyes rolling as
tingles shot through me. I panted as my pussy clenched, waves of fluid
spritzing onto the ground.
What in the Hells?
My eyes went wide as I hung limply in the restraints, trying to make
sense of what happened.
“I didn’t know you could squirt.” Skrain snickered as the vibrations
ceased. “And from that look on your face, I think this is a first for you, too.”
He turned to the crowd, gesturing to the wet floor. “Did you see that? I just
have to hurt her a little, and this filthy slut comes all over my shoes.”
Obscene shouts of agreement rose from the auditorium, and no one
could possibly have blushed brighter than I did.
Everyone was staring at me, even the guests pleasuring each other with
fingers, tongues, toys, or cocks. Until now, I’d been too scared, too turned
on, too focused on myself to notice the piles of moving, thrusting, writhing
bodies on the dance floor.
Salt and musk was heavy in the humid air, the taste of sex on my tongue
as I licked over my lips.
 The slapping sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed in my ears. Desperate
moans. High-pitched cries.
“You’re giving them such a good show,” Skrain whispered. “They want
you so much they can’t stop themselves from ravaging each other like wild
beasts. Can you imagine what would happen if I gave you to them right
now, if I pushed you into that pit of depravity?”
I glanced at him, and my pulse fluttered at the heat in his eyes.
“But they can’t have you, can they, Ella?”
I shook my head.
“Tell me that no one can have you. No one but me. Tell me that you’re
mine, my priceless treasure.”
My heart flipped in my chest. “No one else can touch me,” I choked out.
“Only you, Skrain.”
“Good girl. That’s what I like to hear.”
I was still high from my climax, disoriented, and I whimpered in
response.
“You followed my orders well, Ella, but I need you to hold still for the
last piercing. Can you do that? Can you hold still for your master?”
A scowl furrowed my brow. I wanted more. More pleasure, more
orgasms—not more pain. Exhaustion and frustration clamped my belly into
knots, but I nodded anyway. I couldn’t stand the thought of disappointing
him.
Skrain paused, sucking on his lips as he looked at the massive gem in
his hand, shining with my essence. “I want to taste you so badly, but not like
this.” He put the toy onto the tray in Emily’s hold and gave me a wink. “I’d
rather try the nectar straight from the tantalizing source. We will have to
wait for another time because I’ll need all night for that treat.”
His distraction worked. My thoughts filled with images of Skrain’s head
between my legs, my thighs holding him tight … until the touch of
something cool against my clit yanked me from my daydream. My gaze
snapped down and I froze.
I found him kneeling before me almost like I fantasized—apart from the
damn needle he was carefully pushing beneath the skin covering the tender
nub of nerves.
“Creators, what are you doing?” I snapped.
His brows rose with a grin. “What do you think?”
“A piercing?” My legs turned weak. “Down there? No!”
He barked a harsh laugh. “You have a terrible memory when it suits you.
I told you earlier. Between us, the word no doesn’t exist. Besides, I promise
the agony will be worth it.”
My heart raced, my lungs allowing only shallow breaths.
“You’ve been so brave and quiet thus far, Ella, enduring my
ministrations in stubborn silence. But you don’t have to hold back.” His
head tilted. “In fact, I’d prefer if you’d scream, and I think this will do the
trick. Now you better hold very, very still.”
 “Free me this instant,” I seethed. “I demand—”
A long cry rose in my throat as he pushed the needle upward.
I couldn’t say how much it actually hurt, but the shock of seeing silver
poking through the thin skin of my clit hood was terrifying enough.
Skrain took the double-diamond stud from the tray and opened one end.
Just like he’d done with my nipple rings, he pulled the needle and piercing
through at once, making me wince as he screwed the diamond into place.
He stepped back, letting out an audible exhale. Adoration shimmered in
his eyes, like he was appreciating an invaluable work of art. “It’s gorgeous,
Ella. It suits you so well.” He picked up the hand mirror and held it in front
of my mound, angling it upward so I could see what he had done to me.
“Look.”
My jaw dropped.
It was gorgeous.
A slim gold rod pierced my clit hood vertically. The diamond at the top
was a little smaller, the one resting directly on my tingling nub a little
larger. If I had sex while wearing this …
“Apart from looking attractive, it’s meant to increase stimulation,”
Skrain said as if reading my mind, putting the mirror back on the tray.
He bent down to the restraints holding my legs and opened them. I let
out a long sigh while he massaged my tense ankles and calves, working his
way higher. His breath slid over my pussy before he kissed my stomach,
nibbling along my ribs, over my throat and to my mouth. With a grin, he
unlaced his trousers, freeing his cock. Drops of liquid pearled from the tip,
engorged and darkened with lust.
“I still owe you an orgasm,” he said, fingers bruising my thighs as he
guided them around his hips. My fresh piercings pushed against him, and
the twinge of pain fed right into the need in my core.
I wished I could have touched him, drawn along the lines of his abs,
down to the v-cut shapes above his proud dick, but my arms were still
bound.
One hand under my ass, he wrapped the other around his shaft, lining it
up with my dripping entrance. I shuddered as he pressed against it, the
jewelry on the head teasing me.
“This time, I want to feel you squeeze me when you finish, my priceless
treasure. This time, I’ll come deep inside you, fill you with my seed. Waiting
for this moment has been like an eternity in the Hells, Kerys,” he whispered.
I let out a gasp. Those last syllables were like a blade, striking right at
my heart. “What? What did you just call me? What does that word mean?
Kerys?”
His jaw slackened before he smirked again. With a strained groan,
Skrain pushed the tip of his dick into me, and I hissed. He was massive.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he teased. “I’ll tell you, I promise. Now, I
just want to feel you.”
 My intentions of conversation vanished when he pulled me down slowly.
I moaned as his cock stretched me wide, testing the limits of my pussy.
“Oh, Creators,” I rasped. “I think you’re too big.”
Skrain smiled, shaking his head. “No, look at me. You can take me. I
know you can.”
I dug my nails into my palms until my knuckles blanched. My cunt
clenched as he filled me entirely, my inner walls trying to accommodate his
size. He stilled, running a hand through my sweat-damp hair.
“See, I told you. We’re a perfect fit,” he whispered, hitching me closer.
My clit hood piercing pressed into him, and I yelped. There it was again,
that oddly addictive cocktail of agony and desire.
“Shit,” I stuttered.
He let out a laugh, his hand drifting to the side of my neck. “This will
help alleviate the discomfort, make you feel better.”
I felt a sting. My vision blurred as if I’d finished two or three bottles of
wine on my own.
Every inch of my skin sizzled, fire shooting through me. The pain was
still there, dulled, bearable. But every good sensation was intensified.
Even though he didn’t move, just having Skrain inside me nearly had me
tipping over the edge. The rub of his tunic against my nipples was enough
to make me gasp, and that little gold-framed diamond ball pressing on my
clit was like a tiny bauble of lightning.
“What have you done to me?” I slurred, squinting to focus on his face.
“Just a few drops of my venom. Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing. You
won’t be harmed by it.”
He gripped my hips with both hands and started to move me up and
down. Pleasure rippled along my bones, flames in my blood. I barely held on
to consciousness. The cross shook as he thrust into me, and if it wasn’t
anchored to the floor, he would have pushed the entire thing over.
“How does it feel to know everyone in the room is watching me fuck
you?” he murmured. “Does it excite you to know that they’re getting off on
the dirty things I’m doing to you?”
“Fuck,” I moaned. “Yes, yes, it does.”
Skrain smirked before he conquered my mouth in a possessive kiss, his
tongue holding mine captive. I shut my eyes. White hot sparks danced
behind my lids, and like the clap of thunder, he pushed me into another
climax.
I was pure, blazing desire.
My pussy clenched around his length, squeezing and milking him as I
shattered. His teeth found my shoulder, biting down, and I felt my skin
break. My scream turned the rhythm of his hips frantic. He moaned, his
throbbing cock deep inside while he pumped his cum into me.
“I have waited so long to find you again, to claim you again,” he panted,
a smear of my blood across his lips. “And now, I’ll never let you go. We’re
going home, Kerys.”
 Again?
Kerys?
With effort, I tried to move my tongue, form words. I didn’t feel real, like
I was wading through fog. “H-home? What are you … saying?”
His palm found my neck again, and that sting returned. Panic tightened
my chest, but I couldn’t fight Skrain’s poison.
I went limp, couldn’t move.
Darkness encroached on my vision. The last thing I saw was Skrain,
smiling at me.
“Don’t be afraid, my beloved,” he said, and though he was right in front
of me, holding me, he sounded as if he stood on the other side of the hall.
“We’re together now. You only need me, no one else. Everything will be
alright.”
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T
he slack-chained shackles around Kerys’s wrists and ankles rattled as
she moved in her sleep, writhing on the cherry-red silk sheets. Even
when she turned away, the grand mirror on the ceiling right above the
mattress showed me every flutter of her lashes, every twitch of her nose.
I kissed the birthmark on the nape of her neck before I took a drag from
my cigarette and sat on a chair next to the bed. Leaning forward, I rested
my elbows on my knees, hands steepling. A frown crossed my brow.
Taking Aculeus up on his portal offer hadn’t been pleasant. I was sure
the decision would come back to bite me in the ass—despite his
reassurances that this favor was free. But when I held my wife in my arms
last night, unconscious and helpless, I knew two things:
One, I’d run out of gentle ideas to make her remember.
Two, I had to take her home.
And Gods, for all the trouble the demon might give me, it was worth it.
For one hundred years, this house had been a pretty husk. A replica,
built in a new location, but made to look like our home, exactly as it stood
before the flames reduced it to ashes.
We had that in common, this mansion and I.
Without Kerys, we were both empty shells. Reborn from the embers, yet
a lifeless shadow of our former selves, existing for the sake of it. No
purpose, nothing to fill the void inside.
But now that she was here, it was as if she was never gone. As if that
fateful night was nothing but a nightmare.
Sun shone through the round window and the long, narrow glass inlays
in the balcony doors, the red crystal chandelier above reflecting the light.
Spots of crimson flickered over the dark parquet and along the orange
walls, dancing along the colorful rugs. Even the padded shackles affixed to
the decorative metal headboard of the bed shimmered.
Everything was quiet, her calm breaths the only sound.
It was just another morning in paradise, as if nothing had ever
happened.
As if my universe hadn’t shattered into a million tiny pieces when she
died. As if I hadn’t cut my palms in a thousand different places forcing the
shards of myself into the jagged shape of a man. As if I hadn’t been held
together by spite and hatred and rage and blood.
Until last night.
The sex had been fucking phenomenal, but it wasn’t about the physical
pleasure she brought me.
I exhaled a cloud of smoke.
Kerys put me back together. Seamlessly, she fit the pieces of my broken
soul into each other in a way I never could. Not before her, and not after
her.
As I watched her sleep like I had so often when she was still my wife, my
pounding heart couldn’t tell the difference between the past and the
present.
For the first time since I started my frenzied quest to find her, a sudden,
new thought pressed into my mind.
The demon’s powers had kept me as youthful as I was a century ago,
and Kerys herself was barely older than when we first met. Couldn’t we just
continue where we left off? Try to forget all the misery and be happy
together?
My tail tensed as I froze.
Did it really matter if she regained her memories? Was it worth a
dangerous ritual if we had a shot at a good life, a fresh start?
Couldn’t we make new memories?
I extinguished my half-smoked cigarette in a glass ashtray on the
nightstand and got up to sit by her side on the bouncy mattress. She
mumbled something unintelligible as I brushed the hair out of her face,
trailing my fingers along her cheek to her lips. Her breath flitted over my
face as I kissed the tip of her nose.
I made everything perfect for her return. Everything was just how she
liked it, how it was before she left.
The exquisite, soft cotton of her royal-blue nightgown. Dark red curtains
with golden embroidery. I had filled one half of the wardrobe across the
chamber with new clothes for her.
Beside the closet stood a dresser, her favorite rose incense burning in a
dish atop it, right next to Lara’s preserved heart, displayed on a pronged,
golden stand beneath a glass dome. The copy of the music box was there,
too, just in case she wanted to listen to the melody.
It was one of two things I instructed Emily to collect from the brothel in
Zeridia before we went through the portal. The other were her romance
books, now neatly arranged on a small shelf by the side of the bed. I’d
brought it up from the living room and added a few new tomes. Poetry and
love stories, mostly in Elvish, a few works in Xar’vathi.
If she wanted me to, I would have loved to read them to her, translate
them for her or even teach her my native tongue.
It was already late afternoon. The effect of my poison was going to wear
off soon, and Kerys would wake up. Surely, after all my careful
preparations, she’d love being home again.
And she would love me again. She would.
My jaw clenched.
She had to, and if she didn’t love me, I would fucking make her.
I bent down to kiss her again, when her eyes snapped open. She shot
upright, and a dull pain echoed in my forehead as it collided with hers.
“Ow,” she whined, dropping onto her back, face scrunching. The loose
chains connecting the restraints to the bed clinked as she rubbed across the
red spot forming above her brow.
I stifled a snicker. “Sorry if I scared you. Are you feeling okay?”
“Yes, I’m quite …”
She trailed off, and her eyes widened again, slower. They shifted
upward, sideways as she raised her arms, noticing the shackles, and her
breath caught in that sexy way it always did when she was afraid. My cock
reacted immediately, but I ignored the budding erection.
Keryssa’s scream rattled the windowpanes. She kicked at me as I
grabbed her by the shoulders, my tail flinging across her thighs, holding her
down on the bed.
“Stop! You’re safe. Look at me, Kerys!” I growled.
“Why are you calling me that?” She thrashed, her frantic gaze flicking
around the room. “Where am I? Why am I in chains?”
My heart squeezed. This was the reaction I feared the most, the reason
I’d bound her in the first place.
“Will you stop and listen to me?” I urged, shaking her gently. “I don’t
want to put you to sleep again, but I will if you don’t calm the fuck down!”
Finally, she looked at me, lips trembling, cheeks reddened. She nodded.
“Fine. I-I’m calm.”
I frowned, swallowing the lump in my throat. Her chest was heaving, but
she’d stopped fighting me, so I let go, allowing her to sit up. I reached for
the shackle around her right wrist, running a finger along the leather
padding.
“If I open these, do you promise to keep your cool?” I asked, quirking a
brow at her.
She glanced to the duvet, picking at the gold embroidered fabric, her
nose wiggling. “Yes.”
“Don’t lie. I know you’re lying. I can tell from that adorable thing your
nose does.”
Her expression froze and she huffed.
 “You will not see guards inside the house because I despise making my
home feel like a military base, but there are armed men stationed around
the perimeter of the property. They live in a separate outpost by the front
entrance. Plus, we’re in the middle of the Xar’vathi desert, quite a long ride
from the capital. Without provisions and travel gear, you have nowhere to
run, even if you make it out of this room and manage to steal a horse from
my stable. Got it?”
“Xar’vath? We’re in Xar’vath?” She paused, regarding me with a squinty
glance. “How long have I been unconscious?”
My shoulders rose in a shrug. “Half a day, more or less. I brought you
here right after the party.”
She scoffed. “You’re trying to tell me we traveled from Zeridia to
Xar’vath in a few hours?”
“Portal magic,” I said, my voice clipped at the thought of Aculeus’s
involvement.
“Pff, sure, if you say so.” She snorted a sarcastic laugh. “But I got the
message. I’ll keep it together. You can unbind me.”
This time, she was telling the truth.
I fished the key from my pocket and unlocked the restraints, the metal
rattling as they fell. My tail swayed as I grinned. “You know, we used to
have a lot of fun with chains like these.”
Kerys wasn’t in the mood for jokes, the corners of her mouth nearly
pulling down to her chin. She rubbed her freed wrists and ankles, glaring
daggers at me. “You said you’d explain. Then explain before I strangle you
with my bare hands.”
My dick twitched. I’d like to see you try, I wanted to say, but I knew it
would only anger her further.
“It’s pretty simple. After you passed out last night, I took you back to
Xar’vath with me. I bathed and clothed you and put you to bed.”
“Kidnapping me is fucking out of line!” she shot back. “But that’s not
what I want to know. Why are you using that word … Kerys?”
“This part isn’t as simple. It will sound really crazy, I know it will, but
you must believe me—” I couldn’t speak. My gut turned into a bottomless
pit, my hammering heart dropping into its pitch-black depth.
How long had I waited to say these words to her … and how ironic I
should hesitate now?
“This is your home,” I brought out, gesturing with hands and tail. “And
your real name is Keryssa. Kerys for short.”
“You’re right, that does sound crazy! You are absolutely insane!” She
raised her hands just to drop them into her lap. “My name is Ellaryth, and
I’m a candlemaker’s daughter. Born and raised in Zeridia.”
“Well, the Zeridia part is right, at least,” I said, wincing. “But the rest
…”
“You’re not making any sense!” she shouted, fury contorting her
features, but tears shimmered in her eyes.
 She couldn’t hide her real emotions from me.
It was killing me to see her like this, confused and distraught. I liked
when she was a little afraid of me while we fucked, when she fought back a
bit when I took her—but I knew she liked that, too.
This was different. Though I wanted to embrace and comfort her, I was
petrified.
I sighed. “Not sure how to sugarcoat it or package this next bit into a
nice euphemism.”
“Then fucking say it already,” she yelled, voice cracking. “Say it! Say it!”
“Over a century ago, you were murdered.”
She blanched. Her face went slack, eyes glossing over. I laid a hand on
her cheek, and she flinched, sluggish pupils drifting to me.
“Can you hear me?”
She gave a weak nod. “I’m dead.”
“Not exactly. Not anymore. Do you remember the demon I told you
about, the one who saved me?”
Another nod.
“Part of my deal with him was to bring your soul back from the afterlife.
Your original body is dead, but the demon preserved your spirit.”
Another curt nod.
“I’ve been searching for you for a very long time, Kerys, waiting for your
soul to anchor itself in another physical vessel.”
She panted, tongue flicking over her dry lips. “You’re telling me I’m not
Ella but some other woman … reborn?”
I dipped my chin in agreement. “You are. I’m certain. You talk and move
like her, enjoy the same things as her. How do you think I knew your
favorite drink? Your favorite sweets? You even look exactly like her. I don’t
know how it’s possible, how this rebirth works, but I’ll prove to you that I’m
speaking the truth. Here, I’ll show you.”
I reached beneath my tunic and pulled out the locket, opening it, holding
it out to her.
She pressed a fist to her mouth, staring. “Hm. I mean she-she looks like
me. The p-painting is old, a little faded. And that lock of hair, even through
the amber it seems to be close to my color and-and—”
Moments of tense stillness passed. Her hands shot forward, shaking as
they twisted into my shirt, and she pulled me in close, nose to nose.
“Let’s say I believe you, just theoretically,” she whispered. “Why you?
Why have you been searching for me? What do you have to-to do with any of
this, Skrain?”
“I—” My throat closed up again.
Shit. Why was this so hard? Why was my fucking pulse in my ears,
raging like a drum?
“Because …” I rasped, barely squeezing my voice out. “I’m your
husband.”
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I
slumped onto the floor, pressing my hot cheek against the cool, blue
mosaic tiles. Grimacing, I smacked my lips, the sourness of bile clinging
to my tongue.
The door slid open, and Skrain walked from the master bedroom into the
bathroom, bowing his head to fit underneath the doorframe. His gaze
darted from me to the floor, tail flicking nervously at his heels.
“You ran out so suddenly, I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to come in and
be with you or if you hate me now and don’t want to see me or—” He
frowned, eyes meeting mine. “No. I’m an idiot. I should have followed you.
Comforted you. Held your hair. I’m sorry.”
His sleek ponytail fell over his shoulder as he grabbed beneath my arms
and pulled me up, sitting me down on the lowest step leading to a massive,
round bath atop a pedestal. He pressed into a small indentation on the side
of the toilet, the sound of rushing water filling the silence.
If the party, the dress, and the lavish furnishings of the bedroom hadn’t
been a dead giveaway for his wealth, the running water would have done it.
Even in Zeridia, only high-ranking nobles and the richest of the rich enjoyed
more than buckets and basins brought to their chambers.
“I didn’t think I was so repulsive that the mere mention of me as your
husband would make you throw up.” Skrain gave me a lopsided smirk, and
my heart did a ridiculous pitter-patter dance. “Last night you weren’t quite
as disgusted with me.”
I sighed at myself.
He had poisoned and kidnapped me, tied me to the damned bed. If only I
could have found a spark of anger somewhere inside me instead of this mad,
inexplicable infatuation.
 “Not the time to fish for compliments,” I said, running a hand through
my messy hair. “Besides, I wonder how you’d react if you were told you died
and came back as someone else reborn instead of who you thought you
were.”
His shoulders slumped. “I know it’s a lot. But I ran out of gentle
options.”
“You mean the celebration, the things you said—those were subtle
attempts to make me recall?”
“That, too. I hoped nudges would do the trick. Roses in your favorite
color. The nougat you loved so much you got all grumpy when you went a
week without it here in Xar’vath. A copy of the music box I gave you as a
wedding gift.”
Wedding.
The word knocked the breath from me. If he told the truth, it made
sense why I recognized the melody, why it stirred bittersweet nostalgia
within me. I fought to regain my composure when I realized what he’d just
admitted.
“You are my stalker?” I croaked. “You climbed up to the second floor to
sniff around my chamber and leave gifts?”
Skrain sighed, grasping the back of his neck. He turned away from me
to take a washcloth from a tall cabinet by the door, wetting it under the
marble sink’s golden tap. His tail twitched, the jewelry clinking on the tiles.
“Guilty as charged, my priceless treasure. I used my vines to get up
there. You were right about being followed, too. It was me, watching you
from the rooftops … and I watched you while you slept.”
My thoughts whirled. So I hadn’t imagined it all.
“But I’ve been stalked for-for weeks!”
“I’ve kept tabs on you since Emily brought me the catalog of courtesans
from the Emporium. I recognized you immediately.”
“Creators, the brothel,” I squeaked, my brain catching up with reality.
“Madam Iletha will be so mad I just disappeared and—”
“No, she won’t. I paid off your debt.” Without looking at me, he raised a
hand, nonchalantly waving it over his shoulder. “And before you ask, yes, it
was me making your clients disappear. I killed them, to be exact. Every
single one of them.” His spine went rigid, tension rippling across his
muscular back. “I couldn’t stand anyone else touching you. They’re not
worthy of you.”
Ice and lava fought behind my ribs.
Manic laughter welled in my throat, and once I started, I couldn’t stop.
Doubling over, I held my queasy stomach, tears streaming down my
cheeks. I laughed and laughed and lau—Skrain tipped my chin up, and the
giggles died on my tongue. I stared at him, mouth agape.
He was every bit as arresting by day as he had been by night. More so.
There was a subtle, dark green shimmer to his hair, and his eyes reflected
the sunshine like jewels, revealing hues of gold and specks of hazel.
 Ticklish warmth coiled through me as he ran the cold, damp cloth over
my forehead and my cheeks, wiping at the corners of my lips.
This man, this handsome, dangerous man, was supposed to be my
husband?
Did that mean every sweet nothing, every promise, how much he loved
me … it was all … true?
“How is the bite? How are the piercings feeling?” Skrain asked, tone low
as if not to startle me. “Any pain? Swelling?”
I jolted. The bite! The piercings!
After he’d dumped all that crazy information on me, it was no wonder I’d
forgotten about my injuries. Especially since they didn’t hurt anymore.
I glanced at my shoulder. A tinge of disappointment speared through my
middle when I saw hale skin beneath the nightgown’s broad strap, no teeth
marks.
I tugged on my collar, peeking downward, finding two golden rings with
diamonds adorning my nipples. A nervous tingle in my chest, I laid a
fumbling hand on my groin. An echo of pleasure reverberated through me
when my probing fingers found a stud piercing through the skin above my
clit, the larger, lower gem pressing right atop it.
Skrain’s chuckle had my eyes snapping up to him. “Feels nice, doesn’t
it?” he asked.
My hand jerked from my body like it was made of fire. “I suppose. At
least the pain is gone.”
“That’s another reason I put you to sleep for a while,” he said as his
hand closed around my upper arm and he guided me to stand, walking me
to the sink. “My body can produce a few different poisons, some to paralyze,
some to please, others to kill. But the one I injected you with promotes
healing, alongside deep slumber.”
Skrain opened the cabinet again, taking out a pretty blue glass before
pouring a small heap of green powder from an unlabeled bottle into it. As he
mixed it with water from the tap, a minty citrus scent drifted from the
concoction.
He handed the liquid to me. “You can bathe and brush your teeth soon,
but I recommend you rinse your mouth with this for now. Gets rid of the
unpleasant taste.”
I inclined my head and did as he suggested, gargling awkwardly and
spitting out into the sink. When I was done, only the taste of lemon
remained on my tongue.
“Come, I want to show you something.” He took the empty cup from me
and put it on the edge of the sink. “It used to be one of your favorite spots in
the house.”
Skrain led me back to the bedroom, and my eyes caught on my would-be
assassin’s heart, sitting underneath a glass dome on the chest of drawers. It
was pretty, cleaned up and coated with a shiny layer of something, maybe
resin.
 Blood rushed to my face as I thought of a special rose another courtesan
at the brothel received from a wealthy mage once. It looked a lot like this,
preserved under glass, glossy petals. The man assured her it would never
wilt, that it was a symbol of his love for her—and unlike his affections, the
flower had kept the promise. Last time I saw her room, she still had it on
her vanity, unchanged.
My ribs constricted. Did Skrain’s gift mean the same? And would he
keep his promise or was his devotion just as fickle as the mage’s?
Holding me softly around my waist, he steered me toward wooden
double doors with glass inlays. He opened them, and acrid heat hit my face.
As I stepped onto the balcony, earthy desert scents and the sweet
perfume of flowers filled my nose. I rubbed my eyes, couldn’t believe my
sight, but the view didn’t change.
Xar’vath. I really was in Xar’vath, and Creators, it was even more
magnificent than I ever imagined.
The sun burned onto dunes like mighty waves, spreading toward the
horizon like an endless sea of sand. Thick, tall stone walls with metal spikes
atop surrounded the property, and inside them grew a lush oasis, on one
side embraced by the C-shape of the mansion.
Leaning over the railing, I marveled at a huge mosaic right beneath the
balcony, stretching across a large terrace. It showed lovers against the
backdrop of a starlit sky, their bodies entwined as if dancing, a full moon
the only witness to their affection.
A rectangular pool of sparkling blue water ran through the middle of the
garden, a mellow, miniature waterfall at each end. White gravel pathways
beckoned for a leisurely stroll amid blossoming shrubs and exotic flowers,
trimmed grass perfect for a picnic beneath palms and fruit-bearing trees.
My brows rose as I turned to Skrain. “This slice of paradise is all yours?”
He smiled and took my hands into his. “Ours.”
My chest pinched.
As much as I thought he’d lost his mind, I couldn’t entirely convince
myself that there was no truth to the deranged explanation he’d given. An
unrelenting voice in the back of my head couldn’t stop asking the most
meaningful question of my entire existence.
What if he’s right?
Skrain hitched me hard against his broad chest, one hand on my waist,
the other caressing over my head. His tail brushed along my calves, and the
weight of the world, the weight of this new life I’d been tossed into, melted
from my shoulders.
For the first time since I’d awoken, I felt like I could just … breathe. Just
be.
“If you’re being honest, wouldn’t I remember my own spouse?” I
mumbled into his tunic in between taking deep whiffs of his comforting
scent.
 “But you do remember me. Not as clearly as I would like, but in a way,
you obviously know me.” He let out a soft laugh. “Don’t you wonder why
you’re feeling safe in my arms? Haven’t you asked yourself why you are so
drawn to me? Why you were so eager to surrender total control over your
body to me, a stranger? Even now, you’re seeking out the reassurance of my
embrace.”
I wound my hands into the back of his shirt, craning my neck to look up
at him. “How could you tell?”
“Because I know you better than anyone else, Keryssa.”
That name, that gentleness in his tone when he said it, that spark of
affection in his gaze.
Keryssa.
The letters echoed behind my ribs, catching on the soft edges of my
heart I’d tried to harden into metal after my father passed away.
I liked that name. And I liked … Skrain.
His mouth smashed into mine, the feeling of the ring in his bottom lip
coaxing a moan from me. His digits on my waist slid to my rear, squeezing.
Our tongues swirled, the little ball in his clicking against my teeth, and fire
coiled in my belly as he forced his thigh between my legs.
The pressure on the piercing above my clit was overwhelming, intense,
and I couldn’t get enough, instantly shivering with heat. His cock stirred,
hardening against me while I ran my fingers along his back.
With a growl, Skrain shifted. His large hands closed around my midriff,
lifting me, and suddenly I found myself sitting on the railing. He spread my
legs, pushing up my nightgown as he stepped between them. Laughing
against my mouth, he tipped my body backward, just a little, and I yelped,
breaking the kiss.
I giggled. “First you abduct me, and now you’re trying to kill me!”
“Oh, my priceless treasure, if I wanted to kill you, I would know a
thousand more arousing ways to do it than pushing you off the balcony.” He
bit softly along my neck, and I whined as he rolled his hips, his erection
rubbing against me. “Ways that would have you coming on my cock until
your last fucking breath. My name, screamed in delirious ecstasy, would be
the last damn thing you’d say.”
I’d never craved death before, but he made it sound so sweet that for a
second, I believed being undone by his hands would be the greatest
pleasure I’d ever feel.
Skrain licked downward to my breasts, sucking on my pierced nipples
through the fabric, and my thoughts blanked. Almost.
“Wait, wait, one moment!” I crowed.
He paused, straightening, an unspoken question in his gaze. And I was
about to answer it with a stupid, reckless question of my own.
“I’m not saying I believe you, Skrain, but if I did, if I wanted to
remember my previous life … How could I get my memories back?”
 “So you want to remember?” he burst out, tail lashing, hitting the railing
with a thud.
If my insides didn’t feel like they were wrenched into a ball of knots, I
would have laughed. He didn’t seem the type for cute enthusiasm, but
perhaps I had judged him too fast.
Skrain controlled himself quickly, putting on a scholarly, focused
expression.
“I’ve done a lot of research over the years,” he said and sighed. “There
are no official reference cases for your kind of memory loss, but with
general magical amnesia, the chance of a successful recovery decreases the
longer the afflicted is immersed in their new life. That’s also why I brought
you here, why I couldn’t wait any longer.”
I already regretted my first question, but I asked another, even as my
chest filled with a slew of dizzying emotions I couldn’t define. “What do we
have to do?”
“We have one option left, but I had hoped the sex and being here would
be the last push you needed to remember on your own.” His head tilted as
he blew out a despondent breath. “You must be hungry. Why don’t we
discuss this over some food? I had the cook prepare all your favorite dishes
while you slept.”
I flushed as my stomach rumbled. He’d made such a special effort to
welcome me, and I hadn’t had a proper meal since a meager lunch at the
brothel yesterday. How could I say no?
A smile curved my lips as I rested a hand on his arm. “Thank you. That
sounds perfect.”
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A s we stepped out into the wide hallway, Kerys’s eyes shone with
childlike wonder.
Hair whipped her face, heels clacking as she sprinted ahead, her floaty
azure gown swishing around her calves. She paused at each of the large
abstract paintings, hung up in neat intervals, illuminated by strategically
placed sconces and skylights in the flat roof.
“Creators, these are beautiful!” she exclaimed over her shoulder, her
smile striking me like a bolt of lightning to the heart, and I held back the
cheesy compliment forcing itself onto my tongue.
Not as beautiful as you.
I snickered, clasping my hands behind my back, and strolled after her,
tail swaying. When I least expected it, when I just allowed myself to be
happy, my grin faltered. For a second, I sensed the echo of that emptiness
in my chest, that void she’d left behind when she died.
I bit the inside of my lip, focusing on the taste of acrid blood to remind
myself that I wasn’t dreaming, that I wasn’t just imagining her running
through the corridors of our house.
Kerys waited in front of a particularly bright piece of artwork with swirls
of orange, red, and magenta.
“I don’t really like abstract art much.” She cocked her head. “But all of
these are brilliant! I want to reach inside the colors and fall into the frame,
explore mysterious realms hidden in the canvas.” She stretched a trembling
hand toward the painting, shying away at the last moment, eyes sliding to
me.
“You’re incredibly talented, Skrain.”
My jaw dropped. At my back, my tail was swishing wildly, my piercings
tinkling like Gods damned cat bells.
 Her brows knitted as she searched my face. “Did I … say something
wrong?”
Wrapping an arm around her waist, I tugged her close, and she cuddled
into my body, leaning her temple against me. I kissed the top of her hair,
still damp from her bath.
“Not at all. Quite the opposite,” I said.
“Then why the strange reaction?”
I squeezed her, my pulse going crazy. “I don’t sign my pieces. And I
didn’t tell you that I was the artist.”
“I remembered?” Her gaze narrowed before springing open again. “I
remembered! How else could I have known!”
She squirmed out of my hold, peering up at me, a mixture of fear and
tentative joy playing on her face. Her mouth opened and closed again, no
words coming out. Not even a sound.
“Do you believe me now, Kerys?”
She shook her head, pouting. Just yesterday her denial would have hurt
me, but this was a promising start, and for a woman who claimed she didn’t
believe me, she sure was enthusiastic.
Maybe all she needed was a little more time instead of that damned
ritual.
Maybe she didn’t need to remember everything if she was so keen to
learn about her former self, about us.
She took my hand, first pulling me out of my reverie, then down the
swooping stone stairs. We reached the foyer, and she glanced at sheer, red
curtains billowing in a warm breeze flowing through open windows. Her
stride slowed as she studied yellow-flowering plants in painted terracotta
pots, decorating a sitting area with a round carpet and thick, tasseled
cushions arranged around a low table.
I squinted, head tilting. Her curiosity was contagious. It let me see our
home in a new light, rediscovering it alongside her.
When she took a deep breath, I did, too. I inhaled the sharp scent of
herbal soap streaming from the freshly cleaned, beige stone tiles and the
smell of spiced meat wafting from the kitchen to the left.
When she listened closely, so did I. I took in the banging of pots and
pans, the screeching of a vulture, and the neighing of horses in the stable
outside. The chatter and laughter of maids elsewhere in the manor, the
creaking of the guards’ armor on the other side of the front door.
I followed her gaze to the open archway leading to the sitting room.
Suddenly, the plush sofas and heavy, colorful fabrics with golden thread
patterns seemed brand new to me. The intricately carved wooden
furnishings with their mother-of-pearl inlays held my attention longer than
they had in decades, shining with renewed beauty.
“Nothing, Skrain. Absolutely nothing,” she mumbled, sneering. “I
thought if I looked around, really focused …”
“What do you mean, my priceless treasure?”
 Her shoulders caved. “I’m not remembering anything else.”
Heaviness compressed my ribs. The last thing I wanted was to turn her
coming home into a sad occasion or make her feel guilty for not recalling.
I framed her cheeks with my hands and brushed a soft kiss onto her lips.
“Don’t be upset. Of course, I wish you’d remember, but don’t feel bad if it
doesn’t all come back to you immediately. I’ve waited for you for over a
century, Kerys, and I can wait as long as it takes.”
A muscle in her jaw twitched against my palm as she gritted her teeth.
“That’s part of it. For some absurd reason, I don’t want to disappoint you.
When I remember something, you get that look on your face—”
“That look?”
She stood on her tiptoes and reached up, a single finger sliding along
the corner of my mouth, her touch like sparks of fire. I bent down a little,
lured by her gentleness.
“First, you smile,” she whispered, and I couldn’t help grinning. “Then
your tail … it—” She paused, biting her lip. “It wags.”
Heat swept across my features as I coughed. “It, uh, it only does that for
you, just so we’re clear.”
She snickered, dusting over my right lid, and a shiver ran up my spine.
“Then your eyes light up,” she whispered.
She skimmed higher, above my brows, drawing a line between them. My
breath was coming in huffs, my pulse in my throat. Such innocent touches,
and yet my heart was ready to burst from my chest to sacrifice itself to her.
“And finally …” she said, tone as tender as the finest silk. “Finally, your
brows lift into those cute, excited arches.”
I swallowed stiffly. Her caress was like a skittish bird, and I didn’t want
it to stop. Slowly, her hand traveled to my horns, and I bent a bit further so
she could grasp one.
“When you look like that, I just …” She chewed on her cheek, meeting
my gaze. “It’s stupid, and I can’t explain it, but when I see you like that,
butterflies fill my stomach. It makes me happier than I ever have been. I
must know if it’s true or if these feelings are make-believe, Skrain. I must
know. At any cost.”
Though hope and fear fought inside me, I smiled. I couldn’t let my worry
show.
“Then I’ll do everything in my power to help you. For both our sakes,” I
said with confidence.
Her agreement, her own wish to find out the truth would make the ritual
easier, but it was still not without danger. And that voice of doubt in the
back of my mind had grown ever louder since she woke, wondering if it was
worth the risk, asking the same pointed questions over and over.
If she would love me as she did before, did her memories matter?
But what if she didn’t? What if this Kerys decided I wasn’t the one?
What if she left?
My thoughts swirled in a chaotic vortex of anxiety.
 I couldn’t lose her again. I wouldn’t survive it. If she left, I would rather
kill us both than let another have her.
We stood, gazing into each other’s eyes, when the door to the kitchen
opened and Emily stepped out. I shot upright, smoothing over my tunic
before I casually slung an arm around Kerys’s tensing shoulders.
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Emily said, smiling.
Another wave of fire blazed over my features. Since when did I blush?
And what, in the Gods’ names, did I have to be embarrassed about? Being
affectionate with my own damn wife?
“You’re not interrupting anything. I was just showing the new lady of the
house her home. From now on, you are to follow her orders with the same
respect and urgency you follow mine. And instead of the name she used as a
comfort woman, you will address her by her true name, Keryssa,” I said
before tipping Kerys’s chin up.
Her eyes were wide as I kissed her with tongue. Going by the pink on
her cheeks, she seemed infected by the same embarrassment as I, but I had
to set an example here.
A flicker of surprise crossed Emily’s features, but her smile returned
almost in an instant.
I had told none of the staff about my past, not even her. Though Emily
had won my trust over the years, even used her blood magic to help create
the toy I used last night, what went on between Kerys and I was my
business. And I liked Emily especially because she didn’t ask questions …
usually.
All everyone needed to know was that Kerys was mine. I was hers. And
anyone in this damn world could see.
Emily nodded at the silver tray in her hands, laden with fruit salad in a
crystal bowl, two fine glasses, and a dewy carafe of sparkling white wine.
“The preparations for dinner in the garden are nearly complete. I was just
about to take the last refreshments out there. If you wish, you may follow
me.”
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K
erys’s bubbly laughter echoed across the terrace. “Me? Helping to
incite a prison revolt? And you’re telling me I killed people?” Her
speech slurred, and she shook her head before taking a deep gulp
from her glass. “I still don’t believe it. No way!”
I refilled her drink with the last of the wine from the carafe and placed it
next to two empty ones on a food cart beside the table.
“What reason would I have to lie?” I teased.
A shrug lifted her shoulders and she reached across the table, drawing
idle patterns on the back of my hand. She smirked, eyes alight with tipsy
courage. “Then tell me my favorite part again.”
I chuckled at her mischievous expression. Night had broken long ago,
metal filigree lanterns on the patio and in the garden throwing shadow
patterns along the ground, their golden glow attracting moths with silken
wings.
And in just these last few hours, Kerys had changed.
At the start of our dinner, she’d told me about her past in this life.
She was born in a tiny village outside of Hedonfel. The daughter of a
humble candlemaker, her childhood was uneventful until her mother died
from illness, and her father sought comfort at the bottom of any bottle and
distraction in perpetually bad hands of cards. She explained how he lost his
business and took loans from the wrong people to feed his gambling habit.
Pain speared through my heart when she said she’d only heard about his
debt after he’d died in a drunken alley brawl, and his debtors broke into
their cottage in the middle of the night. They took everything of value. As a
parting gift, they threatened they’d be back in two weeks to collect the rest
of what they were owed—and if she wasn’t able to pay in coin, she’d do so
with her blood.
 In turn, I had told her about myself. Decades of loneliness and grief had
a way of scattering memories like ashes in the wind, but I bared whatever I
could recall.
That my mother raised me and my sisters by herself, but I was the one
who provided for us. Her brows rose when I admitted to cutting off my
family when I became a killer for hire, but she didn’t shy away, no fear in
her eyes. She gave an understanding smile while I explained that I didn’t
want them to be in harm’s way but kept sending them money for as long as
they lived.
I spoke of the botched assassination that put me into prison, reminiscing
about the mines.
And, of course, I recalled our fated, first meeting.
I told her about her husband, He’zath. She was appalled when I said
that it had been a loveless marriage of convenience, how her father had sold
her to the highest bidder to save their noble house from falling into arrears
and disgrace.
I omitted He’zath’s violent tendencies.
I’d been there for her when she worked through her trauma the first
time, when her proud, strong façade cracked, and she sobbed in my arms at
night. If she remembered, I would have supported her again, but I saw no
point in forcing her to relive that grief.
Still, I couldn’t leave out how I’d stolen her from him, proudly
proclaiming how willingly she fell into my embrace. Then I told her about
the secret notes, the schemes, the uprising.
She’d asked about our wedding, too, but I saved that story for another
time.
Both of us avoided the topic of her death. Whenever conversation leaned
toward it, seconds of tense silence stretched, finally broken by another
anecdote.
We both weren’t ready to talk about it yet.
With every passing minute of us conversing and eating and drinking, she
behaved more like my Kerys. Talked more like my Kerys.
The fierce stubbornness returned to her gaze, confidence in the set of
her shoulders.
It was like watching an exotic flower bloom. Closed into a tight bud,
protecting what lay inside, she was already marvelous. And now, her petals
were oh-so-slowly opening, revealing even greater loveliness inside.
Kerys nudged my leg with her heel, wrenching me from my daydream.
“Skrain, tell me!”
I poked her ankle with my tail, and she squirmed. “Making demands
again, hmm?” I yanked my hand from beneath hers. Before she could react,
I had her wrist in a tight grip, and her brows arched. “It seems you still
didn’t learn your lesson last night, my priceless treasure.”
 I jumped up, smirking, and pulled her to her feet. She stumbled, eyes
like saucers, giggling as she bumped against the table, empty dishes
rattling.
“I think you need a walk before bed. We have a long day ahead of us
tomorrow,” I said, intertwining our fingers. “But if you’re a good girl, I
promise I’ll tell you one more time tonight. The short version.”
Her grin widened. “Deal!”

We walked along the pathways, gravel crunching beneath our feet. The
night air was cool and refreshing, and I couldn’t stop thinking how fortunate
I was. Stars glittering above, a full belly, and most importantly, the woman I
loved on my arm.
“Once we’re done with the ritual tomorrow, I’ll tell you all those stories
from my perspective,” she drawled.
“I would love to hear them.”
Her eyes darted along the flowering shrubs to our left, then the pond to
our right. “And you’re sure it’ll work? My magic will return, too?”
My stomach flipped. No, I wasn’t sure.
In fact, I was clueless, only had Dr. Mavix’s instructions to go by. Such
complex rituals were usually outside of my expertise, but the spell
demanded someone from her past to act as a conduit, and I wouldn’t have
trusted a stranger with her wellbeing, anyway.
Though doubt gnawed at my mind, Kerys’s idea to go through with the
memory retrieval had grown into bull-headed determination. I knew from
experience that persuading her to drop it would only make her insist
harder. When I even attempted to steer her away from it earlier, she had
doubled down, stomping a proverbial foot.
I’d given her few details, only mentioning the ritual would involve
invoking a trance in a location with ties to strong emotions and powerful
memories. It was easier that way. Worrying her made failure more likely
and I needed her mind pliable, not tense with terror.
“Of course it will work,” I lied with a smile. “But for now, I’ll be the
storyteller. So, the night of the coup, you snuck into the mining camp, using
a devious excuse—”
“I told the guards I had forgotten some of my enchanting tools that day,
right?” she interrupted, tripping over her feet, and I caught her by the arm.
“Because I was some kind of amazing gem enchantress, right? And they
trusted me because I was the mine owner’s wife, right?”
I snickered. “Exactly. And in your bag, you brought those tiny clusters of
purple gems, one for each prisoner. They looked like glowing miniature
grapes. I couldn’t tell you how they worked, you didn’t explain, and I didn’t
even have magic back then. But you told us carrying them would act like a
shield, lend us strength for a while, harden our skin, and let us endure
greater pain.”
Kerys stopped to pluck a feathery, white bloom from a bush, thrusting it
into the air like a sword. “And it worked!”
“It did. We took up our pickaxes and stormed the guard post. Even with
their whips and spells, the guards couldn’t fight us all off.” I sighed. “I’ll
never forget that night. How good it felt to sink hard metal into their soft
flesh, hear the crack of their bones as they shattered.”
She bit her lip, giving me a long, sideways glance as we walked through
a patch of fruit trees. “You enjoyed killing them.”
A hum rumbled in my throat. “Very much. And so did you.”
“I-I did?”
My cock sprung to life at the memory of the massacre and the wild,
voracious look in her eyes. “I remember all that blood got you quite …
excited.”
I flicked my tail up, slithering between her legs. She froze, gasping and
dropping the flower as the tip dragged along her slit. I teased the stud
above her clit before drawing lower, the thin, dampening fabric of her
panties the only thing stopping me from sliding inside her. My mouth found
her neck, and her moan made my dick throb.
“But you enjoyed killing him the most, Kerys.”
“My … previous husband. Uh, He’zath, you said? I can’t remember, but
I-I don’t think I liked him. When my mind drifts to him, my chest gets tight. I
don’t think he treated me very well.”
In a bid to distract her from the suffering he caused her, I set a hand on
her chest, kneading her breast. Instead, I wanted her to remember how
powerful she felt when she ended him, how much she loved her revenge. My
fingers found the ring in her hard nipple, tugging softly, and she bucked her
hips against my tail.
“We both hated He’zath, but you reveled in his demise. What an
arrogant mistake he and his brother made, building their manor to overlook
the mines. We dispatched his personal guards, too, overwhelming them with
the sheer number of prisoners. And when we got inside the house … oh, you
were rage incarnate, Kerys. I’d never seen anyone so divine in their anger.
My avenging Goddess.”
I gripped the hem of her dress, and she raised her arms, helping me to
undress her. While I tossed it aside, she kicked off her strappy heels, her
quick fingers already unbuttoning my tunic. I bent and let her pull it over
my head. The fabric tangled on my horns, but she yanked hard, the tearing
of cloth loud in my ears.
“I knocked He’zath down, immobilized and bound him like a gift for
you,” I continued. “At twenty, I stopped counting how often you stabbed
him.”
 My lips crashed into hers, and I forced my tongue into her mouth. She
groaned, eyes rolling as she fumbled with my trousers. I pulled back,
yanking off my boots, my trousers, and my smallclothes.
Kerys glanced down at my cock, swallowing thickly.
“My priceless treasure, you don’t have to hesitate.” I grasped her cool
hand, bringing it to my length, and she smiled a shy, girlish grin. “You don’t
have to wait for permission. My body is yours. You’re my wife, and you may
touch me wherever pleases you, whenever pleases you.”
She mouthed the word wife, and her fingers curled around my erection,
stroking slowly. Heat flowed along my spine as she skimmed around my
piercings. I rubbed her with my tail, sliding the rings atop the tip over her
clit, her hips canting, seeking more friction.
“Tell me how I killed him,” she whispered, a shudder in her voice. “My
ex.”
“Blood. There was fucking blood everywhere. On the carpet. The drapes.
The furniture,” I gritted out. “You were covered in it, too, drenched, red
spattered across your face and your clothes.”
I panted as I grabbed her by the neck, stepping into her. She gasped,
but she didn’t stop teasing me, the pad of her thumb circling along the head
of my cock with each upward stroke. That was another thing she
remembered without realizing:
How to set me on fire with her touch.
Her pulse fluttered beneath my hand, and I squeezed, cutting off her air.
Desire burned through my veins, but fear still knotted my gut. Fear of the
ritual failing. Fear of losing her.
It only made me want her more. I wouldn’t waste another second.
I surged forward, pushing her back, and Kerys let out a wheezing laugh,
losing her balance. She twisted, flailing, and her foot hit me hard in the
back of the knee. Taken off guard, my leg buckled. I let go of her, trying to
catch myself as I slipped—and failed.
I flung my arms around her. My laughter mixed with hers, my gaze on
her beautiful eyes, narrowing with joy.
For a moment, it felt as if we were flying, weightless together.
Then gravity ran its course.
We fell.
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Asplash sounded. I couldn’t breathe.
Warm water pressed in on me, and I realized what had happened.
The pond.
In the low light, distracted by Kerys’s wiles, I hadn’t noticed how close
we’d gotten to the edge. Too close, apparently.
I came up for air, pulling her along with me. She gasped, squirming
from my arms, giggling and coughing while she slicked back her hair,
paddling on the spot.
My heart thrummed faster as I drank in the divine sight of her.
She was soul-shatteringly gorgeous, drifting in glittering water
reflecting the moonlight, eyeliner running in black trails down her face,
cheeks red from the wine.
“You did this on purpose! First, you try to throw me off the balcony, now
you’re attempting to get me drunk and drown me!” she playfully accused,
pointing a dripping finger at me.
I decided to play along.
“Very good. You’ve seen through my evil scheme, but now I have you
exactly where I want you, trapped in these treacherous currents.”
Swimming toward her, I gave her my best villainous smirk, stretching out a
hand as if to grab her. “Aren’t you going to flee from your killer, my darling
wife?”
“Of course not.” She turned her nose up at me, though her lips trembled
with a barely contained smile. “I’m going to fight back!”
She splashed water into my face, momentarily blinding me, and I
sputtered a chuckle.
“Oh, now you’ve made a mistake,” I growled.
 A thorny vine lashed from my right palm, aiming for her neck. I hadn’t
infused my thorns with poison and missed—entirely on purpose—but Kerys
shouted in triumph, readying herself for another attack.
This time, I was faster.
I dove. Water flooded my ears, dulling my hearing, her excited screech
sounding far away. My vine slithered toward her like an aquatic serpent,
and I grinned as it wound around the waistband of her panties. She flinched
when I pulled them down, the thorns leaving dark red scratch marks on her
skin.
The light fabric floated to the surface, her legs kicking as she twirled,
trying to spot me.
But she wouldn’t get away this easily. I’d teach her what it meant to play
these wicked games with a brutal man like me.
My vine found her ankle, coiling around it. Tightly. A jerking shudder
ran through her as thin swirls of red colored the water, and my erection
pulsed. Her pain was my own, personal aphrodisiac.
I yanked her beneath the surface, and my embrace encased her like a
vise, her arms pinned by her sides.
Even in the warm water, her struggling, bare form was hot against me,
my cock leaking as I studied the fear on her face. Bubbles left her rosy lips
in a blunted scream, wisps of hair drifted around her head, wide eyes
pleading.
Drowning suited her.
I wished I had a canvas and oil paints with me to preserve her desperate
expression for generations to come.
Akin to a dying star blazing across the night sky, Kerys was always the
most radiant when she felt a brush of the executioner’s blade on her neck,
the hand of the reaper squeezing her heart.
Her executioner, her reaper, the man she feared and loved, the one who
brought her pleasure and agony, the one who protected and caged her, was
me. It would always be me, and I’d kill anyone who tried to take my place.
She thrashed as I pressed my lips to hers, exhaling air into her. Even if
this had been my last breath, I would have sacrificed it for her.
I hadn’t told her, but from the moment we reunited, Kerys had two
choices:
She could be my wife again or she could be my captive—but she would
be mine.
My tongue flicked against hers, coaxing her into a long kiss. For a short
while, the tension fell from her, until she writhed again. My demonic pact
didn’t only make me stronger and heal faster, giving me a higher pain
tolerance, but I also needed to rest and eat less, could hold my breath
longer.
She couldn’t.
I watched the panic in her eyes grow, holding her wrists at her back.
 Just a few seconds more, I thought, trying to burn the image of her into
my mind. Suffer just a little longer for me.
A blue tinge crept over her features, and I surged to the surface. She
coughed, water flowing from her mouth while I used my tail to brush unruly
strands of hair out of her face. My vine released her ankle, but I kept her in
my embrace, pressing her against me.
“You’re … you’re a bastard, Skrain.” She smirked, thumping my chest
with her fist. “Can’t you ever just be nice?”
“Slander.” I grinned and put a kiss on the tip of her nose. “I am being
nice, my darling wife.”
The blush on her cheeks returned at the word “wife,” which must have
meant she liked it.
“Let me make it up to you,” I said, letting go with one arm.
The vine sprouting from my right palm writhed, growing, surrounding us
in loose coils underwater. I focused on my magic, feeling the green stem
splitting. Hundreds of round, dark seeds emerged, rising to the surface
around us. Gentle pops sounded as they opened, velveteen blue petals
widening into lush blooms.
Within a few moments, we were swimming in a sea of cobalt roses.
Her breath came in an awed sigh. “These flowers …” She cupped her
hands, picking one up to raise it to her nose, inhaling. Her misty eyes met
mine. “They’re the same ones you left in my room. I had no idea you grew
them.”
Heat crept over my ears as I retracted the vine into my body and laid a
hand on her cheek, my thumb caressing in long strokes.
“This is what you make me do, Kerys. You make me bloom. Before I
found you again, all my magic was capable of was destruction. Thorns and
poison. But you’re the fire in my chest. The red in my veins. The air in my
lungs. The taste of bold wine on my tongue and the heady perfume of
flowers on the breeze. You’re the rain upon the dunes. Without you, my life
is nothing but shades of gray.”
I couldn’t say if that choked sound leaving her was a sigh or a sob, but
she dropped the rose and kissed me. Her legs wrapped around my hips,
holding herself so close to me it felt as if she wanted to melt into me. I
supported her rear with my tail, one arm around her waist, the other hand
winding into her hair.
“Why do I feel the same?” she whispered, leaning her forehead against
mine.
A chuckle escaped me. “Because I’ve been telling you the damn truth.
This is where you belong. These lands, this house, my arms … they are your
home. A home we made together.”
Her thighs squeezed hard, her fingers drawing up and down the nape of
my neck. “I always felt like I was missing something, a part of myself. But I
didn’t know what it was. Nothing could fill that void.” She kissed me again.
“Until … you.”
 “Don’t worry about anything right now, my priceless treasure.” I
pressed a digit to her lips and brought us to the side of the pond, jutting my
chin out. “Can you hold on to the edge while facing me, Kerys?”
She nodded, releasing me. Half floating with her back braced against
the pool wall, she spread her arms, fingers grabbing the stone rim.
“Just let me make you feel good now.” I brushed over her head. “No
more questions tonight.”
I took a deep breath and pinched my mouth shut. With a splash, I dove
until my face was right in front of her sex, and a vine shot from my left hand
to the ground, anchoring itself in cracked tiles.
Water filled my ears and my nose, heightening every sensation as I
leaned in. I sucked her clit into my mouth, forming a tight seal. She writhed
as the stud in my tongue clicked against her piercing, teasing, lapping.
My erection ached as I savored the aroma of her desire. She tasted just
like she always had.
Her hips bucked as she reached down, holding on to my horns, grinding
against my face. Still lavishing affection on her clit, I pushed my free hand
between her legs.
Her cunt welcomed three of my digits, suckling tight around them. The
harder she gripped my horns, the harder she squirmed, the harder I fucked
her. My fingers pumped in and out of her, my teeth closing gently around
the bejeweled nub at the apex of her slit.
A wave of shuddering ecstasy came over her. She twitched, belly tensing
and legs shaking.
I thought about ruining her orgasm, about withdrawing just as her inner
walls convulsed and she came against my mouth. The idea had a surge of
heat drawing from my balls into my length, but I knew I would get plenty of
opportunities to torment her. And as much as I enjoyed denying her, I
enjoyed pleasuring her, too.
I let her ride out her climax before I pried her hands from my horns,
pulled in the vine, and surfaced, just in time to hear her last moans fade into
panting breaths. A rapturous smile curled her lips, head tipping back. When
she peered at me, I thought I saw the reflection of a million glittering stars
in her eyes.
Her thighs encircled my hips in a wordless plea, and I gripped the base
of my dick, guiding it to her entrance. Languidly, I sank inside her, and she
whined. It took a strict reign over my self-control to not just pound into her,
make her shout my name into the mellow breeze, but for a while, I wanted
to savor her.
The slowness of my movement made her eyes roll, with every long thrust
the flowers on the water swayed and her tits shook.
“Creators, you are so deep inside me,” she gasped. “Your cock feels so
good.”
 “I said that my body is yours, Kerys,” I gritted out. “But in the same way,
your body is mine. Every inch of velvet skin, every lock of silky hair, every
smile, every moan, and every cry is mine.”
I retreated to the tip and pushed inside, hard. Her mouth fell open, her
cunt clamping around me. The tip of my tail writhed between us, flicking
her clit, and her nails scored up my spine.
“Your pussy belongs to me, too, my darling wife,” I hissed. “Promise
there will never be another for you, Kerys.”
“Only you, Skrain. Only—”
My hips snapped quicker, rougher, a string of curses tumbling from her
lips, cutting her off. I bent my head, sucking on her nipple, and when I tried
my teeth on her flesh, she came again.
Her cunt rippled as her hot climax gripped me, her toes curling at my
back. I fucked her harder, faster. Her nipple popped from my lips, while I
sped up my tail’s movement along the swollen bundle of nerves crowning
her folds.
“Again,” I growled before I focused my mouth on her other breast.
I didn’t stop, continued taking her, pounding into her, licking and biting,
until another orgasm racked her body. She shook, panting, and keening,
squeezing my cock like her life depended on it.
“Only you,” she breathed after coming down from her peak, giving me a
lascivious smile. “I only belong to you.”
“And now, my darling wife,” I said, biting back a moan. “I’m going to fill
your cunt with my cum until you can’t take any more, until even that little
contraception spell can’t save you. I’m going to knock you up, and there’s
nothing you can do to stop me.”
She didn’t get to answer, my mouth closing over hers, but I could see it
in her gleaming eyes, feel it in the curve of her lips against mine.
Kerys needed this as much as I did.
We both knew there was no chance of getting her pregnant. Like most
comfort women, she was under the influence of a contraceptive barrier
spell, and I didn’t have the means to undo it myself.
Before her death, our marriage hadn’t lasted long enough to consider
starting a family. Now wasn’t the right time, either.
No, this was about claiming her. About her knowing that when she
accepted my seed, when I pumped her full of my essence, she was
irrevocably, eternally, mine.
I breathed a kiss onto the shell of her ear as my balls tensed. My cock
throbbed, pulsing as I came apart inside her. I stayed entwined with her,
not pulling out, not wanting to leave the heat of her flesh.
“Everything I said last night, Kerys, it was all true,” I whispered. “My
feelings for you haven’t changed for a century, and they never will. I have
waited so long to tell you again how much I care about you, and every
breath I have taken in your absence was practice so I could speak the truth
now. Those emotions have set me ablaze from the inside out, my ribs
charred and my heart smoldering ashes. Without you, my soul is a barren
wasteland, and only you can breathe life into me, make me flower.”
Her pulse had just begun to slow, but now, it hammered so hard I felt it
against my chest. Lips trembling, she stared at me. Conflicting emotions
crossed her face, and I kissed her again, half afraid she might tell me to
stop if I didn’t.
“You don’t have to say it back if you’re not ready, but I can’t keep this in
any longer. The words are suffocating me.” Her brows flickered as I pulled
back to look into her eyes, a quivering smile lifting the corners of her lips. “I
love you, Keryssa. I have loved you for as long as I can remember, and from
this day on, I swear we will never be apart again.”
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A
fter a long ride, the scarf wrapped around my head seemed to do far
too little to protect me from the noon sun. But even hotter burned
Skrain’s chest against my back, making me acutely aware of how
close we were.
Our black horse galloped over the dunes, mane fluttering, and he held
me tightly, one arm firmly around my waist, his other hand gripping the
reins. The rush of wind and my pulse whooshing in my ears, it was a little
how I imagined flying would feel, but heaviness filled my heart.
Since I’d woken in Skrain’s embrace, in his bed, I’d choked down the
same three words again and again and again. Just when I thought they’d
finally gone, they surfaced again, tying my tongue into knots, making it hard
to focus.
I felt it, too, last night. Creators, I’d almost said it.
I love you.
What insanity to tell a man I’d met a few days ago that I was in love with
him. But if I felt it, did it really matter how long we’d known each other?
And the more time I spent with Skrain, the closer I was to believing his
story about my death. About being his wife.
His darling wife.
Blood rushed to my cheeks, even the tips of my ears getting hot.
Whenever he called me his wife, I couldn’t think clearly. It was like
sunshine trapped in my chest, as if I glowed from the inside out, and all I
could do was smile, smile, smile.
A slow sigh expanded my ribs.
I love you.
Why didn’t I say it back?
 “Nervous about the ritual?” Skrain asked, and I startled from deep
thought. “You were sighing.”
“I guess,” I said, locking my fingers with his as they laid across my
midriff.
“You have nothing to be afraid of, Kerys.” His hand squeezed mine.
“We’re almost there.”
He spurred on the horse, and the animal whinnied before breaking into
a final sprint. As we crested a row of dunes, my mouth slackened. A shiver
shook me to the marrow, my stomach churning.
The old mansion.
The blackened, skeletal remains of the grand house Skrain used to call
home. The manor he claimed I called home, too.
Only the upper level and the top of the garden walls stuck out of the
sand. The rest was buried beneath the desert, flowering cacti and
tumbleweeds dotting the surface, but I would have recognized this building
anywhere, in any state of disrepair. I’d never seen anything like its aesthetic
mixture of flat and domed roofs, giving it the appearance of a small castle.
It looked the same as the mansion I’d spent the past days in.
The pit in my stomach grew as Skrain stopped the horse. He let go of me
and slid off his cloak’s hood before dismounting, offering his hand to me.
Shoulders tense, I took it, climbing down. My boots hit the sand, when a
stench assaulted my senses, acrid and sharp.
“Do you smell that?” I asked, pinching my nostrils shut.
Skrain sniffed and shook his head. “Smell what?”
I tilted my head, hand dropping from my nose, and inhaled deeply. My
brows drew low, confusion swirling in my mind. I would’ve sworn there was
smoke in the air, but now, I only smelled the dry dustiness of the dunes and
Skrain’s scent.
“It’s nothing,” I said, leaning into him.
His mouth crinkled into a grin before he kissed me. “I said there’s
nothing to fear, but that doesn’t mean you have to hide your emotions. You
don’t have to be strong for me. I know you’ve had a bad hand dealt to you in
this life, and you had to act tough to survive. That time is over.”
A mess of jumbled words thickened my throat, but I forced myself to
smile. “Let’s just get this over with, okay?” I choked out.
Skrain gave an encouraging nod as he untied a leather pack from the
back of the horse. “As you wish, my priceless treasure.”
We marched toward the remains of the house. Each step made me feel
sicker, my feet dragging as if pulled down by quicksand. Skrain helped me
climb to the top of a flat roof and set the bag down.
“I’ll get everything prepared,” he said, and took a hand broom from the
pack. His tail swung in perfect synchronicity with each broad stroke as he
swept the sand from the area ahead of us, revealing terracotta tiles.
 I pulled the scarf from my head, loosely wrapping it around my throat.
Restlessly, I fumbled with the seam of my tunic, then the clasp of my belt,
then the ties of my trousers. “What do I have to do during the ritual?”
Skrain looked at me over his shoulder, putting the broom aside and
rummaging through the bag again. “Just let the memories come to you.
According to this ancient text …” He took out a red book with swooping
Xar’vathi writing on the cover, flipping it open. The pages were yellowed
and worn thin with age, crinkling as he leafed through them. “You’re
supposed to see the most important moment—or moments—of your previous
life, and by reliving them, your memories will return.”
I frowned, poking my tongue into my cheek. “Where did you even find
this? How do we know it’s safe?”
“I’ve been corresponding with a doctor, an expert on magical amnesia,
and he sold me this spell. Besides, Kerys, I’m a wealthy man with many
contacts across this realm, most of which owe me a favor here or there. And
if there’s something I want, I can just buy it. If I can’t find something, I’ll
pay someone to find it for me.”
“But no one could find me,” I burst out, wincing as Skrain deflated.
“You’re right.” His brows knitted. “I wish I had an explanation for you,
some good reason why it took me so long to find you. But I assure you it
wasn’t for lack of trying. I hired a small army of agents from all factions and
races, from paupers to nobility—just to locate you.” He raised his arms, the
book cover smacking his thigh as they dropped again. “And what did I
achieve? Nothing. Trust me, not a single day goes by that I don’t hate
myself for failing to find you earlier.”
I bit my lip. “I’m sorry. That was insensitive of me.”
“But you’re correct.” He barked a humorless laugh. “As much as I
despise myself, as hard as it has become to look at myself in the mirror,
turning away from the truth won’t change it, and I owe it to you to stand by
my Hells damned mistakes. I can’t undo the past, but I can try my fucking
hardest to make our future together worth the suffering I caused you.”
I reached for his free hand, lifting it to my mouth. His eyes softened as I
pressed a kiss to each of his knuckles.
“My suffering was never your fault, Skrain. And after the ritual, the past
doesn’t matter anymore. We’ll get our happy ending.” My teeth clacked as I
snapped them shut. I couldn’t believe I just said that.
My belly tightened with anxiety, though not because I didn’t want the
happy ending I promised him. Maybe I wanted it too much.
I couldn’t tell what I was more afraid of—never finding out who I used to
be, or knowing exactly what I’d lost. Or worse, finding out I wasn’t who
Skrain hoped I was.
My time with him was magical, and I wasn’t ready to let go. I had never
felt more desired, better cared for, or more content than at his side. We had
that kind of fucked up, filthy, messy relationship I’d never dared to want.
 Even if I was terrified, I had to go through with the ritual. I’d never
forgive myself, never find peace unless I knew the truth.
A hard swallow shifted the column of Skrain’s throat before he smirked.
“Yes. We’ll get our happy ending.”
He was nervous, too, both of us pretending to be fine for the sake of the
other. I couldn’t help wondering if that was what love meant. Being
vulnerable with each other, but also giving each other strength. Hope.
Knowing from the glint of worry in the other’s eyes that even if things went
wrong, we’d get through it together.
I thought back to the night we met, when I stood alone at the docks,
watching distant ships sway on the waves. Suddenly, I knew the answer to
my own question.
I craved both freedom and safety—and I found them in Skrain.
Freedom to be brash, clumsy, way-too-outspoken and still love myself,
still be loved by him.
Safety from this cruel world, his arms my shield, his heart my harbor.
Skrain put a kiss on top of my head and pulled away. He took something
else from the bag, and my eyes widened as they fell on a slim, short dagger,
dark runes engraved in the ivory bone hilt. I squinted, trying to make out
the writhing lines, and my head throbbed with pain, a surge of dizziness
making my vision swim.
“Don’t look at the writing,” Skrain snapped, hiding the blade behind his
back. “It’s Demonic. My pact allows me to tolerate it, for a while. But you’re
fully mortal and not trained in the dark arts. At least not as you are now. If
your magic returns, it would be a different matter. Still, I’d rather not have
your brain melting before we even get started.”
I tensed. “This ritual is of demonic origin?”
“That’s no reason to worry, Kerys. You never came to Xar’vath in this
life, but you must know that demonology, hemomancy, and necromancy are
integral parts of our magical culture. Even the Emperor has used them to
prolong his lifespan.”
I gritted my teeth. “Fine.”
Skrain pointed to the middle of the area he’d cleared with the broom.
“Stand there when you’re ready.”
My palms stuck together as I wrung my clammy hands and did as I was
told, taking up position. I planted my feet, squared my shoulders,
consciously taking slow, deep breaths. “Ready,” I announced.
“I need you to stay completely still and silent during the ritual. And I
need you to trust me,” he said, setting the book aside on the bag before he
approached, blade raised. “Do you promise to trust me, my darling wife?”
The ice in my chest thawed. “I … do.”
Skrain had me developing a habit of going against everything my
common sense warned me about, like doing odd rituals with my stalker, but
this was different. I didn’t have to force myself to rely on him. It felt natural.
Good. Easy.
 I wanted this.
Skrain took my trembling hand, turning it up. His mouth moved with
hushed syllables in Xar’vathi, spoken under his breath. My heart pounded
as he lowered the dagger to my palm. Carefully, like an agonizing caress, he
carved a winding, spiral-shaped rune into my flesh.
I hissed, my breath catching as blood welled from the wound, and he
tilted my hand, red dripping onto the orange roof tiles.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
His lips didn’t stop moving as he brought the blade to my face. I
flinched, but his expression softened, and I remembered my promise,
forcing my shoulders to fall. He plucked a thin strand from the underlayer
of hair behind my ear, using the dagger to saw through it, and let it drift
into the growing, crimson puddle.
Drip. Drip.
A shadow skirted along the edges of my vision, thorns and dark mist, but
when I blinked, it was gone. Goose bumps rushed over my skin. This feeling,
the hallucination, must have had to do with Skrain’s magic.
He stepped back and opened the locket around his neck. Gently, he used
the weapon to pry the amber encased strand from the pendant. Breathlessly
chanting, he dropped it into the red at my feet. Sanguine spattered over my
boots, and I suppressed the urge to jump away, keeping every muscle stiff
as a board.
Another tingle of magic crept in a shiver across my body.
Skrain’s eyes met mine, and he gave a reassuring nod before he dragged
the dagger across his own palm. Hand flexing to quicken the blood flow, he
circled me, the dark green liquid drawing a ring around me.
My pulse raged so loud in the silence of the desert; my eardrums ached.
All I could hear was my heart—and the incessant dripping of my blood like a
leak in my skull.
Drip. Drip.
Drip.
Skrain paused in front of me, lips dry from silently reciting the spell. His
breath came in short bursts, a focused frown wrinkling his brow.
I swayed. Black spots floated in my vision.
Drip.
Skrain’s hand shook as he stretched it forward, above the pool of my
blood. When the first drop of emerald hit red, my lungs constricted. The
world around me blurred.
Verdant flames roared upward from the puddle, and my pulse skipped. I
stumbled.
I looked to Skrain, but he was still chanting, eyes closed, sweat building
on his forehead and his tail lashing.
How long had it been since my last breath? Since the last beat of my
heart?
My knees buckled.
My vision faded into darkness.
Heat and pain beyond imagining enveloped me.
I screamed as I felt my skin roasting.
Flesh blistering.
The stench of burned meat stinging my nose.
Fire, I thought. Flames everywhere. No way out.
I’m going to die.
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I
n rhythm with the slow, romantic melody of a violin, I strode down the
lantern-lit aisle between rows of chairs. Hot tears pricked my eyes,
blurring the faces of the guests, but my heart was light, and my cheeks
hurt from smiling.
With every step, the hem of my opulent red gown brushed along the
grass. I glanced down at the lush, golden embroidery on the fabric, my
heavy earrings and the gems in my hair jingling. Crimson petals rained
down on me, tickling my face.
I felt as if I could spread my arms and fly, walk on the clouds, dance on
the sickle of the moon and pluck the stars from the sky.
But all I truly needed was right in front of me, anchoring me to the
ground.
There, on a platform surrounded by a half-circle of braziers, by the side
of an old Xar’vathi priest in sanguine robes, stood him.
Skrain.
The one I wanted to spend eternity with.
His white silk shoes peeked out from the hem of his luxurious robes
matching the shade of red and embroidery pattern of my gown. They suited
him so well. With a ruby circlet resting on his loose, long hair and gems
studding his horns, he looked like a king.
My breath stuttered as I climbed the steps. Our gazes locked, and he
smiled, tears shimmering in his eyes, too, and I understood the meaning of
love.
I would have done anything for this man.
We had seen the darkest, ugliest sides of each other. We held each
other’s hand, whether our fingers were coated in blood or gold. We had
seen each other cry and laugh, shout for joy, and scream in pain.
 I knew what I loved about him. His loyalty. The fire in his heart. The way
he protected me with his life. I could have come up with a million reasons to
adore him.
But I knew his flaws as well. His temper, his brutality, his callousness.
And he knew my flaws, too, but we still chose one another.
I would have chosen him again and again.
Skrain reached for my hand and raised it to his lips, putting a chaste
kiss onto my knuckles. “You are breathtaking,” he whispered.
All I managed was a strangled, sobbing giggle, and he snickered.
The priest cleared his throat, adjusting the heavy crimson ritual shroud
on his head before gesturing for me to take my place at Skrain’s side.
The old man spread his arms. His voice boomed as he greeted us, and I
silently thanked whoever had first come up with translation spells. I loved
having a traditional Xar’vathi wedding, but my progress on learning the
native language hadn’t been as fast as I had hoped, and without the spell, I
wouldn’t have understood a word.
Luckily, when my turn came, the enchanted tourmaline dangling from
an anklet beneath my skirt would turn my spoken Elvish into Xar’vathi, too.
Wearing it was a habit I picked up on the first day I arrived in Xar’vath.
Except for language lessons, I hadn’t taken it off since, though Skrain’s
talent for Elvish was astounding, and in private, he communicated with me
in my mother tongue.
“Dear guests,” the priest said. “Beneath the watchful eyes of Zawayn,
our gentle God of matrimony, we have assembled here today to bear
witness to the bonding of Skrain and Keryssa. May Zawayn grant his
blessing to the holy union of these two hearts.”
A cheerful cry drifted from the crowd, and Skrain squeezed my fingers
as the priest continued, waving his arms in a grand gesture.
“Scripture says at the beginning of time, the Xar’vathi were a people
with two hearts beating in their chest. Two souls housed in the same vessel.
But when Ha’dyx, the God of jealousy, heard of the happiness of our blessed
existence, he turned green with envy. Driven by jaundiced rage, he brought
a great calamity down on Xar’vath, splitting us in two.”
The man pulled his hands apart, and the guests at our back gasped. I
smiled. They must have heard this tale countless times, but love and loss
moved everyone, whether here or in Zeridia.
“Since then, we are doomed to wander, lost without our fated other
half,” the priest said. “We search for the one to complete us. The one whose
heart beats in rhythm with our own. The only one to understand the
tenebrous depths of our souls, to brave its darkness, and want us still.
Skrain and Keryssa are two such shattered beings, made whole by each
other.”
The priest waved at us, unsheathing a small dagger from his belt.
“Announce your loyalty to one another. Swear your love in word and blood.”
 Skrain’s throat bobbed as he turned to face me. “Keryssa, I swear to
choose you every day for the rest of my life. Every minute. Every second.
With every breath and every beat of my pulse, I pledge myself to you.”
Tears streamed down my cheeks as I bit my lip, holding in another sob.
Skrain held out his left hand. He kept his eyes on mine, didn’t flinch as
the priest pulled the blade over his palm.
“By the red of my veins, I vow to honor you as my wife,” Skrain
continued. “I vow to never look at another with longing. I vow to protect you
and cherish you. And when this existence comes to its end, I vow to find you
in the next. Should I ever break my oath …” He pressed his hand to his
throat, leaving a crimson print across his skin. “My lungs shall falter, and
my heart shall stop. I lay my life at your feet.”
He kneeled. With his uninjured hand, he lifted my skirt to expose my
white silk heels. Holding my gaze, he put his bleeding palm against the left
shoe, staining the top red.
My mouth curled as he rose. I couldn’t deny my tears any longer, I
didn’t want to any longer. I had never cried out of joy before, and everyone
should see how happy he made me.
The priest jutted his chin at me. “Now you.”
My voice wobbled, coming out too thin at first. “Skrain, I swear to
choose you every day for the rest of my life. Every minute. Every second.
With every breath and every beat of my pulse, I pledge myself to you.”
I presented my left hand to the priest, and while I looked into Skrain’s
eyes, alight with affection, I barely felt the sting of the blade.
“By the red of my veins, I vow to honor you as my husband,” I said,
showing my cut palm to the guests. “I vow to never look at another with
longing. I vow to protect you and cherish you. And when this existence
comes to its end, I vow to find you in the next. Should I ever break my oath
…” The gash throbbed as I wrapped my hand around my throat, coating it in
blood. “My lungs shall falter, and my heart shall stop. I lay my life at your
feet.”
A tear rolled down his cheek as I lowered myself to my knees. Softly, I
grasped the hem of his robes, peering up to catch his gaze. His breath
stuttered as I pressed my wounded palm to his left shoe, leaving my mark.
I straightened, and the priest took our bleeding hands, intertwining
them between his. “From this moment on, these two hearts beat as one
once more. With Zawayn as our witness, their souls are woven as one,
bound to each other in this life and any that follow. Skrain and Keryssa, I
hereby pronounce you husband and wife.”
The crowd jumped to their feet, joyful ringing filling my ears as they
shook carved wooden sticks with dozens of tiny bells attached. More petals
rained down on us, and I laughed.
Time stood still. I wanted to remember this moment for eternity and
beyond.
 “I love you, Keryssa,” Skrain whispered, wrapping his other arm around
me, pulling me in.
“I love you more,” I breathed.
My heart swelled as he lowered his face, our noses brushing. His lips
met mine and—
White flashed before my eyes.

Adrenaline pumping through me, I pushed the bedroom door open with my
elbow. Skrain stood by the dresser as he cursed under his breath, fumbling
with the pearl buttons of his tunic.
Jumping in front of him, I beamed a smile. “I was right!” I said, holding
up the music box in my hands.
Skrain stiffened, heaving a long sigh. The lines on his forehead were
deeper than usual, as if he’d spent the entire afternoon frowning while I
was sequestered away in my study. Leaving his shirt half-open, he rubbed
both palms across his face.
“Right about what?” he asked, voice tense, tail flicking like that of an
annoyed cat.
I popped the lid of the music box open, and a gentle melody filled the
room. “Notice anything?”
“No. It’s the same box I gifted you during our wedding night. The same
melody I listened to when I was a boy.”
“But look, the gems!” I pointed at the four spinning figures, now each
presenting a faceted jewel in their outstretched hands.
Skrain’s brow furrowed as he cast a brief glance at the box. “Gems?”
“I did some research and found that every element and its deity is
associated with a certain gem,” I explained. “To me, it always looked like
there was something missing, like the dancers were supposed to hold
something. So I shaped a dark blue sapphire for water, a light blue
aquamarine for air, a red carnelian for fire, and a tiger’s eye for earth.” I
paused, my grin slipping as I noticed Skrain’s expression changing, turning
vacant. “Are you listening?”
“Yes,” he mumbled.
I clicked my tongue. “Anyway, when I put the gems into their hands, a
compartment opened down here …” I slid my nail along the bottom edge of
the box, pulling out a shallow drawer, barely deep enough for a folded piece
of paper.
“In it was a spell recipe for a special soulstone, written in Xar’vathi,” I
said. “The instructions mentioned that it’s strong enough to imprison a
demon while keeping it alive, essentially letting the owner wield its power—
forever! It must be some sort of lost knowledge because I’ve never heard of
anything like it, only stones that drain the demon to death, limiting how
often it can be used. I-I left it in the safety of my warded study to analyze
later, and—”
I paused once more, pouting. Skrain’s distant gaze rested on the orange
sunset shimmering above the dunes.
“And then a dragon flew through the window and kidnapped me,” I said,
waving one arm. “The big, flappy bastard carried me right to his nest in the
mountains. I’m not actually here.”
“Sure. That’s great, Kerys. Sounds fun.” He still wasn’t looking at me,
still not listening.
My head cocked. Something had my husband terribly worried, and my
ramblings didn’t help.
“It’s not that important. I’ll tell you tonight over dinner, yes?” I
suggested.
“Uh-huh,” he hummed, a muscle at his jaw feathering.
I closed the music box and put it atop the dresser. My eyes fixed on the
locket dangling around his neck, I buttoned his tunic. A smile flitted across
my lips. Since I’d surprised him with the necklace during our first night as
husband and wife, he’d not taken it off.
Most Xar’vathi didn’t wear wedding rings. They believed in fated mates,
though the definition of fated was often skewed to accommodate the
merging of noble bloodlines or forging of business alliances.
Still, the spiritual connection and blood bond was more important than a
materialistic symbol thereof, but I wanted him to have something to remind
him of me. A locket with a strand of my hair, preserved in amber, and a
little portrait of me I’d commissioned in secret seemed perfect.
I brushed over his chest, and finally, he looked down at me, teeth
clenching. I drew shapes and swirls across his abdomen, swooping to the
waistband of his trousers, hooking a finger behind it.
“You’re so tense,” I said. “Why don’t we open a bottle of wine, sit in the
garden, and you can tell me what is worrying you—”
He grabbed me by the shoulders, pushing me away. “I can’t, Kerys.”
His grip didn’t cause pain, I wasn’t even afraid of him. I knew he
wouldn’t hurt me, but the disrespect had my gut twisting with anger.
“You’re out of line, Skrain. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“I think I found a buyer for the remaining shipment of chipped emeralds,
even those with inclusions nobody else would take.”
“That’s wonderful! You’ve been trying for months.” I reached for his
arm, stroking it. “Why are you in such a foul mood then?”
He ran a hand through his ponytail, shaking his head. “The buyer wants
to see me tonight, hash out a quick deal, or it’s off the table. I received a
message a few hours ago, saying they’d meet me at the mine to pick up the
jewels, but the client is Xar’vathi. He insisted I come without you.”
I puffed my cheeks before slowly exhaling a stuttering breath. “I still
don’t get why the Xar’vathi are so distrusting toward foreigners. Especially
since I’m your wife and business partner.”
 Skrain growled, his tail hitting the dresser with a thunk. “I don’t fucking
like it either, but that was his condition to open negotiations. Guess he
thinks he can strong-arm me by rushing the deal, probably get me to lower
the price, and he’s not wrong.”
“Can’t this wait until tomorrow or, even better, could you find someone
else to buy—”
Skrain barked a sarcastic laugh. “No, I can’t.” He raised his arms,
gesturing to the open balcony door and the bedroom. “We need the damn
money. The honeymoon, building this mansion, the staff, and your insatiable
hunger for luxury … we’ve spent too much, Kerys, and there are still more
bills coming in. We haven’t found new emerald veins in months. The
deposits are depleted, and all we have left are those tarnished jewels. If I
can’t make this deal work to carefully reinvest the coin, we’ll be bankrupt
before the year ends. We’ll lose the house—everything!”
My shoulders fell. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
His eyes softened. “Because I can’t say no to you. Because I don’t want
to say no to you.” He sighed, a small smile tugging at his lips. “And because
I didn’t want to worry you. Call me a fool for that, sure. But when we
married, I promised to look after you, give you everything you need or want.
My purpose in life is to make you happy, my darling wife.”
“Usually you do a fine job,” I teased, embracing him, and he shrunk a
little, melting into my touch, seeking refuge in it.
“Not so much right now, huh?” His heavy hand laid itself onto my head,
caressing. “I’m sorry. My stress is no excuse to act like a fucking prick.”
I giggled. “I’m glad I didn’t have to say it.”
He grasped my chin, tilting my head up to give me a long kiss. “I’ll make
it up to you, yes? I’ll probably be back late tonight, but tomorrow, I’ll have
the cook whip up all your favorite dishes. We’ll drink wine in the garden,
have a picnic. I’ll read to you, and you can tell me all about the music box.
Then we’ll dance until the moon rises! No, until the sun comes up again!”
I rolled my eyes as if I had to ponder his offer. Then I allowed the smile
playing around my mouth to break through.
“Apology accepted.” I stood on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “I’ll go back
to my study. And then, I’ll await you in bed. Promise to wake me when you
return?”
“I’ll hurry.” He breathed a last kiss onto the tip of my nose before
pulling away. “And I’ll miss you every second we’re apart.”
I laughed. “I’ll miss you mor—”
My vision went white.

I closed my eyes, lids heavy from poring over the ancient recipe for hours,
but my slow thoughts kept drifting back to work.
 Such a weird list of ingredients to create a soulstone.
What did it say again?
Drowsiness made my brain sluggish, the memory of the recipe blurring
in my mind’s eye. I knew it was there, just hidden beneath layers and layers
of exhaustion.
I tossed and turned, tangling in the sheets. The massive bed seemed too
cold, too large without Skrain, and I tucked my nose into the collar of his
tunic I’d stolen from the laundry basket in the bathroom.
It was his favorite, dark green cotton with abstract, golden embroidery,
and far too big for me. But he’d worn it this afternoon, and his spicy-sweet
scent of cinnamon and smoke was still fresh. Putting it on, wrapping myself
in his fragrance, it was almost as if he was with me—
The door creaked open, and so did my eyes. I squinted at the horned
figure stepping into the moonlit room, a lazy grin spreading over my face.
“Skrain,” I mumbled, stretching out a languid hand. “Come here. I’ve
been so lonely without you …”
He rounded the bed with slow, thudding steps, one arm behind his back.
I pulled back the covers and sat up against the headboard, blinking the
sleep from my vision. “Did you bring a surprise for me?”
The mattress dipped when he sat down, laying a hand on my cheek. I
shuddered, my brows knitting as I peered into his flinty eyes. His mouth was
pressed into a sneer, disgust written all over his face. Adrenaline surged
through me, startling me fully awake.
“Are you feeling okay?” I asked. “Did the deal go badly?”
No response.
“Skrain, why aren’t you talking to m—”
Sharp pain shot through my abdomen, taking my breath away. My heart
stumbled as I looked down at myself. Up at Skrain. Back down.
A knife stuck in my gut, and a dark, wet stain appeared on my tunic.
With each second, it grew.
Larger.
Larger.
I screamed as he twisted the blade before yanking it from my flesh. In
the pale light of the moon, it shone black with my blood. I doubled over,
pressing both hands to my belly, and hot tears ran down my face.
“You-you stabbed me,” I sobbed. “W-why …”
He calmly sheathed the weapon in a holster at his belt, not sparing me a
single look while he rose and walked to the dresser. The crack of a match
being struck had me flinching. I tried to get up, but my legs caved as I
swung them out of bed, and I crumpled to the floor.
“Please, Skrain …” I was getting lightheaded, sweat breaking out over
my forehead. “Tell me … why … I thought you l-loved me.”
He turned around, the light of the match deepening the shadows on his
face. For a second, it was as if my beloved wasn’t even in this chamber with
me. As if he didn’t even have a face, a black abyss swirling where handsome
eyes and mouth and nose once were. As if he wasn’t himself, not a man, not
my husband, but something dark.
Something evil.
I crawled toward him, dragging myself along the carpet. My sticky
fingers found his boot, and I gave a weak smile as I pressed a bloody print
onto the light brown suede. “Don’t you remember … our … wedding? How
we pledged our lives to each other?”
He kicked my hand away, and I rolled over. I coughed, the taste of
copper on my tongue. “Why, I just—I just want to know … why …”
“Because Keryssa …” he spat, but it seemed as if his lips didn’t move.
“You’re nothing but a drain on my wealth. You’re annoying and needy, and
I’ve had enough of playing the gentleman for a pathetic bitch like you.
Being around you is unbearable. I’ll be better off without you.”
My heart cracked. Shadows crept into my vision.
Sobbing, I dropped my head onto the carpet. I curled into myself as I felt
the life drain from my veins, but his words hurt so much more than the gash
in my stomach. His words carved out my chest, left me hollow. A ghost.
I cried out his name, over and over. I didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. Not
even when the lit match landed right beside me.
Heat engulfed me, but it wasn’t enough to chase the frigid hand of death
from my bones.
Pain beyond imagining filled every fiber of my being. I screamed as I felt
my skin roasting.
Flesh blistering.
The stench of burned meat stinging my nose.
It took the last of my strength to raise my head and watch him leave the
room.
He didn’t look back.
Fire, I thought. Flames everywhere. No way out.
I’m going to die.
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M y ribs felt intent on crushing my lungs, every shallow gasp an effort.
The minutes dragged while my pulse raced.
I glanced at the inactive ritual circle, the dagger right where I dropped
it. The trail of sanguine and dark green had burned into a black stain, the
other ingredients turned to ash. It was a demanding spell, took a lot of my
focus and power, and even now, the vibrant magical residue buzzed in the
air.
I clicked my tongue at the singed edges of our clothes, courtesy of the
wild flames. The manual hadn’t mentioned fire.
Had I ruined the ritual when I interfered, catching her when she
collapsed? Or maybe I set it up incorrectly from the start?
No. I hadn’t made a mistake.
I had recited the words perfectly. The ingredients were correct, too.
Per the instructions, I’d used her old lock of hair as a piece of her past, a
fresh strand cut right then as a piece of her current self. Her blood as the
tether to the present, and my blood—the blood of someone who was close to
her in her past life—as a conduit. Though the text had assumed a fully
mortal caster, not someone like me, tainted with demonic essence.
I adjusted Kerys’s head in my lap. Carefully, I peeked beneath the
bandage I had wrapped around her hand, ensuring the cut had stopped
bleeding.
A smile curled her lips, but it did nothing to assuage my worries.
What was the normal duration for this kind of ritual?
My tail lashed across the tiles, throwing sand into the air. Nerves raced
through me, dropping like a ball of iron into my heaving stomach.
What if she never woke up?
 The fear on her face had been plain. I should have stopped, put an end
to this madness. She wanted to know the truth and Hells—I wanted her to
know it, too. I wanted her to remember and love me again, but the risk was
too great.
How could I have been such a fucking idiot?
I should have accepted her fury if I told her no, if I refused to go through
with the ritual. An argument, even her hatred, would’ve been better than
harming her.
I barked a sardonic laugh, startling a vulture picking at the desiccated
remains of a desert fox.
And her memories?
Fuck her memories.
Finally, my mind had cleared. I’d been so obsessed with recovering the
past, I was destroying our future in the process.
I’d rather have this version of my wife than lose her forever.
I realized that now. Too fucking late.
If she died again, not even the most talented necromancers, not even a
fucking bargain could bring her back. No mortal soul could survive being
forced back into the realm of the living twice over.
Kerys convulsed, and immediately, my heart was in my throat.
Whimpers escaped her, prompting me to lift her into my arms. Who could
say if she felt me, if she knew I was there, but on the off-chance she did, I
wanted her to know she wasn’t alone.
Her struggle intensified. Arms lashing, legs flipping. Her brows were
drawn, rivulets of sweat running down her temples. Tears welled from
beneath her shuttered lids, streaming along her cheeks.
I cradled her tight against my chest. She hit me in the face, splitting my
lip, and I licked the sour blood off.
I counted the seconds. If she didn’t wake soon, I’d have to get her out of
this trance … but how?
Maybe I should have taken Emily along after all, but this was private,
not for her to—
A shrieking cry ripped from Kerys’s throat, and her eyes flew open. Her
lashes fluttered as fast as a butterfly’s wings, her glassy gaze disoriented,
lips moving wordlessly.
I let out a thin, relieved snicker. “Kerys, my priceless treasure. My
darling wife.” I gave her a soft squeeze as I pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“I’m so glad you’re awake. I was worried about you.”
Finally, she snapped out of her daze, and our eyes locked. Her chin
trembled.
“Are you injured?” I asked. “Any pain or—”
“Murderer!” she screamed, her voice shrill. Her fist hit my cheek. It was
a weak punch, and the grimace twisting her features told me it had hurt her
far more than me.
She must have been terrified, bewildered, still only half-awake.
 I flexed my jaw, smiling. “I don’t know what you saw, but the trance is
over, Kerys. You’re safe now. It’s me, Skrain.”
“Let me go, you murderer!” She pushed against my chest, and I allowed
her to scramble to her feet. I didn’t want to scare her more.
Fingers shaking, she yanked up her tunic, feeling along her stomach.
Every muscle tense, shoulders rounded, she backed away toward the ritual
circle.
“I thought you were aware of my past.” I smirked, shrugging. “I am
indeed a murderer. And so are you, by the way. We’ve gone over that, and
the stories of our crimes got you pretty hot last night.”
My possessive instincts told me to get up, catch her, hold her, but she
was frightened enough. I wanted to clear up her confusion first.
“No. Me!” Kerys yelled.
“You what? Why don’t you slow down a little, tell me what you
experienced during your vision, and we’ll talk it through. I’m here for you.”
With a clank, she tripped over the dagger, barely catching her balance.
She snapped up the weapon, knuckles bleeding white.
I thanked my lucky stars that the unnatural poison streaming through
my system nullified the usually acidic properties of demonic blood.
Otherwise, the residue on the hilt would have caused severe burns, eating
through her mortal flesh like carrion beetles. So long as she didn’t try to
read the demonic runes, she was in no danger. Touching them wouldn’t
harm her.
“You’re a liar and a murderer! You tricked me!” She jutted the blade at
me. “You killed me!”
My gut hardened, and my jaw dropped. I pushed myself to my feet. “This
isn’t funny, Keryssa,” I wheezed, suddenly fighting for breath.
“You killed me!” she repeated, gaze flicking along the horizon, then back
to me, head ducking. “You left me to bleed and burn, right here in this
house!”
My eyes widened. Phantom agony shot through my chest.
Her death.
Of all things, she must have relived her death. No wonder she was so
upset.
I forced down the panic shooting through my blood. For her sake, I had
to pull myself together, help her figure out what happened.
“Please,” I raised my hands, showing her my palms, trying to calm her.
“There must have been a mistake. Something went wrong with the spell,
twisting your vision of the past. I swear I didn’t harm a hair on your head.
Tell me what you saw. I beg you, Kerys. Give me a chance to explain,
please.”
She chewed on her lip. “I-I was in bed. You were going to be home late
because, uh … you had gone to sell a shipment of chipped emeralds.”
 I gave a slow nod, taking a single step toward her. “Correct. I remember
that part. You asked me to delay the meeting, but I told you we needed the
money. We had a small argument before making up quickly.”
“Y-yes. I fell asleep, alone. Then you came in, it was the middle of the
night. I was so happy to see you, b-but you—” Her voice trailed off,
returning thinner than before. “You were strange. Didn’t speak. There was
s-something in your hand. You hid it behind your back, sat down next to me
and … and-and—” She looked down at herself, pressing her fist and the hilt
of the dagger to her abdomen. “You stabbed me.”
My blood chilled. “Shit, Kerys, I-I have no fucking explanation why you
saw what you saw, and I understand you’re scared, but—”
“You said you were sick of me!” she screamed, and I flinched. “You said
I was too needy, only wanted your money!”
I shook my head. “Fuck that! Come on, I would never say that, and you
know it!” I hit my chest with a flat palm. “My money means nothing to me if
I can’t share it with you. I’d give it all up for you!”
She wasn’t even listening. One arm clutched around her belly, she took
unsteady steps backward to the edge of the roof.
“And then, you fucking liar, you disgusting murderer! Betrayer!” she
screeched. “Then you burned me! You burned everything! It hurt so much! I
hate you, Skrain!”
Her words were a hangman’s rope around my neck. My heart seized,
and I wasn’t sure it would ever beat again if she stopped loving me.
“Listen,” I rasped, unspent tears burning behind my eyes. “My darling
wife—”
She swung the blade, slashing through the air. “Don’t ever call me that
again!”
“When I returned it was the crack of dawn, and—it was already over. I
was too late. The house was in ruins, and you, you were dea—” I tried to say
more but my throat locked up. I ran my hands along my horns, gasping for
air. “I wept over your charred corpse until my tears ran dry and I swore to
never cry again.”
There hadn’t been a day I didn’t relive losing her. It was my punishment.
I needed to remember. Forgetting would have been a mercy, one I didn’t
deserve.
“But you’re right,” I said through gritted teeth. Shame forced my eyes to
the ground, my tail going limp, feeling heavy as lead. “I am guilty. Guilty of
leaving you by yourself, guilty of not saving you. But it wasn’t me who killed
you.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” she spat, cheeks a blotchy red from
frantic crying.
“I should have stayed with you. I was desperate, but I should have
checked the contact’s background, taken my time. It was my fault for falling
into the trap your ex-husband’s brother set. There was nobody at the mines,
only the nightshift workers. I waited for hours, and no one turned up. He
just wanted me out of the house. Ytzal Xyrkor killed you. Not me.”
Doubt played in her narrowing gaze, and I took another step closer.
“Ytzal?” she echoed. “But why?”
“By killing your husband and taking over the mine, we ruined him. He
lost everything. I should have seen it coming when the bastard wasn’t in the
mansion on the night of the revolt. I should have known he would want to
take revenge and struck preemptively. We had guards on duty at home, like
always, but the few who survived the inferno never saw him enter or leave.
I’ve spent decades trying to piece this puzzle together! Decades!”
Her nose wrinkled, the weapon shaking, lowering. “Then how would you
know it was him?”
Heat flared in my belly, licking into my chest, filling my veins with pure
rage.
“Because he left a mocking note of admission pinned to the wall of the
garden.” I clenched my hands into fists, vines worming to the surface of my
palms, forcing their way through the space between my fingers. “The
bastard wanted me to know it was him. He wanted me to fucking know that
he’d taken everything from me, just like we had taken everything from him.
A man with nothing left to lose is the most dangerous. He didn’t even fear
death, told me where to find him.”
Her frown deepened. “And then?” she asked.
“I went and slaughtered him. Then the rest of his family. All of them,
every distant relative, every spouse. I cleaned the stain of the Xyrkor
bloodline from this realm.”
She hesitated before raising the dagger again, keeping me at arm’s
length. “I don’t believe you,” she bit out.
This was impossible. How could the truth have become so skewed?
“I can show you Ytzal’s note. It’s at home, in my office.”
She shook her head, features hardening. “No. I’m not going back with
you. You’re a good liar, but I’m not buying it. Who says you didn’t forge the
letter? Whatever you’re after, you won’t get it from me. Your tricks won’t
work a second time.”
“When you died, I took out a loan, hired the best necromancers in this
realm, but no one could reach your soul. It was unlike anything they’d ever
heard of,” I choked out. “When they failed, I prayed to every God. I pleaded,
asked them to make a deal with me, to take me instead.
“That was the day I lost my faith, Kerys, because not a single one of
them answered. Not one. I offered my life. My wealth. I would have done
anything to save you, given anything to bring you back to me. I would have
murdered and ravaged, torn the desert asunder to have you in my arms
again.”
“Liar,” she hissed, an onslaught of emotions crossing her face.
Hate. Love. Horror. Disbelief.
 “I couldn’t live without you,” I mumbled, the words sizzling on my
tongue like hot iron. “When I realized you were truly gone forever, I rode
back to the ruins of our home, took my dagger from my belt and”—I pressed
my hand onto my chest, to that arrhythmic thudding—“pierced straight
through my heart.”
“You deserved worse,” Kerys spat.
Her hostile words drove a spear of ice between my ribs, yet I nodded.
I did deserve worse. Not for the reasons she thought, but for my failure
to protect her.
“As I lay, bleeding out, my pulse slowing, the final contraction a breath
away, the demon, Aculeus, came to me. I thought I was hallucinating, a
mass of thorns and swirling shadows surrounding me. He said he could save
us both. He offered to help me survive, make me more powerful, and bring
your soul back to this living realm.”
She scoffed. “And you accepted so you could find and torment me?
Break my heart? Kill me again? You must truly hate me!”
“No, I—”
She took another step back. “I’m leaving.” Another step. “And I never
want to see you agai—”
Her foot slipped at the edge of the roof. The dagger tumbled from her
hand as she yelped, falling backward.
Instinctively, a smooth vine shot from my hand. It snapped around her
waist, catching her, yanking her close against me.
For a second, she was stunned. Then she screamed, trying to land
another blow to my jaw, but I saw through the maneuver this time. I
grabbed her wrists, holding them behind her back.
“Let me go!” she wailed.
“No.”
I flipped her around, wrapping my arms around her, pressing her back
against my chest. My tail encircled her ankles, immobilizing her further, but
she didn’t stop writhing.
“You can’t force me to stay with you!” she shouted.
“Yes, I can. And I will, Kerys,” I stated calmly.
She kept struggling against me, and I released the second vine from my
other hand. This one wasn’t as harmless. I brought it close to her face,
making sure she got a good look at the large, black thorns, glistening with
poison. Finally, she froze.
“You’re confused,” I gritted out. “The spell must have gone wrong, but
we’ll figure it out together. You’re coming home with me nevertheless.”
Whatever had happened, it changed nothing. Keryssa was still my wife.
She belonged at my side.
“I will make your life torment, Skrain,” she hissed, venom in her tone,
but she didn’t dare to move with the thorns threatening her. “I will make
you regret this!”
 A dry laugh fell from my lips. “I’m counting on it, my priceless treasure.
Give me your worst, Kerys. I’d expect nothing less from you.”
The vine slithered along her neck, pressing in tight, injecting her with a
weak mixture of poison to make her sleep. Her muscles slackened. Head
lolling and eyes closing, she mumbled something else, no doubt no less vile
than her other comments.
My shoulders rose in a long sigh as I picked her up. Carrying her in one
arm, I shoved the dagger into my pack and grabbed it before skidding down
the side of the roof.
My jaw set as I walked to our horse.
For a century, I hadn’t given up on us. And I had no intention of giving
up now. She would see the truth, or I would make her see it. Whatever it
took. However long it took.
My wife had returned to me, and I wouldn’t let her escape me again—
even if she was to be my captive for the rest of her life.
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“Skrain, you piece of shit! Let me out!”
My voice was hoarse from screaming, my hands bruised from
hammering against the inside of the bedroom door. The bandage around my
palm donned a red stain, implying the wound from the ritual had started
bleeding again. This time, it seemed the few hours I was asleep from his
poison weren’t long enough to heal it.
Hot pressure built behind my eyes as I held back angry tears. I stomped
to the balcony door, yanking on the handle.
Locked, too.
“Damn.”
I shook my head. What would I have done, even if I got outside? Jump
from the Creators damned second floor? No, I wouldn’t do him the favor of
dying. I’d find a way to escape, and live—happily—just to fucking spite him.
I rolled my shoulders, trying to loosen that icy tightness crushing my
heart. One hand on my stomach, my breath hitched far too close to a sob.
How could he do this to me?
Bile surged in my throat as I thought about how Skrain made my pulse
race, how much I had craved his touch and his affection. How fast and hard
I had fallen for him.
Images of the wedding flashed in my mind. His tears. His vow. A
crimson print of his hand on my shoe. Then my death. A sanguine stain
tinting his tunic I wore while I bled out. While I burned.
I flinched. Sadness wouldn’t serve me. I didn’t have the luxury of
wallowing in my misery, of trying to count the pieces of my broken heart.
So long as I was Skrain’s prisoner, I was in danger. Who knew what
awful plans he had for me?
 Teeth gritted, I walked to the dresser and opened every drawer, digging
through them. Next, I rummaged through the wardrobe. I found nothing but
clothes—his and mine—spare towels and bed linen.
I scoffed, padding to the bed, and dropped onto the mattress. Cradling
my head in my hands, I stared at the ground, toes curling into the soft
carpet.
After waking alone in the mansion’s master bedroom—a replica of the
very place I’d died—I hadn’t given myself time to think about anything else
apart from Skrain’s betrayal. About escape.
But as I sat, defeated, it struck me how easily I’d shed my fake name,
like skin that never truly fit. Ella didn’t exist anymore—if she’d ever really
existed at all.
I had only reclaimed a fraction of my memories, but I felt like myself.
Like Keryssa.
Capable. Confident.
Though I didn’t remember what it was like to be dead, knowing I had
died once before made me see everything in a different light. I guessed I
should’ve felt heavy or melancholic, but instead, I wanted to grasp life with
both hands, soak up every moment—and that included escaping the gilded
cage Skrain put me in.
Being dead lets you live again.
And then there was that magic inside me, the subtle thrum beneath my
blood, ebbing and rising at my command. It was almost like a drug.
Euphoric.
I’d assumed that if my powers returned, I’d need a period of
readjustment. Maybe I’d feel overwhelmed. Or underwhelmed.
But the sensation was fulfilling. Just right, as if a part of me I didn’t
know was missing had been restored. As if my magic was never really gone,
only hiding until I was ready to wield it once more.
I felt complete.
An idea struck my mind like a lightning storm.
I yanked up my dress, pulling my panties aside. The rings in my nipples
and the piercing above my clit had been changed to pure gold. No gems.
Skrain had thought this through. He must have sensed the stirring
magic in me, and with my specialization in gem enchantments, I was a flight
risk if he’d left any jewels on my person or in the room.
I remembered that I was able to apply a few other enchantments on
objects made from metal and ore, like increasing the durability of armor
and sharpness of a blade, but at a much lower quality and efficiency. Either
way, I had nothing to help my escape. And even if I acquired some jewels,
most intricate spells needed more ingredients.
But there was something else I remembered.
My throat thickened.
The soulstone spell I’d found before I died.
 I’d enchanted plenty of normal soulstones in my past life, the kind that
imprisons mortal souls or harnesses and drains a demon’s magic until they
perish. But this one was a revolutionary concept.
The words … I knew they were there. They drifted just out of reach, my
fingertips brushing along the letters like a hidden treasure. Seeds buried
deep in the soil of my memories.
An ache built behind my forehead, and I pressed a palm to it.
I dug through my recollection of the visions. The moment I stormed into
the bedroom, the music box in my hands. How I’d gone to bed the night of
my death. Every syllable must have been fresh in my mind then.
All I needed was to grasp them.
As if hypnotized, I stood. My feet steered me to the chest of drawers, my
fingers sliding along the smooth wood of the music box. I opened it.
The spinning figures popped up, and the room around me wavered. I
couldn’t tear my eyes from them, going round and round and round. All I
could see were the dancers with their bright robes and gem-filled hands,
moving to the cheerful melody.
Each note was a bell strike inside my skull.
I listened, turning every piece of that vision over like a stone. The more
the fog of my memories lifted, the faster my pulse thundered.
The eternal silence of the faithful dead.
The royal blood of a broken heart.
An innocent man’s earnest guilt.
I stuttered a breath. That was it! These were—
“Keryssa,” a deep voice crooned.
I startled, snapping the box shut, and my mind catapulted back to the
present.
The light had dimmed, as if the rays of the setting sun bounced off a
gloomy cloud around the bed. A shiver working its frigid way down my
spine.
“Who’s there? Skrain, if that’s you, I’m not in the mood for games. Show
yourself so I can tear your Creators damned head off!”
“I think it’s time I introduced myself,” that same voice said, and the
obscure shadows floated to the door.
I rubbed my eyes as it took on a grotesque, humanoid shape.
Sharp thorns grew all over the creature’s body, glistening with green
venom as they writhed. Its arms and legs were too spindly and thin, just like
its clawed fingers. Its bald head was too large, and in place of a face, it had
a swirling vortex of umbral mass.
Nausea bubbled in my belly, the offensive reek of sulfur and wet, rotten
earth tingling in my nostrils. The longer I looked at the monster, the worse I
felt, dizziness hitting me like a punch to the jaw.
“I’m certain Skrain has spoken of me. The man likes to run his mouth,
after all,” the creature said, and though there was no way of telling, I simply
knew he was grinning. “Name’s Aculeus. Charmed, I’m sure.”
 His demon.
I resisted the urge to shrink as the hairs on the back of my neck rose.
Instead, I reminded myself of the first rule I’d learned when I began my
studies on demonology in my first life:
Don’t show fear.
Before my death, part of my spare time research had included minor
demonology, and while Zeridia didn’t outright forbid demonic magic, it was
strictly regulated by laws. Xar’vath, on the other hand, was a treasure trove
of free-flowing knowledge on the topic. I’d dealt with a couple of
summonings, imps, and a few other lesser spawns, but no one like Aculeus,
no one this powerful. His aura alone was oppressive, making it hard to
concentrate.
“So you’re the one who saved Skrain’s life?” I snorted, fighting against
the unease coiling through me as I crossed my arms.
He dipped into a slow bow. “Indeed.”
“Well, you shouldn’t have,” I spat.
Aculeus snickered, an abrasive rumble. He gestured at me. “I saved you,
too. Maybe you should be at least a little grateful.”
“You did an awful job if it took my soul this long to be reborn,” I
countered.
His head cocked, and I felt his invisible gaze scraping along my skin like
a cold, dull blade. “Who says that wasn’t part of my plan? Who do you think
kept your soul from the necromancers in Skrain’s employ?”
“I despise riddles. And vague insinuations.” I mimicked his movements,
tilting my head. “Let’s cut to the chase. Why have you decided to show
yourself to me?”
“I have just had a very enlightening talk with the man himself. Since he
locked you up, Skrain has been sitting out there at the pond, staring into
the water. He’s quite upset that you don’t want him anymore. Heartbroken,
really. He told me about your vision. How you said he stabbed you, insulted
you, set you aflame. In fact, he couldn’t stop talking about it. The man has
no shame. What audacity to slaughter you and then act like he is the
victim?”
My eyes burned, my stomach twisting. Typical for a demon to pour salt
into the wound. I buried the hurt in a deep frown and a sarcastic laugh.
Aculeus straightened, strolling through the room, a trail of whirling
shadows following in his wake. He picked at the sheets on the bed. Ran a
hand over the top of the dresser, along the incense dish, flicking ashes onto
the floor. “What was it again he told you before he burned you? That you
were only after his coin? That you were too … needy?”
I pressed my tongue against my palate, doing everything in my power to
keep my silence, even as anger and grief seared my insides. What a
violation to tell the demon everything about my vision in such detail.
Aculeus tutted, hands folded at his back as he looked out the window.
“Skrain was a monster even before our pact. To murder you in cold blood
while you were pining for him, even wearing his tunic so you could feel
closer to him while he was gone.”
I choked down a sob, blinking the mist from my gaze. “And your point
is?” I hissed.
“I think we have something important in common, Keryssa.” His voice
drifted into a long, dramatic pause until he turned to me. “Our hatred for
Skrain.”
I let out a hysteric giggle. “I don’t know what else he told you about me,
but I’m not naive. You don’t seem to hate him. If anything, you are his ally
because you gave him a part of your powers, extended his lifespan.”
Aculeus’s chin dropped. “Mortals always jump to conclusions. You lack
foresight, fail to acknowledge the bigger picture.”
“Selflessness is a foreign concept to demons. You wouldn’t be here if
you didn’t want something from me. So either say it, or leave me alone,” I
snapped.
He snickered, the sound like chittering bugs, sending another shudder
of goose bumps along my back. “I suppose you and him have something in
common, too. You’re both stubborn and temperamental.”
I pinched my lips, looking at him.
“First, let’s talk about what you want, Keryssa.” He gestured at the
desert beyond the window. “You want to leave here, right?”
I gave a curt nod.
“Say you do manage to flee. He will find you. He did it once, and he will
do it again. You can’t escape him.”
I gritted my teeth. “Let him try then.”
“Think of what he’s done to you,” Aculeus crooned. “Are you really
happy with flight? Is that good enough? Do you want to hide, be on the run
for the rest of your life?”
“If that’s what it takes to—”
“Don’t you want justice, instead?” he interrupted. “Don’t you want …
revenge?”
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Heat flared in my chest. My fingers curled, nails cutting into my palms.
“Revenge,” I whispered, trying on the word for size.
I hadn’t considered the possibility. Didn’t think I stood a chance against
Skrain. But Creators, the syllables were sweet as honey, sliding down my
throat like syrup.
Aculeus approached with slow steps, head cocking. I could sense his
eyes fixed on mine, the intensity of his invisible gaze making me want to
squirm.
“Don’t you hate him for what he’s done to you, Keryssa? As if killing you
once wasn’t bad enough … No. He had to have you again. Made you fall for
him with whispered promises and beautiful lies, just to break your heart
again. And now, you’re his prisoner. His fuckhole. Nothing more. There is
no telling what he has in store for you, but a man who waited a hundred
years to kill his victim twice over is beyond sick and perverted. Maybe death
was an easier fate, after all?”
My mouth dried. “What do you suggest?”
I knew the demon smiled as he continued speaking. “You see, by nature
I feed on suffering. It sustains me, makes me more powerful. You’re no
stranger to demons. You are aware of our wicked reputation, that all we do
is torment mortals for our own gain and entertainment.”
I scoffed. “So, you even admit it yourself.”
“Yes, though not all of us are only bad, and you do need an ally. I gain
power from causing anguish, from devouring tormented souls, but I use my
abilities to punish those who do evil in this realm. And who would be more
deserving of such torture than Skrain?”
 Aculeus stopped in front of me and laid a few fingers on my shoulder.
My heart slammed in my chest, my instincts rioting, telling me to run, but I
stood firm, clenching my jaw as I looked up at him.
“A demon who dishes out vigilante justice?” I asked, unable to keep the
disbelief from my voice.
“He was the perfect target for me, Keryssa. A man who killed his own
wife, the only woman who ever loved him as he is, accepted all his rage and
bloodlust. And he was a recreant wimp, too, taking his own life when he
realized what he’d done. If you doubted your vision, his attempted suicide is
the clearest admission of guilt.”
“I … I know,” I whispered.
“Did he tell you what the condition for my help was?”
I shook my head, and the demon purred with malicious joy.
“He paid the highest price of all. Mortals always think giving one’s life is
the ultimate sacrifice, pah. But in truth, nothing is worse than an existence
without feeling. Death is a coward’s punishment, the easy way out. Endless
suffering, now that … that is poetic, delicious justice, don’t you think?”
I blinked. “You stole his emotions?”
“Not quite. I took the positive ones, the ones that make life worth living.
Empathy. Compassion. Kindness. Joy. Even love.” He paused, hissing
laughter escaping him. “I left him with rage. Shame. Fear. Guilt. Envy and
disgust. Our deal was that he’d never feel love or happiness again until he
found you. You were quite literally the piece that made him whole.”
My lips trembled.
Creators. Skrain meant it when he said his heart had become hard and
cold. I quickly shoved away the sympathy tightening my ribs.
“Cases like Skrain’s are rare,” Aculeus continued. His head lowered, and
the stench of sulfur choked me as he leaned in. “Most mortals can’t bear the
dolor this long, choosing to end their lives after all. But not him. Knowing
you were still out there kept him going, tethered to this realm. I cultivated
his anguish for a century, letting him steep in misery.”
I squinted. “You’re trying to say you helped him only to ruin him in the
end?”
The demon nodded. “To enjoy unraveling the cloth, one must first spin
the thread. I helped him build a life so I could take it from him. Skrain’s
suffering has aged well, like vintage wine, if you’d like a rather lacking,
mortal comparison. If I devour his soul, it has the potential to give me
greater power than I ever possessed.”
“Why would I care and why would I trust you? You still haven’t told me
why you’re giving me all this information, either,” I said, tone clipped.
“Admittedly, I have not been the kindest to you, and you have ample
reason to doubt me. I confess I had to lead your soul astray and hide you
from Skrain’s agents in order to execute the first, prolonged stage of his
punishment. I also apologize for making your mother—in this life—sick, but
your father needed a nudge to give in to his vices and ruin himself. Skrain
had to find you in a desperate state to drive him closer to the edge.”
My heart froze. Seconds ticked by. I almost didn’t realize he was talking
about my, no, Ella’s family.
Since I’d come to Xar’vath with Skrain, my life as Ella and my time in
the brothel seemed far away, far enough to forget. My attachments, even
my parents seemed like faceless placeholders now, a dream I was caught in
to keep me from being who I was supposed to be. Maybe that carelessness,
that ease in forgetting made me a bad person, but I didn’t give a damn.
All the worries, the grief, and the suffering had been washed away by
this new beginning with Skrain—by this old, new love. A love I didn’t know I
had, a love I gained and then lost again in the blink of an eye.
“If you expect me to accept your apology, you can wait until the Hells
burn up,” I said, turning to the window to hide the tears welling up as I
thought of Skrain.
“Demons don’t care about forgiveness, Keryssa. I want you to work with
me. Before I devour his soul, I want to bestow the greatest humiliation on
Skrain. The climax of his punishment. I can taunt and mock him, but there
is only one person who can truly wound him. Who knows how to hit him
harder than you?”
My brows rose. Adrenaline pumped through me. I pulled away and sat
down on the bed, grabbing a glass of lukewarm water from the nightstand. I
took slow sips, biding my time before I answered.
“A binding? No. I’m not foolish enough to make that commitment.”
Aculeus shook his head, taking a step back. “Not a pact written in blood.
A simple alliance. A trade.”
I kept my expression neutral, but confusion flashed through me. This
entire deal must have been extraordinarily important to the demon if he was
willing to settle on anything less than a pact.
My eyes slitted as I swirled the water. “A trade for what?”
“You act like you’re sorry, seduce him. Make him believe you love him.
Then you reveal that everything was fake, and at the moment of his greatest
anguish, I will come and kill him for you. After he’s gone, I will assist you in
claiming every coin, every gold bullion, and every jewel he has hidden away.
He is far wealthier than even you know. And I believe you deserve some
compensation for your misery. No more money troubles. You’d be rich.”
Disgust laid sour on my tongue as I imagined having to play Skrain’s sex
toy again, but my pussy clenched.
Why did my body have to be such a damn traitor?
“Your offer isn’t good enough,” I stated.
“Then name your price, Kerysssa.”
“After he is dead, I want you as my enforcer. I want to take over every
single venture he owns, and I know his Xar’vathi business partners won’t be
happy to deal with an Elf. You will be the one to … convince them. When I
have acquired all his wealth, in assets as well as coin, gold, and jewels, our
trade is complete.”
Aculeus growled. “That’s a lot to ask. I’m not a dog that bites at a
mortal’s command. You better have something more to offer me in return.”
The spark of an idea set my mind ablaze. There was one invaluable
bargaining chip only I held.
“What if I could do better than just breaking his heart before he dies?” I
asked, a grin tugging at my mouth. “What if you could trap his soul instead
of devouring it? What if I could preserve it for you, let you feed on it for all
eternity?”
Aculeus’s laughter skittered along my skin. “Well, well, would you look
at that? Little Keryssa has secrets of her own.”
I ignored his patronizing remark. Courtesy and respect weren’t things to
expect from a demon, but maybe he could be a temporary ally.
“The demonic taint inside Skrain means a normal soulstone won’t hold
him, and the ones used for demons would eventually consume what’s left of
him,” I continued. “But I know of a way to create a stone strong enough to
bind him, keep his soul alive and make him your slave for as long as it
pleases you.”
“Bravo, Keryssa. I didn’t think you were such an evil mastermind.”
Aculeus clapped slowly. “I’m intrigued. If you agree to make one of those
special stones for me, I’ll fulfill your requests. You’ll be the richest woman
on the continent in no time.”
As tempting as his offer was, I would’ve been a fool to agree in the spur
of the moment. I had to consider a method to safeguard my interests,
ensure he wouldn’t turn on me. Demons weren’t exactly the honest sort,
especially without a pact binding them to the rules stated in it.
“I’m glad my offer agrees with you, but I still need to think about it,” I
said.
A key clicked in the lock.
Aculeus snickered. “Don’t make me wait too long.”
I jumped up, water splashing from the glass, wetting my feet. “Wait!” I
whispered. “How can I call you?”
He broke a black, needle-like thorn from his body, holding it out to me.
“Prick your finger with this.”
I took it with my free hand, hurrying to the dresser, and hid it beneath
my spare undergarments. When I turned, the demon was gone. So was the
oppressive darkness.
I sneered as the door swung open and Skrain entered. He locked up
behind him, tucking the key into his pocket.
He stood by the entrance and regarded me with a tired smile, his eyes
red as if he’d cried. “Kerys, it doesn’t have to be like this. You don’t have to
stay confined to a single room like a prisoner. I could make our life together
very pleasant for you. I just want a chance to talk, to explain.”
 Fury descended upon me like a thick, red blanket, clouding my vision.
And my judgment.
“Explain?” I shouted. “What the fuck could you possibly say to explain
everything away?”
I reared my arm back and hurled the glass at him. Water splattered over
his face and tunic as it hit him in the head, shattering, glittering shards
falling at his feet.
More frustration blazed through me—this time directed at myself.
Creators, why was I like this? So ill-tempered, so driven by my feelings?
If I wanted to ally with Aculeus, I needed to get my emotions in check.
But as I watched Skrain dabbing at droplets of dark green blood trickling
from a gash in his brow, I only felt sorry I didn’t hit him harder. Didn’t
break his lie-riddled skull.
“I see you’re still angry.” His voice was dangerously low, and a shudder
wound up my spine like his stupid vines. A sinister smirk curled his lips as
he licked the emerald liquid off his digits. “Fine. If you want to fight, my
darling wife, I’ll have to fuck the defiance out of you.”
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Skrain lunged.
He swiped at the front of my nightdress, catching it at the collar. A rip
sounded. The thin silk straps snapped, and he tore the garment from my
body, tossing it aside.
“That was one of my favorites!” I yelled, lashing out at him, but he
dodged my imprecise, rage-guided strike.
“I know,” he bit back. “I’ll fucking buy you a new one, you damn brat!”
He grabbed my arm, twisting it behind my back. Then the other. My
shoulder joints ached. I kicked at his shin, stomped on his foot, but he took
every blow with the annoying ass patience of a stoic saint, and damn me, I
kind of liked it. I liked that he took my anger, that I could let it all out on
him, didn’t have to hold back. But before I’d let him find out, I’d rather have
cut out my tongue.
“What are you doing?” I shouted, more an accusation, not truly a
question.
Skrain pushed me forward onto the bed, my ass perched at the edge of
the thick, bouncy mattress, my bare toes skimming the rug.
“I already told you, Kerys. I’m going to fuck you,” he grunted. “You have
a serious issue with listening to me. But don’t worry. Soon the only thing
you’ll have to hear is your own voice, begging for my cock while I make you
come.”
A wave of need surged through my core.
Holding me down with a knee on my back, he reached for the closest
wrist shackle affixed to the metal finials of the headboard. I wanted to
resist, but it felt as if my shoulder would dislocate if I tried to stop him from
moving my left arm above my head.
 With expert finesse, he fastened the cuff around my left wrist, and deep
down, I knew exactly where he’d gotten the experience. Why the feeling
was so familiar.
Back in my first life, when I was his wife, we’d spent countless hours of
pleasure in a room looking exactly like this. Me, first playfully resisting and
fighting back, then tied up and helpless. Him, capturing and binding me,
then lavishing sweet torment upon me.
Skrain reached for one of the ankle shackles attached to the wrought
iron footboard and used it on my right wrist. When he was done, I was lying
on my belly, my arms spread wide toward each end of the bed.
He rose, and my head whipped around to glare at him. Devious heat
pulsed between my legs, but I refused to acknowledge it.
This man had murdered me, and I was still getting turned on by him.
What the Hells was wrong with me?
Skrain yanked off my damp panties, my foot striking his chest when he
came close, but he didn’t even lose his breath.
“You have no right to do this,” I hissed. “I don’t want you!”
He tutted, sliding a finger along my wet slit. Pleasure aches built inside
me, and he pressed against my entrance.
“You say you don’t want me, but your body is a far worse liar than you.
Your soaked cunt tells me the truth.” He dipped a digit into me, and I
suppressed a moan. “You want me, Kerys. Admit it.”
I groaned in rage, and he responded with a cruel snicker. From my
periphery, I watched him pull the black leather belt from his trousers. My
eyes went wide.
“Are you going to strangle me now? Kill me again like it was your damn
plan all along?”
He gave another sharp laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous, my darling wife. If I
wanted you dead, you wouldn’t have left the party. You’re no match for my
strength. You couldn’t have stopped me back then, and you can’t stop me
now. But you love that, don’t you? Feeling vulnerable, at my mercy.”
A blaze of arousal lit up my insides.
How despicable to know my killer could read me like this, knew exactly
how to use my perverted desires against me, to humiliate me with them.
He gripped the ends of the belt, forming a loop with it, the buckle
hidden in his fist. With a grin on his face, he raised his hand, bringing it
back down. The smooth leather met his palm in a fierce snap, and he let out
a satisfied hum.
My breath caught when I realized what he’d planned. “Don’t you dare
use that on me, you bastard!”
He sauntered toward the bed, tail flicking as he weighed the belt in his
grasp. His free hand slithered into my hair, yanking my head back until it
hurt.
 “You clearly have a lot of frustration to let out, and I’m going to help you
do just that. Maybe some pain will help you come to your damn senses and
listen to me!” he growled.
He let go, my face plunging into the soft bed. When the leather hit my
bare ass, I was grateful for the duvet muffling my scream.
It was as if someone set fire to my skin.
He didn’t count. Didn’t speak. Didn’t give a warning when the next
strike fell on my other rear cheek, then the next. The next. Alternating.
Again. Once more. Another.
My tears wet the blanket as I bit down on the fabric.
Each strike felt worse than the last. Soon, I couldn’t think straight from
agony—and from lust.
I laid shaking, a sheen of sweat covering my body. Adrenaline coursed
through my blood.
My pussy convulsed with every hit, weeping onto the mattress. The
piercings in my nipples sent licks of thunder to my sex when I jerked, and
the stud above my clit rubbed the nerves until they throbbed.
“Is this what you want? Do you want me to hurt you?” Skrain gritted out,
the belt striking me just below the ass on my right thigh, and my back
arched as I wailed. “Is that why you have to be such a brat? Why you have
to defy me at every damn turn?”
“I hate you!” I sobbed.
Snap.
The back of my left thigh stung.
“No, Kerys. You don’t hate me. You fucking love me, just like I love you!”
I couldn’t get the words out, couldn’t make myself respond. Couldn’t
deny, couldn’t admit.
No. Yes.
I can’t.
I shouldn’t.
He threw the belt away, the buckle clanking as it hit the floor. I heard
the shuffling of cloth, and when I glanced over my shoulder, I saw his
erection springing from the front slit of his trousers. The heat of his body
radiated against my legs as he stepped between them and bent over me.
“You don’t just stop loving someone from one day to the next. We have a
bond! We’re fated!” he shouted, but there was more than anger in his voice.
Desperation.
The head of his cock drew along my slit, coating himself in the flow of
my wetness. My hips bucked, my self-control broken. I couldn’t stop
shivering in anticipation of him filling me.
I cursed myself for it, but I needed Skrain to fuck me. I needed to feel
him inside me more than I needed to breathe.
“You still want me, my darling wife,” he whispered, placing ravenous
kisses on the side of my face. “Deep down, you know the truth. You know I
didn’t kill you. You know it.”
 With one, heavy thrust, he pushed himself into me. I almost came from
the delicious stretch and the light burn, from his piercings grinding inside,
hitting the most exquisite spots. Moaning, I clawed at the blankets as my
pussy gripped around him.
He pulled back and began pounding into me relentlessly. Each rock of
his hips had our bodies meeting, skin slapping, my ass tender from the
belting. I made sounds I never had before. Panting. Yelping. Groaning.
Whimpering.
“Y-you’re my enemy,” I choked out.
Skrain’s laughter was cold. “You want me to play your enemy? Are you
sure about that?”
He pulled away, leaving me empty to loosen the shackles and turn me on
my back. Earlier, I might have resisted, but I was too worn out now. I
whined as he dragged me further onto the bed, my sore rear sliding
painfully along the duvet.
He positioned himself between my legs again. His digits dug hard into
my thighs as he lifted them up to his hips. Using his tail as guidance, he
steered his dick to my pussy, stopping as he pressed against the entrance.
His tail slithered to my face, nudging my chin.
“Look up in the mirror, Kerys,” he commanded. “I want you to watch
yourself get fucked by your enemy.”
My gaze snapped up, my pulse hitching. The mirror above the bed—I
had forgotten about it.
I covered my face with my palms, but Skrain’s disapproving growl made
me flinch.
“That was an order from your master,” he gritted out. “And you better
follow it right fucking now, or I’ll use a knife to carve a lesson in obedience
into your flesh. Look. In. The. Mirror.”
Biting my lip until I tasted a tang of copper, I dropped my arms. I
couldn’t swallow the shame tightening my throat as I studied my rosy
cheeks, my wide, teary eyes. His formidable cock twitching between my
legs.
Slowly, he slid inside me, making me watch inch after inch disappearing
into my pussy. He increased his tempo, bit by bit, and I fluttered around
him, my lust soaring.
“Is this how you treat all your enemies?” He could barely speak between
thrusts, the bed shaking. “Do you let all your enemies fuck you like this?
Does your cunt get this wet for all of them?”
Chaos ruled my mind, and my body was under his command … but I
couldn’t look away from our reflections.
Watching myself get ravished by him was the hottest view I’d ever had.
My breasts bounced with his movements, nipple rings gleaming. His
massive shaft spread my folds, shining with my arousal, and the gilded ball
above my swollen clit glittered.
 “Do you see how beautiful you are?” Skrain brought out. “Do you see
how your body reacts to me? It’s mine to control. If I want, I can make you
come right now.”
He angled his thrusts higher and laid one hand on my lower belly,
pressing gently as he continued fucking me.
An earthquake of a climax ripped through me.
Tiny stars exploded in front of my eyes, but I kept staring into the
mirror.
To watch my legs shake as tingles swept through me, to see myself
writhing in pleasure, face twisting, mouth agape … I almost finished once
more.
“I hate you,” I moaned.
Skrain let out a half-groan, half-snicker. “Another,” he whispered,
fingers playing with my clit hood piercing. “I know you’re close, and my wife
never finishes only once. Come again for your master, come around the cock
of the man you hate. I want you squeezing me while I empty my seed into
you.”
I tried to resist, but I couldn’t.
The pressure built inside me. Unstoppable. Rising, rising.
Crashing.
Stomach lurching as if I was back on that stupid moving platform in his
warehouse, my cunt rippled around his shaft.
I erupted.
My release gushed onto the mattress, onto his trousers, his chest, the
bed. I threw my head back, swept away by the intensity of my climax.
The smoothness of Skrain’s thrusts turned arrhythmic. He jerked and
drove deep into me, eyes shutting. His cock throbbed as he filled me until
his cum flowed from me, joining the stains of my tears and my wetness on
the bed.
Skrain glanced down, a small smile curling his lips while he panted.
“Damn, I love when you drench me, come all over me. The squirting wasn’t
a one-time thing then, on stage.” His hand caressed along my cheek, and
with my last strength, I slapped it away.
It wasn’t lost on me how ironic that gesture of rejection was, given that
his dick was buried to the hilt inside my pussy, and I’d enjoyed myself far
too much. Nobody had ever made me squirt, not even once. Before him, I
didn’t even know I could do that.
“I need a bath and the bed needs fresh sheets,” I mumbled, but he only
pulled me closer.
“In a while. Hold on,” he responded and rolled over, tugging me atop his
chest, fully into his arms.
I grumbled, more at myself for letting him get away with cuddling. But
his embrace was so comfortable, made me feel so safe, despite everything.
Quite obviously, I needed to get my head checked.
“I still despise you,” I hissed. “And I still don’t believe you.”
 “Then I suppose there’s only one solution,” he said, running a hand up
and down my back, massaging.
I stifled a yawn. “Yes, you’ll admit your guilt, apologize, give me all your
money, and let me go.”
He paused to click his tongue dramatically. “Wrong. You’ll stay my
captive, and I’ll keep fucking you until you understand how much I love you.
You’ll be my prisoner until you realize the truth, my darling wife.”
OceanofPDF.com
I
extinguished my cigarette in the crystal ashtray on the windowsill,
leaving it to smolder next to the other fresh stubs. My hand drifted to my
face, rubbing along my clenched jaw. I stared out into the nocturnal
desert, the moon casting a sickly glow across the dunes.
Kerys’s scent still lingered in my nose. Her pained cries and sweet
moans echoed in my ears.
Blood flowed to my cock, but I forced down the urge to return to the
bedroom and do it all over again. Do her all over again.
Next time I really would’ve brought my knife.
I patted my cheeks and blew out a breath, trying to focus. I could have
spent the rest of eternity buried in her cunt, but I’d done my lonesome
brooding, and then I’d let out some frustration alongside my wife.
Now, she needed to rest—and I needed to figure this shit out.
I tried lying down in one of the spare guest rooms, but couldn’t bring
myself to sleep without her, my thoughts racing. Something about the
assassination attempt on her and those warped memories stunk like a
bloated corpse roasting in the sun.
I strode to the desk and dropped into the upholstered chair in front of it.
The ritual manual from Dr. Mavix still laid open, and I skimmed the text
again. Just like the other times, I found I’d made no mistake reciting or
executing the spell.
Everything went perfect. We were alone at the site, no one there to
interfere.
But then why? Why did Kerys see me as her murderer?
I was a butcher and a scoundrel. A thief of treasure and coin. An
opportunist and a liar. A charmer. I was a villain, by all means.
But by the Gods, I wasn’t a wife killer.
 I took up my gilded cigarette case from the table and slipped out a fresh
roll of tobacco, lighting it with the last match from the matchbook in my
pocket before tossing it into a bin by the desk.
Puffing smoke rings above my head, I leaned back.
I had no doubt Kerys told me the truth about her vision. She might have
withheld some information in her panic, but what she did share was what
she believed to be fact.
I rhythmically clicked my tongue stud against my teeth, frowning.
If I hadn’t made a mistake with the ritual and she’d been forthright,
there must’ve been a third player in this game, pulling the strings from the
shadows.
I hadn’t seen anyone at the ritual site. But who said that meant no one
was there?
My eyes widened and my tail flicked into action.
I had been distracted, my focus on Kerys and the spell. And if someone
used magic to disguise themselves, they could have slipped past my
attention.
A quiet knock sounded at the door, and I took a long drag before
answering, smoke streaming from my mouth when I did.
“Come in.”
Emily stuck her head into the room, smiling. “Is now a good time to
talk?”
I gestured toward the center of the chamber. She nudged the door fully
open with her foot, then closed it again the same way, a silver tray
occupying her hands. A groan escaped me as she jutted her chin out at the
ritual manual. I closed the book and stashed it away in my pack under the
table while she set the tray down on the remaining random papers littered
across the desk.
“You’ve not eaten since last night in the garden, and I took the liberty of
preparing a light meal,” she said and took the cloche from the plate. “A
bottle of wine, too. Dry red, your current favorite.”
I exhaled a sigh, glancing at cubes of meat in rich gravy, accompanied
by a side of roasted greens and a serving of rice. “You know I don’t have to
eat as frequently as mortals.”
Emily shrugged and walked to the window. She retrieved the ashtray,
emptying it into the bin before putting it on the table. “I still think it would
make you feel better. Home-cooked meals are always a comfort.”
I grunted but stubbed the cigarette out and took up the fork while Emily
poured a drink for me.
“Did you take care of Kerys first?” I asked.
Emily clasped her hands behind her back. “Yes, I followed your orders to
the letter. First, I helped her bathe and dress the welts on her rear,
applying the herbal ointment as you instructed—to ease the pain, not erase
it. Then I brought her dinner. The same meal you’re having, followed by a
dessert of nougat and tea with a splash of milk and one spoonful of sugar.”
 My fork hovered over the meat as I looked up at Emily, my stomach
hardening. “How was she?”
“She seemed well. Angry, but physically hale.”
“And the rune?” I asked. “She was still asleep when I left, but I gave her
a low dosage of poison to ensure she wouldn’t wake while you worked on
her.”
“I don’t believe she even knows I cast it on her while she was
unconscious,” Emily said and ran a hand along her nape, tapping a spot
hidden beneath her brown hair. “I masked the spell signature and chose a
place she physically wouldn’t be able to see on her own, right on the back of
her neck next to a beauty spot.”
My stomach flipped at the mention of the star-shaped beauty mark and
how often I’d kissed it.
“Using your blood and hers in the bond will have the desired effect,”
Emily explained. “Should she stray further than a mile from you, debilitating
pain will disable her.”
My heart pinched. I didn’t like hurting Kerys, but I would’ve done
anything to keep her with me.
“It won’t cause her permanent harm?” I asked.
“No permanent damage. Just horrible agony that will make her pass
out.”
“Good job, Emily. As always,” I said, and she smiled.
I enjoyed working with Emily.
Years back, she was supposed to be a one-time contact, hired to cast a
spell to enfeeble a business competitor through blood magic, but her skills,
reliability, and discreet methods had led me to offer her a permanent
position. Before I knew her, I didn’t believe hemomancy could be this
varied, ranging from blood bonds tethering souls, to healing, or even
curses.
Officially, she was just the head maid, and indeed, she directed the rest
of the staff. She also cared for important guests, seeing to it that the
household ran smoothly, but behind that façade, she was my most trusted
confidant. My right hand.
Her youthful appearance—any hint at her real age, which lay far beyond
fifty, undone by blood magic—often had targets misjudging her as naive.
And her friendly, patient disposition made most people enjoy her company.
It made them trust her, get chatty and let their guard down, which was
exactly the point.
Especially when her jobs included more covert tasks like industrial
espionage. Information gathering. The subtle, friendly art of interrogation
through companionship or seduction.
Emily possessed a wealth of medical knowledge, too, and in combination
with her spells, she’d tended to my wounds more than a few times. Some
injuries, even my faster-than-mortal healing couldn’t handle without help.
 I skewered a piece of dark meat and put it between my teeth. It was
horse, but slow cooked and tender, full of earthy flavor, perfect with the
herbal, creamy taste of gravy. I took another bite when Emily cleared her
throat, making me look up from my plate.
Her hands smoothed over her apron, then intertwining at her belly, her
head cocking. “May I speak freely?”
I waved a hand. “Go on.”
“The other maids and members of staff might not realize this because
they have never seen what’s inside your locket. I never would have pried,
and that time I caught you asleep in the living room with it hanging open
was an accident—but I still know. I recognized her the moment I looked
through the brothel’s catalog, and she matches the description you gave me
as your ideal type, the kind of woman to look for.” She drew invisible
quotation marks into the air.
I glared at her, but Emily didn’t crumple under my gaze like most people
did. She just smiled again, the tug of her lips full of kindness.
“I don’t know who that woman in the picture is, and it’s not my place to
judge why you have been searching for anyone looking like her,” she
continued. “But it doesn’t take a genius to tell that she’s important to you,
and Ella is the spitting image of that woman—or should I say Keryssa, as
you’ve been calling her.”
I growled, rolling my eyes as my tail lashed.
Fucking Hells. I’d really hoped she had forgotten seeing the portrait
inside the locket.
Emily knew many things about me no other mortal did—more than
anyone else apart from Kerys, actually. Though she hadn’t met Aculeus and
didn’t know exactly how our pact came to be, she was aware of the powers
it gave me. It never scared her.
She was content working for me and solving the challenges my requests
presented her with, the handsome wage an added benefit for the mutual
respect we shared. I had no reason to doubt her loyalty. But shit, I rather
would’ve kept this to myself. Probably something to do with the shame and
guilt about Kerys’s death eating away at my guts like maggots.
Emily didn’t need to see me defeated, hopeless, broken. As much as I
considered her a friend, as much as someone like me could have a friend,
I’d never taken the mask off in front of her. Never let her see the darkest,
most desperate parts of me.
“I suppose what I’m trying to say is that if you need help, I’m at your
service as always, sir,” Emily said, inclining her head. “And if you need
someone to lessen the burden of whatever is weighing on you, I will happily
lend an ear. Or a spell.”
My chest heaved with a deep breath. “Noted.”
Lips pinched, she nodded again.
 “What about the autopsies? Did you find anything interesting?” I asked
before continuing my meal. The food was indeed making me feel a tiny bit
better, making it easier to think.
Just like now, Emily was often infuriatingly correct. Frequently, she
reminded me of the hazy memories I still had of my mother. When I was still
a pure mortal, I never would have guessed how fast our minds forgot, and
by now, when I thought of my mother, it was often Emily’s face popping into
my mind. A ridiculous notion, given how much older I was.
“I completed the dissections this morning while you were out with
Keryssa.” Her expression darkened. “Actually, I’d prefer if you came down
to my laboratory and had a look before I influence your judgment with my …
theories.”
I swallowed a big bite of rice, meat, and vegetables. “That doesn’t sound
good, Emily,” I said, already making to get up, but she chuckled.
She reached across the desk to set a hand on my shoulder. “Sit down.
The bodies aren’t going anywhere. You might as well finish your meal.”

The scent of iron and herbs thickened the air.

My shoulders rolled. The windowless chamber felt too small, a strange
cold oozing from the walls, and the small fireplace with a cauldron hanging
over it was unlit. Dull jars full of spell ingredients lined ceiling-high, chaotic
shelves. Some had labels reading things like ground bones or virgin’s hair,
others were mercifully unlabeled, their contents mushy, different shades of
green or brown or red. Books were stuffed in between them, covers bent
and stained or faded with age.
I didn’t come down into the basement often. This twisted mixture of a
witch’s lair and a hospital room was Emily’s domain. I had it built after she
started working for me full time, providing her with a space to experiment
and research to her heart’s content.
I dropped the scalpel onto the maroon-stained, wooden examination
table, and looked to Emily, who stood on the other side.
“You’re the back-alley surgeon and resident expert on anatomy, but I
can’t find any proof of magical abilities in her.” I waved a bloodied hand
along Lara’s gaping chest cavity, held open by a metal spreading tool. “The
organs are pristine. None of the extensive but harmless micro-
crystallization a mortal caster would show once they reach middle age. She
can’t have woven the spell to create the simulacrum. Making one is fucking
difficult anyway, especially a construct that speaks.”
Emily hummed. I interpreted the noise as agreement.
She strode to the shelves, rising on her tiptoes while she picked out a
green bottle with a cork stopper. Her head cocked as she held it up.
“Remember this?”
 I groaned. “It’s unlabeled, and you have a million bottles and potions
down here. Enlighten me, please.”
“Then do you recall the very first time I patched you up? When I hadn’t
advanced my studies enough to heal that nasty gash on your chest with my
hemomancy alone, and you needed stitches?”
My brows drew together. “What about it?”
“I used the same recipe, a mixture of herbs and alcohol to disinfect my
hands and your wound, but you sprouted little”—she waggled the fingers on
her free hand—“writhing vines. It was an interesting way to find out about
your powers.”
I huffed, resisting the urge to run a hand along the heating back of my
neck. “That. Yes, I recall.”
Emily walked to the copy of Lara—or what was left of it—laid out on a
second surgical table behind me. I turned and grimaced at the shriveled
heap of misshapen bones and gooey, black flesh. It wasn’t every day one got
a close look at a simulacrum, even a dead specimen. After the events at my
birthday celebration I had read up about them, and its rapid, strange decay
was a textbook case.
“When I finished Lara’s autopsy, I wanted to clean my hands before
diving into my analysis of the copy. A few drops of the herbal solution
dripped onto the simulacrum and …”
She tipped the bottle. A thin stream of pungent solution flowed from it,
right onto the darkened remains. The flesh sizzled and smoked. And
writhed.
I froze. My breath halted.
Where the liquid touched, tiny vines grew from the carcass. They
undulated and lashed, reaching for the ceiling before they collapsed into
mush.
“I think you see what I mean,” Emily said.
A pounding in my ears, I pulled my lips into a sneer. “Fuck!” I banged
my fist onto the table, the cadaver jiggling.
The same reaction meant the same source of magic.
“At first, I thought you had created—” Emily began.
I gripped the scalpel I’d used on Lara and hurled it at her. The blade hit
her in the upper arm, and she winced slightly, otherwise keeping her
composure.
“Don’t even finish that sentence,” I bit out, my voice a shaky growl.
“Don’t even imply I would harm Kerys, or I’ll aim for your eye next time.”
The head maid clicked her tongue like a disappointed parent, pulling the
scalpel from the wound. Beneath the split fabric, the cut closed almost
instantly.
Damn hemomancy.
“With all due respect, Skrain, sir, if you had let me finish, we could have
saved ourselves this needless outburst. I would have told you that I have
seen how you look at Keryssa and that I am convinced you wouldn’t hurt
her. In all my time with you, I have never witnessed you caring about
anyone, have never seen the sparkle of any emotion besides anger or hatred
in your gaze. In truth, I often doubted if you possessed any other feelings.”
She laid the scalpel on the table and picked at her damaged dress,
rolling her eyes while she pinched the cloth between two fingers as if she
wished it would grow back together like the gash had.
“But that aside,” she continued, looking at me. “Based on the
information I possess about your pact, that leaves one possible culprit.”
Indeed.
“Yes, I think I know who helped Lara,” I ground out.
It felt as if I was boiling from the inside, as if my blood was going to
explode, tear me into shreds of flesh and thorns splattered across the
basement walls.
The magical signature had been well hidden. Emily didn’t sense it
before, and neither had I. But now that I knew what I was searching for, I
perceived a faint trail of power emanating from the simulacrum.
Maybe I could only feel it because it was familiar. So fucking familiar it
almost could’ve been my own.
I gripped the edge of the examination table as I met Emily’s eyes. My
tail swung wildly, vines creeping from my palms, writhing like vengeful
serpents.
The syllables of the name budding on my tongue were sour like poison,
and I spat them out like a curse.
“Aculeus.”
OceanofPDF.com
I n the stillness of night, the ripping of fabric seemed as loud as a strike of
thunder.
My gaze snapped to the door while I yanked the last panel of
salvageable cloth from the curtain rods and tied it to the other curtains and
sheets I’d found in the bottom drawer of the dresser.
Despite the bad memories of my demise, I loved this room and it
saddened me to destroy any part of it. Like most of the furnishings in the
house, I vaguely remembered picking everything out myself—or rather its
exact predecessors. Whatever else I thought of Skrain, it was true that he
had always been generous.
My heart hung like a millstone around my neck, the throbbing pain
across my rear a reminder of the violent passion we shared earlier.
I blushed, trying to tell myself that I had only fallen asleep in his arms
afterward because I was exhausted. Not because precisely that exhaustion
allowed my racing mind to quieten, letting me feel nothing but the comfort
of his heat, the calming beat of his pulse, the even stream of his breath.
I shook my head, dragging the makeshift rope to the balcony. As I
opened the doors, a gentle night breeze flitted over my face, and I stepped
outside to fasten one end of the knotted cloth to the balustrade.
When Emily woke me to help me wash and care for the welts on my ass,
I’d asked her to unlock the balcony. To my surprise, she had agreed that I
needed some fresh air. I hadn’t thought her that gullible. Maybe she simply
didn’t consider me stupid or desperate enough to attempt an escape from
up here, but I was determined.
Or was I?
Heart pounding, I leaned over the railing. It was a horribly long way
down into the empty, lantern-lit garden. Intrusive thoughts flashed in my
mind, images of my twisted body, bones sticking from my broken skin as I
laid in a pool of blood. It would be a pity to stain the lovely mosaic.
Hands shaking, I checked the knot once more, leaning all my weight into
it before tossing the length of rope down.
I squinted. It almost reached to the ground, a small drop remaining.
Short of dresses, tunics and trousers, I had nothing more, so this would’ve
had to suffice.
I swallowed hard.
Hopefully.
I hiked up my loose dress and slid a boot into the curling metal
ornaments of the railing, holding on while I swung one leg over. I straddled
the balustrade, forcing myself to keep looking at the house.
Just don’t look down.
Don’t.
I found a foothold and swung the other leg over.
Look.
My hands were getting clammy.
Down.
As if my eyes were drawn by an overpowering, magnetic force, I looked
down, and vertigo hit me.
Creators, hanging on this side of the railing was entirely different from
appreciating the impressive view from safety.
I shifted my feet, knees quaking. With bated breath, I reached for the
rope, when my other hand slipped on the smooth wood. My body tilted
backward, as if I wasn’t a part of it anymore, as if I had no command over
my limbs.
My heart forgot how to beat.
I lashed out, flailing, trying to grip the balustrade or the rope—and
missed.
My stomach jumped.
I fell.
A scream surged in my throat, but before it could sound, I was yanked to
a halt.
I hung, pathetically dangling upside down just below the balcony. Blood
and shame pooled hot in my face. Something was wrapped around my
ankle, a smooth vine—not green like Skrain’s, but pitch-black—and another
slithered around my waist, hoisting me back up to safety before putting me
on my feet.
Trembling from adrenaline, I braced myself against the railing as I
followed the dark appendages to their owner’s hand.
“Aculeus,” I squawked.
The demon dipped his head and let go of me with a hissing snicker.
“Thank you,” I mumbled, brushing imaginary dust off my dress just so I
didn’t have to look at him.
 What an embarrassing episode … and now I felt like I owed him. The
urge to smack my forehead became overwhelming, but I resisted.
“You’re most welcome,” Aculeus crooned, one of his vines pulling my
rope back up, out of view from down below. “I saved you for purely selfish
reasons, of course. I couldn’t let you die before I had your answer. We’d
make such a good team.”
I smacked my lips in annoyance. Ideally, my plan had hinged on escape
without his help, then taking my time to plot my own revenge.
“And if I were you, dear Keryssa, I wouldn’t try this method again. I
doubt your knots would’ve held anyway.” He shrugged. “Besides, that rune
etched on the back of your neck is a nasty piece of work.”
“The w-what?” I slapped my hand across my nape, tracing a thin, subtle
scar, its lines winding into a symbol I didn’t recognize.
“You didn’t notice?” Aculeus hissed a snicker. “I’ve seen things like it
before. A sort of proximity bonding spell, and I sense traces of Skrain’s
blood in it, plus the magic signature of his hemomancer, Emily. Quite
talented for a maid, that one.” He raised a hand to his face and his chin
dropped as if he was lazily inspecting his claws.
Anxiety tightened my belly. How could I not have sensed the spell? I still
couldn’t, no matter how hard I focused. Clearly, I underestimated Emily’s
abilities.
“What does this bond do?” I asked.
Aculeus looked up. “From experience, I’d say that if you stray too far
from Skrain, you’ll die a very slow, very painful death.”
“How far is too far?”
The demon shrugged. “I wouldn’t try it out.”
Damn, there went my chance at figuring out my escape without the
demon’s assistance.
I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms. “Let’s get this over with then.”
The demon’s head tilted expectantly.
“I’m in. We’ll help each other,” I snapped.
This was my only option. I wouldn’t give up. I would play the hand I was
dealt, even if it was precarious.
Aculeus grinned as he spoke. His tone told me as much. “Wonderful. I’m
delighted. If I may make a suggestion?”
“Sure.” I didn’t bother to hide the disdain in my voice.
“Why don’t you tell me which ingredients you need, and I’ll collect them
for y—”
“You must think I’ve lost my damn mind, demon.” I shook my head. “Just
so we’re clear, I don’t trust you. If I tell you the spell recipe, you’ll leave me
to rot or kill me, and find someone else to do it for you.”
Aculeus raised his hands, palms facing me, his laughter crawling along
my pebbling skin like centipedes. “You caught me,” he hissed.
I cleared my throat, shaking the shiver from my shoulders. “Besides,
gem enchanting is a fusion of alchemy and magic. A magical science. And
soulstones, even normal ones, are delicate. Only the creator may harvest
the ingredients, bind them to their magic the moment they are collected.” I
pointed a finger at him, my other hand on my hip. “This also means that you
can’t steal the stone. It will be bound to me and me alone—unless I willingly
forfeit ownership to you. Even with Skrain’s soul in it, it will be useless to
you if you take it by force. The jewel will stay in my possession until you’ve
fulfilled your end of our agreement.”
The demon growled. My hackles rose, but I stood my ground.
If he wanted my expertise, he had to play by my rules. I wouldn’t be
screwed over by arrogant men any longer, and I didn’t care if they were a
Xar’vathi or a demon or whatever else.
“You drive a dangerous, dangerous bargain,” Aculeus snarled. “And
those are many complicated promises to make for a helpless mortal who
can’t even leave this house. I could torture the spell recipe out of you.”
I scoffed, but nerves bubbled in my stomach as I glared at him. “Stop
bluffing, Aculeus. This soulstone is everything you’ve wanted. Power at your
fingertips. But I promise I would rather perish than tell you the recipe, and
if I’m dead, you lose your chance. Believe me, I’ve already died once—I’m
not afraid of the second time.”
My heart slammed into my ribs.
Actually, it was me bluffing, but I hoped my reckless grin convinced him
I really wasn’t scared of death. At least the other part was true, and from
the way he clicked his tongue, vines lashing across the ground, he knew it,
too.
Necromancy wasn’t my forté, but there was one cardinal rule every spell
caster heard of sooner or later: When a mortal soul had been brought back
to the realm of the living once, a second time would shatter it beyond
mending.
“I will find a way to get what I need, and I can earn Skrain’s trust back,”
I said, projecting steadfast confidence into my tone. “But you’ll have to let
me do it my way, Aculeus.”
The demon stood immovable. Silence pressed down on us, and I
wondered if he’d just decided to kill me after all, when he let out a vile
snicker.
“I agree to your terms, devious little Keryssa,” he said. “We both want
the same thing—to see Skrain suffer, make sure he gets what he deserves.
And you’re a smart girl, aren’t you? You’ve witnessed how strong Skrain is,
and you know you can’t fight him. Imagine how helpless you’d be if you
turned against me.”
“I’m aware,” I said through clenched teeth.
“Then get some rest, you’ll need all your charm to convince your
murderous husband of your sincerity. But before you lay down your weary
head, you should do something to hide that adorable escape attempt.”
Aculeus gestured to the rope. “I’ll see you soon.”
 With a wave of his hand, he disappeared into thin smoke, drifting on the
wind.
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Nightmares plagued me.
A blade in my belly. Fire on my skin. Skrain’s hands and Skrain’s mouth
on my body, making me feel all the things I shouldn’t feel. Love. Hate.
Attraction. Repulsion.
I woke drenched in sweat, eyes swollen from crying in my sleep.
Drowsy, I padded over the ripped curtains. I arranged them to suit a fit
of rage rather than an escape attempt, topped off with a few of his trousers
and tunics torn to shreds, too. At least I didn’t have to fake my anger.
I had just finished taking a bath and getting dressed, slipping on soft
suede flats in a shade of sky blue to match my dress, when a key turned in
the lock.
Emily entered, carrying a tray with a dewy carafe of red juice, a glass,
and a covered plate. She froze in the doorway, eyes sliding along the mess.
A grin spread over her face.
“Good morning,” she said, as cheerful as a young lamb. “I’ve brought
some breakfast.”
“Uh, good morning.” I fiddled with the straps of my gown. “I’m sorry
about the mess.”
Emily shook her head, leaving the tray on the bed. “Please don’t worry.
I’ll see to getting everything fixed or replaced by tonight. Skrain has made it
abundantly clear that you’re the lady of the house, and that means these are
your belongings. If you wish to destroy them, it’s well within your right.”
She paused, watching me blush as if to give the true meaning of her
words time to sink into my brain.
Skrain still thought of me as his wife, even now, and that meant there
was a chance for redemption. I had faked confidence in front of Aculeus, but
I hadn’t been entirely sure. I just wished I could’ve separated my feelings
from the task, stop my heart from warming and shattering over and over
when I thought of him, stop myself from wanting to hear him call me my
darling wife again.
And that fury, Creators—I had to keep it together.
“Thank you for the breakfast, Emily.” I approached her, putting a hand
on her arm. “But do you think it would be possible to eat with Skrain? I
would like to apologize to my—” My voice left me, and I found it again in a
whisper. “My husband.”
She grinned, her eyes widening so far, I thought they might pop from
her skull. “I’m sure it can be arranged. I shall ask your husband
immediately.”
Before I could say another word, she whirled around, skirts fluttering as
she exited the room. She didn’t forget to lock up, though.

“Keryssa!” Skrain smiled as he rose from a blanket with colorful geometric

patterns laid out on the grass beneath an orange parasol.
He met me halfway across the lawn of the fruit orchard, tail swaying
with every energetic step. Tears welled in my eyes as he took my hand to
set a kiss on it.
Fuck, now I wanted my rage back. I hadn’t expected this grief tearing
my chest in two.
“To be honest, after last night, I didn’t think you’d come around this
quickly. I was so glad to hear you wished to eat with me,” he said while he
led me to the blanket and gestured to a picnic basket.
I sat down, forcing a smile. “Mostly, I came to apologize.”
His brows snapped high, tail freezing before it slapped the grass in
excited swishes. He was far too willing to forgive me, accepting every
crumb of affection and attention like a starving pauper.
Skrain dropped next to me, crossing his legs, and reached into the
basket. He took out a bowl of fruit salad, a few chocolate pastries with a
sugar glaze on top, and a bottle of sparkling wine alongside two glasses.
Silence came over us while he arranged everything on the blanket, pouring
drinks. He handed one to me, and we toasted at each other.
In the morning sun, his eyes shimmered a million different shades of
green. Warmth radiated from him, intensifying the spiced fragrance
lingering on his skin. My pulse roared like the storm of tingles surging from
my belly into my chest, making it hard to focus, making it the biggest test of
willpower to stop myself from kissing him—or breaking the stem of my glass
to stab him with it.
How the Hells could I hate a man with such burning passion and yet
crave him like air, like water, like bread? How could I want oceans of
distance between us, how could I wish to flee from him, run to the ends of
this realm, yet yearn to feel his skin on mine like spring sunshine after a
long winter?
When our glasses were empty and put aside, he spoke again.
“I also owe you an apology. This is a difficult situation for both of us,
Kerys, and I have been too harsh, pushed you too far, too fast.” He framed
my face with his hands, smiling, eyes on my lips as if he was about to kiss
me. “But please, you have to trust me, listen to me. Just for a moment.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked while I brushed my nose against
his, the urge to recoil warring with the need to bridge that final distance
between us.
It was difficult to keep up the act, to pretend I forgave him … but it was
even harder to remember that I was just playing a role. A stupid part of me
almost did forgive him, a voice in the back of my mind euphoric to be close
to him again.
Every moment by his side turned my heart into a blood-soaked
battleground, my disgust and my attraction to him locked in an agonizing
impasse. Every second was a blade piercing through the echo of love hidden
behind my ribs. Slowly, I was bleeding out again within myself—until his
lips crashed into mine.
His tongue swept into my mouth, and my muscles slackened, tension
melting from me. His touch was like a drug, and I floated, forgetting that I
was supposed to hate him.
“Lara, the woman who tried to kill you, she truly had help,” he mumbled,
thumb brushing across my chin. “From my demon.”
“What?” I burst out. “Impossible. He has no reason to cause me harm.”
“I have proof, Kerys.” He strewed kisses along my throat, and I had to
stifle a very real moan. “Emily and I examined the remains, and just as I
thought, Lara didn’t possess magic. But the simulacrum was created from
magic identical to mine. It reacted the same way to a certain herbal mixture
as my own flesh and blood does. We could recreate the experiment for you.”
His words snapped me from my daze, drying up the arousal budding
between my legs—and shattering my composure.
“Disgusting,” I gritted out, scrambling backward. “You really think I’d
fall for this? Is that rune you had Emily put on me not enough? Isn’t it
enough to know that I’ll die if I move too far from you? I’m already your
prisoner!”
He blinked, irritation and confusion written across his face. “Wha—how
did you even find out about the rune?”
“I’m not a naive little girl!” I shot back. “Stop trying to distract me! I
know it will kill me!”
He slapped his thighs. “The fucking rune won’t kill you! I admit it’ll hurt
you if you try to run away, but it won’t kill you! Fuck, I’ll get Emily to
remove it if it’ll make you happy!”
“I don’t want to hear another word! You’re always lying!” I threw my
hands in the air. “You admitted your magic is like your demon’s. I bet it was
you helping Lara to assassinate me, and you want to place the blame on
your demon to scare me, drive me into your arms!”
He blew out a long, stuttering breath, and I could see the anger draining
from his expression. “Please, Kerys,” he said calmly, voice low. “Pause and
think this through for a moment. If I actually hated you, why would I grant
someone else the satisfaction of killing you after I waited so long?”
My nostrils flared as I let out a hysterical giggle. “You don’t have to
fucking remind me how much you enjoy murdering me!”
All bets were off. I couldn’t hold back anymore, and I didn’t give a shit
about the promise I made to Aculeus.
My rage erupted like a volcano. Spiteful words overflowed from my
mouth like infernal lava.
“Bet you enjoyed the sight of me in our bed before you killed me, huh,
Skrain? How pathetic of me to miss you so badly I even slept in your damn
tunic, just so I could smell you! Just so I could imagine your treacherous
arms around me! Did you get a kick out of seeing me wrapped in your
clothes when you rammed the knife—”
“The night you-you died … you wore my tunic to bed? You wore my tunic
when you died?” Skrain cut in. His lips trembled. “You-you missed me so
much that—and I just left you there … I-I shouldn’t have gone away, I—”
He crumpled. His shoulders rounded, hands dropping into his lap, tail
limp atop the blanket. Suddenly, he looked so small, gaze drifting to the
ground as if the grief of the entire realm rested on his back.
A sob tore from his throat, and when the first tear fell from his eye, a
drop becoming a river, a river becoming two streams of sorrow running
down his face, I froze.
Something about seeing proud, vain, brutal Skrain cry, squeezed the
breath from my lungs.
The cascade of molten rage flowing through me turned to stone,
crumbling into ashes. It was as if a void opened up in my chest, and in the
span between two heartbeats, I found the truth.
White flashed before my eyes.
The real memory crashed into me like a mace to the head.
Our bedroom. The silhouette in the doorway. The figure sitting on my
bed. This time, no swirling shadows obscured his face, moonlight bright
along his features. A long scar ran from his forehead across one eye. Curled
horns, the left one a broken stump.
I knew this man.
Ytzal.
“This is for my brother,” he’d seethed as the blade pierced my stomach.
When he twisted the knife, he’d smiled. “This is for wrecking our lives.”
When he lit the match, set me aflame, he’d laughed. “I have nothing left
to lose, but now, neither does poor old Skrain. And I’ll make sure he knows
it was me who slaughtered his disgusting excuse for a wife, me who took
everything from him.”
 My mind snapped back into the present like a taut bowstring, and the
pieces of this terrible puzzle slotted into each other, one by one.
After I woke from my vision of the past, I hadn’t told Skrain that I was
wearing his tunic when I died, but he would have known about it anyway if
he was there, if he was the one who murdered me. And if Skrain didn’t
know about the tunic, how could he have told Aculeus about it?
Why did Aculeus know about it?
My eyes widened. The seconds came to a grinding halt, and I looked
back to Skrain.
This man—no, my husband—wasn’t my murderer. He was telling the
truth.
Aculeus was the liar.
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I
couldn’t begin to imagine the monumental, soul-destroying hurt Kerys
must have felt, how hard my supposed betrayal must have hit her. She
believed I killed her while she was wrapped in my clothes, yearning for
me—
I bit back a sob, glancing at her, and my muscles went rigid.
The color had drained from her face. Her breath came in hectic, shallow
gasps.
“Kerys, what is it?”
She shook her head, licking along her dry lips, her gaze fixed on me with
an undecipherable, intense expression. Then she launched herself at me.
We collided. I let her push me onto my back, let her straddle me, her
skirt hiking up as her thighs squeezed around my hips.
“Creators, I’m so sorry, Skrain. I was wrong,” she rasped.
My head tilted. I thought I’d misheard, but she didn’t give me a chance
to ask.
Mouth open as if to devour me, she leaned down and grabbed both of
my horns, yanking me into a demanding kiss. My eyes rolled. She was
hungry and merciless, grinding her cunt against my stiffening cock, tongue
coiling with mine.
She pulled back, just enough to whisper. “I know it wasn’t you who
killed me.”
Fireworks went off in my chest.
Relief wasn’t a good enough description for the sensation rushing
through me. It was as if I could finally breathe, all my muscles going slack
at once—except for my tail whipping the grass while she kissed me again.
“But why?” I stammered when we parted. “It seemed like there was
nothing I could do to convince you.”
 War raged in her gaze, a battle between budding lust painting her
cheeks pink and a darker emotion, perhaps fear. Or guilt.
She swallowed so hard her shoulders trembled. “When you started to
cry, seeing you like that, in pain, it just—” She pushed a hand against her
sternum. “It must’ve triggered the real memory of my death.”
Tightness built in my throat as I gave a nod. I didn’t know what to say to
comfort her, so I pushed myself upright and closed my arms around her.
She sunk into me, her weight against me, her irregular breaths flitting
along my neck.
“I have a confession to make,” she mumbled. “I think I know what
happened during the ritual, and I believe I’ve been manipulated.”
I squeezed her. “Tell me what happened, Kerys. I’m on your side.
Always.”
She recoiled slightly, eyes flicking around the garden. “What if he is
listening in?”
“He?”
She put her thumb between her teeth, brows drawn. “Your demon,” she
whispered.
I laid a hand on her cheek, smiling. “He can hide from full mortals, but
our bond alerts me to his presence unless I’m actively using large amounts
of my own magic. That can blur the lines. Right now, we’re alone—or at
least I can guarantee he is not close enough to spy on our conversation. I
made sure of that before I told you about Lara.”
“I spoke to Aculeus,” she spat the words like they were hornets in her
mouth.
My smile dropped. “How dare he speak to my wife! When was this?” I
growled. “What did he want?”
Kerys’s shoulders slouched. “I’m such a fool. Yesterday he came to me
and said you told him every detail about my vision of the past.”
My ponytail whipped the sides of my face as I shook my head. “Fuck no!
I’d never break your trust like that. I didn’t speak to anyone after we
returned from the ritual, just sat by the pond in silence. You can ask Emily.
“She was tending to the plants around the water all afternoon, and she
would’ve seen my lips move or heard my voice if I had a discussion with
anyone—even Aculeus—before I came to see you. He’s not capable of
telepathy. If he was, he would’ve long shown me, just to brag and point out
the shortcomings of my mortal side.”
Her chin trembled, lips pursing. “I believe you now. But yesterday, my
misguided anger and hurt toward you made me gullible, clouded my
judgment. To wound me, Aculeus made an off-handed comment about how I
wore your tunic when I died, but your reaction—” Her voice cracked. “You
didn’t know about the tunic because you’re not my killer. But that means
you couldn’t have told Aculeus, and he couldn’t have known unless—”
 “Unless he somehow entered your vision and fucking altered it to make
me look like the bad guy,” I interrupted, rage like a flash of fire along the
nape of my neck.
She nodded. “Before I fainted during the ritual, I saw thorns and
shadows. I thought it was your magic.”
My gut tightened. “I already suspected there was someone messing with
us. The spell required a lot of focus and energy from me, that must’ve
masked his intrusion. I should have been more careful.”
“He played the revenge angle, asked me to work with him.” She spoke
almost too fast for me to follow.
I scoffed. “What’s his goal? Does he want to kill me?”
“No. Worse … and it’s all my fault!” Kerys gulped. “Do you remember
our last evening together, how I wanted to talk to you about the music
box?”
“Vaguely. I recall something about the gems you carved for the figures
to hold?” A thick swallow stuck to my throat. “I’m sorry, I was distracted.
Even all these years later, I still feel like an ass about it.”
She regarded me with a small smile. “That’s not why I’m asking. I
forgave you before you’d even walked out. But do you know where your
family got the box? If there was anything special about it?”
“I … uh …” My brows scrunched. “My mother said it had been in our
family for centuries. She sometimes told me wild stories, claiming our
ancestors were powerful mages, among the first to bend demons to the will
of mortals. I didn’t believe her. If it was true, why would we have lived in
squalor? Wouldn’t such a noble heritage mean that my family should be rich
and in favor at court?”
“Well …” Kerys drew out the vowel, hesitating. “Demonology is a
dangerous school of magic, and I can’t guess what caused your ancestors’
fall from grace. But I believe your mother wasn’t entirely wrong. Inside the
music box, I found a hidden compartment, and in it …” She paused, inhaling
a long breath. “Was a spell recipe. A soulstone, though not a normal one.
This one doesn’t just trap a demon’s soul and drain its powers until it dies,
but preserves it like an insect in amber. It’s practically an infinite source of
magic if one can find a safe way to wield it.”
I let out a huff. “Well, I’ll be damned. Mother knew best after all.”
“There is one problem …” Kerys continued, cringing. “When I still
thought you were my murderer, I told Aculeus about the stone. I knew I
couldn’t fight you alone, and hoped he’d accept it as payment for his help.”
I wasn’t sure what I felt. Like someone slapped me across the face.
Punched me in the gut. Hot and cold. Numb, yet every emotion tearing at
my insides at once.
“The plan was to make you believe I forgive you and want to be with
you. In the meantime, I would make one of the special soulstones for
Aculeus,” she said, her voice getting quieter with each word. “At the
moment of your greatest anguish—the reveal of my betrayal—he wants to
kill you and capture your demon-tainted soul. Then, in exchange for my
work, he would help me to take over your enterprises and make me rich.”
I took a stuttering breath. From her point of view at the time, allying
with the demon was a sensible, logical choice. I understood. She’d wanted
to hurt me like she thought I hurt her.
And Gods, I simply couldn’t be mad at her.
“You agreed,” I stated, not even asking. I knew the truth from her
wobbling lip.
“Yes.”
“Did you make a bargain?”
She shook her head. “Do you …” Her gaze dropped to the ground. “Do
you hate me now?”
A wry laugh bubbled in my throat. “I could never hate you. Fuck, I can’t
even be angry with you when I try.”
“Good,” she said, smirking with renewed confidence. “Because I have no
intention of going through with helping the demon, and I think it gives us an
opportunity to turn the tables on him.”
I raised a brow. “Is that so?”
“Because nothing was detailed in my vision, Aculeus doesn’t know the
ingredients or the spell to create the stone. I believe he only saw what I
saw, heard only what I heard, what I thought. Then somehow, he twisted
the last bit, my death, just enough to make it believable. To make me
despise you.” She propped her hands on her waist, straightening on my lap.
“But after you locked me in our bedroom yesterday afternoon, I
remembered what we need to make that soulstone.”
I snickered, leaning back on my elbows, looking up at her. “I’d be
screwed if he could get his hands on one without your help.”
“It gets even better. I have a plan to trick him.” Mischief flickered across
her features. “I’ll say that in my effort to regain your trust, it was necessary
to tell you about the soulstone. You agreed to assist me in gathering the
ingredients, on the condition that I make the stone for you to capture the
demon instead. All steps will be the same. Aculeus will think I’m on his side,
tricking you. He won’t suspect a thing until the moment I betray him
instead.”
“A classic double-cross.” I clicked my tongue. “I like your idea, but never
underestimate a demon. We might be able to fool Aculeus, but don’t we
have to come up with a method to weaken him enough to capture him? And
since my magic stems from him, I can’t harm him.”
“Agreed.” Her chin dipped in an enthusiastic nod. “But until then, we
must make it look like I have you wrapped around my little finger, like I am
still seducing you to your doom,” she whispered, and her lashes fluttered,
her expression shifting, turning heated.
Her gaze slid along my mouth, down my chest, and that needy look in
her eyes was enough to make my cock fill.
 “Naturally. We wouldn’t want to arouse suspicion, would we?” I
growled, watching her provocatively push her tits out, her nipple rings
pressing against the fabric of her dress.
“So, before I explain the recipe to you, and we get down to the nitty-
gritty of planning, do you think we can take some time for ourselves right
now? Make up properly?” She bit her lip, regarding me with an impish wink
that made my pulse quicken. “You know, make it look … realistic?”
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I
gripped around her waist. My fingers dug in, feeling the heat of her
supple flesh through her airy gown. She let out a screaming laugh as I
twisted beneath her. I flipped us, rolling from the blanket onto the grass
until I loomed over her, my one hand pinning her wrists above her head.
Diving down for a kiss, my mouth wandered along her neck. She bucked
against me, back arching, a moan budding in her chest. I nudged her legs
further apart and pressed my dick against her sex, letting her feel how hard
I was for her.
“Do you want to fuck like enemies again, my darling wife?” I asked,
smirking.
Her giggle had my heart racing. “Yes,” she rasped. “Fuck me like you
hate me. Bruise me. Make me bleed.”
I reached into the picnic basket, feeling around bread, cool wine bottles
and clanking cutlery. After a moment, I found what I was searching for. I
pulled out a small carving knife and the sun reflected off it, catching Kerys’s
attention. She stiffened beneath me as I twirled the blade in front of her
face, her eyes following each spin.
“Yes, this is for you, my little pain addict,” I murmured, trailing the flat
side of the knife down her throat, goose bumps following where the metal
touched. She twitched, like she wanted me to cut her, but I didn’t allow her
that pleasure.
Not yet.
Her grin widened as I hiked her dress up, bunching the fabric above her
breasts. I slid the blade under the side strings of her panties, cutting them
off her. My mouth watered as I drank in the sight of her beneath me. Her
heaving, bejeweled tits, the curve of her waist, her soft stomach, that
glistening cunt, wet and waiting for me.
 “Now, you’ll receive your punishment for wanting to kill me and damn
my soul to eternal torment with Aculeus feeding on my suffering.” I placed
the tip of the knife above her pussy, on the pubic bone. “I think you need a
reminder who you belong to.”
Her breath hitched. “Yes, master.”
I almost wanted to toss the blade onto the lawn and force my cock into
her right then, do away with the foreplay. But even more, I wanted her to
wear my mark.
First, I wanted to see her eyes shimmer with agony, taste the warmth of
her blood again.
“Open your mouth,” I demanded, and she did without hesitation.
Fuck, that pink tongue and her throat, shining with saliva … I
shuddered, my balls tightening as I remembered how deeply she sucked my
cock at the party.
I scrunched up her ruined panties and shoved them into her mouth.
“Can you taste your desperation, my needy little whore?”
The flush of red on her cheeks drew down over her neck. She made a
pathetic squealing noise, and my dick strained against my pants.
“Aw, I forgot. You can’t speak,” I teased.
My eyes flicked to her lower belly again. I raised the knife, tapping the
bottom of the handle against the piercing above her clit, and she writhed.
“Ah-ah. Lay still, Kerys. This is dangerous. I don’t want to hurt you more
than I have to …” I shrugged, cruel laughter welling in my throat. “Not
much more, at least.”
I pressed the blade to the left side of her pubic bone and began to carve.
Careful line after careful line. Scarlet seeped from the shallow cuts and her
breathing sped up.
The gashes formed one angular letter.
Then two.
Three.
By the fourth, tears streamed down her face as she endured.
Five.
After the sixth, she was sobbing, and my erection was so stiff it hurt.
Desire wound along my spine, making my tail lash as I admired my artwork
running across the curve of her mound.
SKRAIN
I spelled my name with her agony, wrote my mark in her blood, etched
my ownership into her flesh.
Kerys was undeniably mine, mine, mine. And now, whenever she
undressed to bathe, whenever she changed or admired her bare body in the
mirror, she’d be reminded that she belonged to me.
And next time I fucked her in public, when those scumbags drooled over
my pretty little wife, they’d see my Gods damned name right above her
pussy.
 I released her wrists before I tugged the panties from her mouth,
tossing them over my shoulder. When I leaned down, her hands drew lightly
along the base of my horns, her shaky caress adoring and gentle.
In broad strokes, I licked the red off her belly, the smell of copper in my
nose and sour salt on my tongue. My tongue drew along each letter, down
to her clit, up again. Her flavor was addictive, making me lightheaded as I
suckled on the wounds until she moaned.
This is how the blood-cursed must feel, I mused.
I sat up, smiling. “What a good girl you are, waiting for my permission to
speak,” I said, brushing the back of my fingers along her throat.
“I’m always a good girl for you, master,” she breathed, grinning.
“Liar.”
I laughed as I pressed the handle of the knife into her palm, curling her
fingers around it. With the focused attention of a hawk, she watched me
undo my tunic and take it off.
“Your turn,” I said.
Kerys giggled and pushed herself upright. She didn’t wait for
confirmation, didn’t hesitate.
When the blade split my skin, I almost screamed a prayer. Not from
pain, but from elation. And not to the Gods, but to my wife.
I was so very hallowed to carry her name, to take her blessing with me
wherever I went. How could I have been so fortunate to receive her mark?
I would have let her carve the flesh from my bones until I had nothing
left to give, would have revered the sick glint in her eyes as she tormented
me until my life slipped away.
But it was over too soon.
I looked down and traced the stinging, vermillion letters above my heart
with a single finger.
KERYS
She caught my gaze and laughed, defiantly ramming the knife into the
lawn. As if snapping from a trance, I pushed her down onto her back again
—and followed. I was on top, her hands everywhere at once, tangling with
mine, roaming my body, undoing my trousers.
I burned up with desire, and every second not inside her was too long.
After I freed my erection, I slammed into her in one thrust. She cried
out, her nails scraping along my back. I hoped she’d draw more blood, leave
more scars.
No time for gentleness.
I fucked her like a rabid animal. She was so wet, the sloppy sounds of
her cunt echoed through the garden.
“H-harder,” she begged, barely getting the word out.
My palm connected with her cheek and her head flew to the side, but
her little hole squeezed me tight.
“You’re such a filthy whore, Kerys. And whores don’t get to make
demands. When will you finally get that through your skull?” I hissed,
gripping her throat. “What kind of disgusting woman gets wet from being
cut and slapped and choked, huh?”
The kind of woman I love, I thought. The kind I’d die for. The only one
I’d ever want.
But this wasn’t the time for mushy confessions either.
I was determined to give her what we both wanted: A good, rough,
relentless fucking.
And I was determined to be what she needed: A carnal, brutal fiend who
treated her like meat, like nothing but a hole. A savage man who disgraced
her and used her until she was sore and bruised.
I cut off her air flow completely, and she grinned before her face twisted
in euphoria. When she unraveled, her pulse fluttering beneath my fingers
and her inner walls clenching around me, I couldn’t hold back any longer.
Kerys was still convulsing around my cock while I released thick spurts
of cum into her. I was seeing spots, the world around us dull from the
aftershock, when I flipped us over again. My movements were slow and
deliberate this time, careful to not break the physical connection between
us.
She snickered, resting on my chest, drawing lazily along the lines of her
name, and I rubbed over her back, kneading her muscles.
“I love you,” she said, and my heart stopped.
This time, I knew she meant it. But I’d waited a hundred years for these
words, and now that they rang out, I couldn’t believe it.
“Say it again,” I breathed, my voice shaking. “Please. Say it again.”
Kerys let out a laugh, the kind filled with warmth, the sound like the
rustle of wind before the first rain upon parched land.
“I love you, Skrain,” she whispered slowly.
Each letter, each syllable resonated within me. The discordant notes of
doubt in my mind harmonized into a single melody, into a single feeling,
into a response dripping from my tongue like nectar.
“I love you, too, my darling wife,” I said and hugged her tighter.
If the world would have ended right then, her confession in my ears, her
scent in my nose and her weight atop me, I would have died happy. I knew a
difficult journey was ahead of us, but we deserved a moment of bliss.
And fuck, together, we could even trick a demon.
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T
he thick hem of my rough-spun peasant dress rubbed along my calves,
making me cringe with each step, cheap, stiff leather shoes chafing
my feet. Blisters burned along my toes as I navigated around boulders
dotting the narrow mountain path, placed as obstacles to prevent riders and
carts from making a comfortable journey to the top.
Earlier, when we began our ascent, Skrain had dismissed my suggestion
of hiring outside help for our quest to find the ingredients and eventually
defeat Aculeus.
Those whose blades and loyalty can be bought by me may be bought by
another just as easily, he’d said.
He’d insisted that any mercenaries would be susceptible to the demon’s
bribery, and that he only trusted two people in this whole realm.
Me and Emily.
I scoffed as I thought of the head maid, left behind in our comfortable
campsite in the desert valley. With a smug grin, she stated she’d miss us,
but I bet she was relieved. I would’ve loved to sit around and read, too.
How long had we been walking?
Shielding my eyes with a hand, I glanced over my shoulder, finding the
sun-burned road vacant.
After I agreed to the demon’s terms, I’d expected him to pester me
frequently, but he hadn’t contacted me again. I chalked up his non-
appearance to my husband’s presence. Aculeus might’ve watched from a
distance, but at least he couldn’t torment me directly.
Since we reconciled, we were basically joined at the hip. And because
Skrain could detect Aculeus if he came close, the demon wasn’t exactly free
to walk up to ask me how the plan was proceeding. Staying near to my
husband had become both my greatest pleasure and a safety precaution,
easily explained away by the rune on the back of my neck if Aculeus asked.
I drew the scarf covering my head deeper into my face. My long inhale
of the simmering air came out in an annoyed sigh.
Skrain snickered. “You were never one for camping and hikes,” he
teased, wrapping an arm around my waist. Applying gentle pressure to my
back, he sought to help me with the steep climb. “You’re more the type for
luxury, my little queen.”
I shoved my elbow into his ribs, and he huffed in theatrical pain. His grin
didn’t fade, though.
“And you’re sure we’ll find the first ingredient up there?” I asked. “I
don’t want to wear these stupid clothes and make this stupid trek for
nothing.”
A shrug lifted Skrain’s strong shoulders. “The monastery of the
Wordless Creed is the only place where you might find the eternal silence of
the faithful dead. I guess with those ethereal, abstract descriptions of the
ingredients you told me about, the entire recipe might be up to
interpretation. But one of the preserved tongues of the order’s disciples
makes the most sense.”
With his free hand, he pulled a crumpled cigarette from his pocket and
put it between his lips. He took out a match, striking it on a boulder in
passing.
“Well, you don’t even know much more beyond the order’s name,” I said.
“How can the Wordless Creed be such a mystery?”
“They’re an extreme group. All of Xar’vath is heavily influenced by
religion, but these folks … they’re something else. Even the Emperor and
the High Priest don’t associate with them.” He paused to light his cigarette,
waving the match until the fire died, flicking it down the cliff to our left.
“But because Dax’eia, the Goddess they worship, was indeed part of our
pantheon once and the faithful are not allowed to spite the Gods, they just
tolerate the Creed, leave them alone.”
I rolled my eyes. “I guess cutting out your tongue in a vow of silence
could be called extreme. But do they have to go down the route of
renouncing all worldly riches and pleasures? I mean … no sex? And do these
humble clothes have to be so Hells damned uncomfortable? Will they even
let me in if I wear my translation gem?” I rambled as I fiddled with the
leather string around my neck, weighed down by the chunk of raw
tourmaline I’d enchanted with a translation spell. “You told me they don’t
allow applicants to take any magical objects into the monastery.”
“They’ll have to make an exception,” Skrain said casually. “How are you
going to learn about their Goddess if you can’t understand them? I also
explained the situation in our letter of appeal.” He patted his pocket.
I glanced at him, taking in his bland getup. It was strange to see him
without all his jewelry, the pearls removed from his horns. He wore a plain
brown tunic and trousers, plus boots that looked similarly stiff to mine, but
even a king in rags was still a king. And to me, Skrain was the noblest man
in this realm. I would’ve worshipped at his feet until my last breath.
Still, I wondered if he felt naked without his piercings. I sure did, even
though I’d only had them for a short while. At least Skrain’s poison had let
them heal completely, and he assured me I’d have no issues putting them
back in.
“I think you’ll find the self-flagellation in the name of humility and
cleansing one’s heart far more uncomfortable than the clothes,” he said
cheerfully between big drags from the cigarette. “Though we know you get
a kick out of a little whipping now and then, my darling wife.”
A wave of heat welled from within me, competing with the sunshine on
my face.
It was too easy for Skrain to make me blush. How could this still
happen? I was aware that he knew about my tastes, so why was this getting
me all flustered?
I cleared my throat, ignoring thoughts of him standing in our bedroom
with his belt in his hand and how he—
“We won’t let it get to the point where we have to cut out our tongues,
right?” I blurted, my gut churning.
“That’s why Emily injected you with concentrated shroudgrass and
veilweft root, and implanted that pretty dark gem under your skin.” Skrain
reached under my skirt, between my legs, digits drawing along my left inner
thigh. He grinned as he slid over an oval, cherry-sized bump. “If everything
goes to shit, you’ll have to hurry and conjure up the invisibility enchantment
you promised for our escape.”
“Very funny.” I slapped his hand away, trying not to smirk. “I’ll have to
cut out the jewel and boil down my blood to distill the herbal tincture before
I can use it. Good luck with doing that in a hurry.”
“We’ll manage, my priceless treasure. Have you forgotten that we’re
unstoppable together?”
My smile finally broke through before fading again instantly. “I studied
all the materials you gave me during our journey and read that no applicant
has ever returned. Why not? They can’t all want to stay.”
Skrain shrugged again. “I couldn’t tell you. Everything we do know
about the Wordless Creed and their faith—the celibacy, the plain clothes
and meals, the tongue preservation—comes from their public manifesto
praising their Goddess.”
I shook my head, grimacing. “Imagine never leaving that dusty old
monastery except to silently hand out religious pamphlets in town and trade
a little. Creators, and then they lug it up here on foot!”
“They don’t exactly get a ton of people wanting to join, but I hope that
means they’ll accept foreigners. And according to my sources in the capital,
there has been a small surge in interest, driven by a handful of
impoverished nobles who found comfort in the teachings of Dax’eia. That’s a
great cover for us, though it might also mean the members of the Creed will
be more suspicious and thorough in their examination of newcomers. It’s
important we deliver a convincing performance until we find the tongues.”
“Do you want me to recite the tale of Dax’eia?” I asked. “Just to be
sure?”
Skrain took one last huff of tobacco and tossed the cigarette away. He
grasped my chin, stepping in front of me, blocking my path.
“No, my darling wife. But I need you to understand that I won’t let any
harm come to you.”
He leaned down and sealed my lips with his. I chased his mouth, prying
my tongue between his teeth, and he reciprocated quickly, humming a
muted moan. I could have kissed him for hours, but Skrain pulled away,
cupping my face.
“I’m serious, Kerys.” His thumbs drew over my cheeks, stroking. “You’re
nervous, I know. I can’t begin to guess what awaits us. But no matter what
happens, no matter how dire our situation looks … I won’t let anyone hurt
you. I swear on our unborn child.”
The sun might as well have shone from right within my ribcage. His oath
filled me with ultimate trust, with so much joy, it felt I should have burned
hotter than the desert.
I squinted playfully. “But I’m not pregnant.”
He smirked. “One day you will be. I’ll make sure of it.”
“I … I would like that,” I whispered, and a soft tug moved through my
chest. “One day.”
He kissed my forehead. “If you feel alone, if you panic, just remember
my promise. I will always protect you. I will always find you.”
“Yes, my beloved husband,” I said, savoring the glimmering word as it
melted on my tongue, coating my heart in gold.
His breath caught, eyes widening before he let out a shy snicker. “If it
was up to me, I’d stand here all day and listen to you finally call me husband
again. But the sooner we create the stone, the sooner we can start planning
our family.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” I said, but a part of me was definitely
getting ahead of myself, too. How cute would our baby be? Would they have
little horns and a tiny tail and—
Skrain turned and gestured for me to follow. “Come, it’s not far now.
Walk a few steps behind me. We can’t let them see us being affectionate.”
I huffed and hurried after him. However long we had to stay in the
monastery, any second not touching Skrain would be an eternity. And trials,
tongue-cutting, and other dangers aside, that definitely seemed like the
most torturous part.
Skrain’s fist pounded against the imposing metal gate, and it rang with the
impact. I flinched, folding my arms around myself as I studied the dark iron.
There was no way of opening it from the outside, no mechanism or handle.
My head tilted back as my eyes followed vines with delicate red blooms
and jagged leaves growing over the towering stone wall hewn from the
mountain. Desert roses, I recalled. The only flowers that could survive
months without water, never losing their color, warding off grazing animals
with their broad thorns.
The gate creaked open, just a slit, and a bald, ancient-looking monk with
short horns peered outside, wrinkly lips pressed tight, dull blue eyes
narrowed. I tried not to stare at the long scars covering the parchment-like
skin of his face, tried not to think if he had inflicted them on himself.
Skrain reached into his pocket and produced the letter he’d prepared at
home, written in blocky scribbles and signed by both of us. He unfolded it,
holding it out to the man.
Our names are Skrain and Kerys. We have seen the treachery of our
hearts in betrayal to one another, but Dax’eia has shown us the way, and we
wish to cleanse ourselves and serve her. We hope you will accept the
translation gem around Kerys’s throat. She has come from across the ocean
to learn about Dax’eia, but yet needs help to understand Xar’vathi. We
implore you: please allow us into the Wordless Creed.
At first, I had been confused by the letter’s simplicity and purposely
sloppy penmanship, but Skrain insisted that fancy cursive and academic
eloquence would make us seem less sincere. After all, we were supposed to
drop all vanity and pretense in the monastery.
The male stared at the paper. Then at us, looking us up and down, from
head to toe. Then back to the letter. Back to us.
Minutes passed in tense silence.
Whenever he looked at me, the corners of my lips wanted to twitch into
a smile, but I stopped myself. Smiling—another thing these devotees saw as
an offense.
Though the urge to speak burned in my throat, I clamped my mouth
shut. My heart pounded, and I counted every too-quick beat.
Creators, how long could this take?
A barely audible sigh drifted from the man’s lips as he opened the gate a
little wider. He stepped aside, threadbare gray robes fluttering around his
gaunt form. With a sweeping gesture of his bony tail and a somber nod, he
invited us inside.
Skrain inclined his head and marched on, full of confidence. I took a
moment to steel myself, my feet glued to the dusty rock, before I made
myself follow.
The ground quaked as the gate fell shut behind us. We stood in a barren
chamber, illuminated by a single, flickering torch on the stone wall. Another
gate towered ahead, this one wooden, a smaller door cut into its right side,
bearing a rusty lock.
 As the monk rounded us, I forced slow breaths into my lungs, but the
harder I tried, the quicker I gasped. Skrain stood right beside me, close
enough to touch. My fingers tingled with the need to feel his warmth, to let
him comfort me. I gritted my teeth, resisting the impulse to—
The world went dark.
My stomach lurched, a scream dying on my tongue. If I resisted, if I
made a noise, we’d be finished, and I wasn’t keen to find out why no
applicants ever left the monastery.
Calm down, Kerys, I told myself. You haven’t gone blind. Think. Focus.
A blindfold. Yes, it must have been the monk’s shaky hands tugging a
tight knot at the back of my head.
My attention diverted to my other senses. I noted the old man’s soft
steps. The swishing of Skrain’s tail, its tip hitting my foot. The metal
scraping of a key in a lock and a click as it yielded.
A screech rang in my ears—probably the gate opening—before
something cold and hard wrapped around my wrist. The monk’s fingers, I
guessed.
He pulled me onward and the door slammed shut, the lock clicking
again. As I was yanked forward anew, I stumbled, tripping over my horrible
shoes. With each step, I sunk slightly into the squelching ground.
No light filtered through the edges of the blindfold. Perhaps it was
enchanted, or perhaps the room was pitch black, but the effect remained
the same. I saw nothing—but my stomach curdled as I inhaled.
A sour scent with a repugnant, underlying sweetness. Iron and acid.
Blood.
Death.
Decay.
And beneath, almost hidden, another fragrance.
Sulfur.
Something inside me, the prey part of my psyche, flew into a panic.
The Wordless Creed was involved with demonology. There was no
doubt.
I felt like I was going to throw up.
With effort, I focused my thoughts on Skrain. His face, how his eyes
crinkled when he smiled. The way his tail whipped when he was excited.
How warm his voice sounded when he told me he loved me.
A noise came from my left. Faint and muted. I tilted my head, listening
closer.
Closer.
The grip around my wrist held tighter, not hurting, but I understood.
Keep walking.
There it was again. That sound.
My brows quirked.
A skittering. A wet rip. A crack and a snap.
 A dark rumble reverberated through the air, and my heart skipped a
dangerously long beat.
Feasting.
Something was feasting, tearing flesh and tendon. Breaking bones.
And we were walking right through its lair.
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A nd just like that, with the creaking of another heavy door opening and
closing, it was over.
The hold on my wrist faded. When the blindfold was taken from my eyes,
it felt like I’d been roused from a nightmare, mercifully awoken to a
darkened antechamber. Not that it was a welcoming space, more stone, a
few candelabras. No windows. No spot to sit down, no carpets, just closed
doors leading Creators knew where.
But I knew it wasn’t a dream. That sick feeling making me shiver was
real. The smell clinging to my nostrils wasn’t an illusion, and not even the
woody scent of incense burning in a clay holder atop a small pedestal by the
entrance could mask it.
And as Skrain looked at me over his shoulder, I could see it in his
expression, too.
The message had been loud and clear, without a single spoken word.
We knew why no applicant ever returned: a beast from the Hells was
guarding the exit.
That also explained why the monk simply proceeded to hang the key
from a little hook on the frame of the gate. There was no need to hide it.
Nobody would make it out into the desert. Anyone who tried to cross the
chamber beyond would find themselves at the mercy of the creature.
The old man stuffed the blindfolds into his pocket and gestured to our
muddy boots, then to a large square of cloth by the door. After we had
wiped our shoes, leaving streaks of pitch-black dirt smeared along the mat,
he held up a hand, signaling us to wait.
His spindly tail dragged along the ground as he approached a door to
our right and knocked. A woman with curled horns and sunken cheeks
opened. She wore gray robes, too, her resolute footsteps echoing pointedly
on the floor as she took Skrain’s arm, leading him away, through another
door.
Without him, I was lost. My eyes flicked around the room when the man
paced in front of me, gesturing again. This time, for me to follow him. My
knees wobbled, but I made myself move, holding fast to Skrain’s promise.
Come what may, my husband would save me.

The monk guided me through a series of doors and confusing, dim

corridors. I tried to memorize the route but soon gave up.
After a few minutes, we entered a bright room. I was blinded, blinking,
my eyes slowly adjusting to the light of dozens of candelabras and a metal
chandelier above. Intricate tapestries decorated the walls, and my gaze
widened as I made sense of the embroidered figures and landscapes.
It was the story of Dax’eia.
The man laid a hand on the small of my back, reaching into his pocket.
He took out a sheet of thin, wrinkled paper, splotchy writing in large
lettering scrawled onto it. It seemed as ancient as he did, as if it had been
folded and unfolded hundreds of times.
In remembrance of Dax’eia and her sacrifice, you shall speak your last
words inside this room. For you must know her suffering and embrace her
with a true heart.
I sucked on my cheeks as I looked up, studying the tapestries again. My
mouth formed a silent O when I realized what was happening.
This was a test.
The tapestries were out of order, and it was my first duty to tell the
story as it was meant to be told and put the artwork into the right sequence.
Though I didn’t believe in this Goddess, I had to make it convincing, had to
put aside my own skepticism and make this tall tale sound like fact.
I stood straighter, reassuring myself with a nod. This was a task I could
fulfill, and luckily, it didn’t involve losing my tongue. Yet.
I strode around the room, inspecting the tapestries closer. They were
too large, hung up too high for me to pluck from their nails and rearrange,
so I walked to the one depicting the beginning of the story. I pointed at a
woman with long copper hair and straight, white horns. She almost seemed
to glow, her flowing robes fluttering as she stood amid a handful of
Xar’vathi listening to her like eager children.
The old man’s stern eyes bore into me like a thousand needles. I cleared
my throat. Put on the spot, my voice was all too reluctant to sound, too quiet
when it finally rose.
“Once upon a time, Dax’eia visited this realm and walked among the
mortals of Xar’vath,” I said. “There was no kinder Goddess than her, no
humbler Goddess than her. She provided wise guidance to anyone in need,
beggar or noble alike, never asking anything in return.”
Under the scrutinizing gaze of the monk, I walked across the room to
the next tapestry. This one showed the Goddess as she sat atop a small
pedestal in a village square, a peaceful crowd assembled around her. It was
a calm scene, but in the distance, on the horizon, hung blackened clouds,
angry, twisted faces forming in the shadows.
“Dax’eia’s following grew quickly,” I continued. “She became the most
popular deity in all of Xar’vath. Thousands of pilgrims made the journey
through the desert to see her and accept her sage words into their heart.
She enjoyed spending time with the mortals, far away from the jealous
squabbles of the Gods. To her, the Xar’vathi hearts seemed pure, untainted
by the other deities’ endless lust for power and deceit.”
I took a few steps to the side, gesturing toward the next artwork. This
one showed the Goddess smiling as she leaned in to kiss a Xar’vathi male.
By their side stood a few others, happiness and contentment written in their
hearty laughter.
“Dax’eia formed genuine, deep connections with her inner circle of
attendants. They became her trusted friends and confidants. She even took
one of them as her lover.”
I paused, looking at the monk, but his face stayed frozen. All of him did,
arms crossed and shoulders slumping. He would have made for a rather
scrawny, unimpressive statue, if it wasn’t for that aggressive stare.
How could someone be so judgmental, have such suspicion and
disapproval radiating from them without speaking?
A tingle of anxiety surged from my belly as I crossed the chamber to
reach the next tapestry. Had I already made a mistake?
“Against Dax’eia’s wishes, the people of Xar’vath built a site of worship
for her,” I said, gesturing at a depiction of the Goddess standing on the
steps of a massive temple, its golden columns decorated with gems. A kind
smile curled her lips as she waved at a sea of cheering devotees, kneeling at
her feet.
“But unbeknownst to Dax’eia, her lover had become jealous. Though the
Goddess was generous, sharing her wealth with him, he wanted the
adoration and riches for himself alone.” I crouched to angle my finger at a
small detail in the art. A horned male in black robes—her lover—standing
off to the side, half hidden behind a pillar, a vicious sneer twisting his
handsome features.
I rose and hurried to the next tapestry. The male was in this one, too. He
prayed in front of a dark shrine, hands folded and eyes upturned at a tall,
hooded figure proffering a knife. Umbral magic swirled around the stranger,
the same emanations enveloping the weapon.
“In secret, her lover turned to Venfyr, also known as the traitor. He was
a malicious God, worshipped by those seeking personal gain through
ruthless acts of betrayal toward friends, family, and loved ones. In exchange
for his soul when he died, the traitor bestowed a special weapon upon the
mortal male, promising it would strike down Dax’eia in a single blow.”
There were only three tapestries left, and next, I picked one with the
Goddess weeping over the charred corpse of her beloved. The traitor’s
dagger was buried in her heart, tears of silver streaming from her eyes. Her
friends surrounded her, mouths agape and arms raised in grieving lament.
“But in their arrogance, both the traitor God Venfyr and Dax’eia’s mortal
companion underestimated her. They mistook her kindness for weakness
and her humility for ineptitude,” I said. “When her lover attacked, she
struck him down with a bolt of crackling magic, burning his body with icy
flames and damning his soul to wander, lost forever, unable to cross into the
next life. She looked up at her friends, and said …”
I took a deep breath, preparing myself for the grand finale, the Goddess’
speech.
“I have treated you as my children,” I quoted Dax’eia word for word as it
was told in the scripture Skrain had given me. “I guided you, cared for you,
walked with you. I have treated you as my equals. And how do you repay
me? The Gods are vicious and selfish, and I would have expected nothing
else from them.
“But now I know that mortal hearts are worse. Gods don’t pretend to be
loyal, to care about one another. They don’t smile in your face and pierce
your back with a blade. There is honesty in their treachery, for they never
pretended to love me.”
I made for the second to last tapestry, this one far more brutal than the
others.
The Goddess had pulled the weapon from her chest. She held it in her
hand, face twisting in pain as she drew the blade through her tongue.
Shimmering blood stained her gown, pooling on the floor.
“From this day on, she said as she tore the blade from her chest and
lifted it to her mouth, you shall be alone. You shall have to find kindness and
empathy and wisdom within yourselves, for I will no longer be by your side.
Purge the darkness from your souls or be doomed to live in misery, in
eternal fear of each other, in fear of betrayal like the one you’ve shown me.
From this day on, I shall not speak again until mortalkind has cleansed itself
from evil.”
Finally, I walked to the last tapestry. It showed bare worshippers,
kneeling in front of a statue, hewn in the likeness of Dax’eia. Whips rested
in their hands and streaks of crimson painted their backs.
“Since that day, we strive to purify ourselves,” I brought out, making
eye contact with the motionless monk. “We separate ourselves from this
tainted realm and its people. Through strength of will, through abstinence
from this world’s pleasures, through pain and sacrifice, we honor her name.
We pray for repentance and forgiveness, awaiting the day our Goddess
returns and embraces us again.”
 Breathless from nerves and all the talking, I quirked a brow at the old
man. He gawked again. The seconds seemed like hours until his head finally
dropped into a curt nod. Without waiting for me, he spun around, gesturing
for me to follow him out the door.
Relief rushed through me, and I sprinted after him.
For now, I had passed.
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I
dropped chunks of potato into the dented pot and stoked the coals
beneath with a metal poker. The thin, brown broth looked far from
appetizing, shreds of wrinkled carrot, limp onions, shriveled beans, and
pieces of tough beef floating in it.
My tail lashed.
Two days.
I gritted my teeth, holding in a growl.
It had been two days since we arrived, and we’d made no progress in
finding the tongues.
According to Emily’s estimate, we had another twenty-four hours at
best, then the quality of the herbal concoction in Kerys’s blood would be too
degraded. Without it, she wouldn’t be able to create the invisibility
enchantment to get us the Hells out of this accursed place, and we’d have to
confront that beast by the exit.
The vines pressed against the inside of my palms, and I busied myself
with stirring the stew, considering our options.
My instincts called for the easy way out—violence. I could have tortured
the members of the Creed, attempted to force them to give me the
information I needed, but the tongue cutting and self-whipping led me to
believe that brutality wouldn’t achieve anything. These people were
prepared to make grim sacrifices for their beliefs. It was more than doubtful
they were afraid of torment or death.
On top of that, I didn’t like the odds of taking on the monastery’s
supernatural guard dog. My involvement with Aculeus allowed me to sense
the strength of demonic energies easier than a regular mortal, and that
creature possessed immense power.
It would provide a significant challenge, even to me.
 I would fight if I had to—especially when it came to protecting my wife—
though only an insecure cretin would take an unnecessary risk to prove his
manliness or some shit. Before Kerys returned to me, I sought out pain, got
myself caught up in stupid battles that weren’t mine to fight. But this
mission was about more than just me. I couldn’t fail.
We needed to create that damn soulstone because finally, Aculeus had
to go.
In the years without Kerys, the demon was a nuisance. Sometimes, I
begrudgingly had to admit, he was even an asset.
Without his assistance in business matters, I would have gone bankrupt
after Kerys’s death. Exactly as Ytzal had planned, I’d lost everything. My
attempts to bring my wife back had put me in further debt, and nobody was
willing to take a chance on me, work with me, or help me to get back on my
feet.
I never would have built my empire if it hadn’t been for that soul-hungry
demon.
I wasn’t stupid enough to believe my wellbeing was ever close to
Aculeus’s heart, but his support was convenient. Taking out a business rival
here, making a threat a little more convincing there—no surprise that
people were much more willing to negotiate if I presented my own personal
demonic enforcer.
And most importantly, I needed him to ensure that Kerys’s soul would
truly be reborn. Now that she was back with me, I had a chance to
reconsider. First and foremost, he had become a threat to her, but even if
he wasn’t, I wouldn’t have minded getting him out of my hair.
Killing Aculeus was off the table. Through our pact, his death would
have meant my undoing, too.
Breaking a bargain wasn’t entirely impossible for a mortal, but the
longer the bond existed, the more dangerous an attempt became. For
someone like me, whose body had been merged and infused with a demon’s
magic for over a century, there was no hope of coming out alive if I tried to
terminate our connection.
I would have given my life for my wife’s safety, without a second of
doubt. But if we pulled off our plan, there was a better way.
Kerys’s soulstone was exactly what we needed—and it would set us both
free.
My chest squeezed as I remembered our separation when we arrived,
how I felt her eyes boring into my back. It pained me not to look at her
when I left with the nun, but we had to stay in character.
My guide had led me through narrow, empty hallways, winding like
serpents. I always had an excellent sense of direction, and my demonic
imbuement only improved my ability to navigate. I could’ve found my way
back to the entrance in a heartbeat.
The nun brought me to a small waiting area, where we sat in silence. A
while later, she took me to an awfully bright chamber, its walls covered in
fine tapestries depicting the story of Dax’eia. They were hung up out of
order, and she handed me a letter allowing me to speak one last time for the
sole purpose of reciting the tale.
Clearly, this was a test to ensure applicants were familiar with the
foundation of their beliefs.
It was easy. Annoying as fuck, but simple enough. I hoped Kerys was
presented with the same challenge because it would have been a breeze for
her, too.
Afterward, the nun cast a simple spell to detect any magical objects
hidden on my person. Of course there was nothing to find, and she was none
the wiser about my demonic aura, either. Over the decades, I’d learned to
mask it well.
Finally, I was given a gray robe and put to work.
Since then, I had spent most of my hours on kitchen duty. I whiled away
my so-called free time in the mess hall for breakfast and dinner, in the
simple communal bath, or in a claustrophobic cell they had assigned to me
as my lodgings, where I faked meditation and deep contemplation.
A Gods damned prison seemed like a luxurious inn compared to the
rickety cot with its thin straw mattress and the wobbling stool in front of a
tiny writing desk, stacked with hand-written books on humility, simplicity
and some other trash I didn’t give a shit about.
At least most dungeons had fucking doors, but the Wordless Creed
apparently didn’t believe in privacy either. Seeing Kerys in her room when I
passed down the hallway of the dormitories had almost driven me to
insanity. How she kneeled on the cold stone floor in supposed prayer …
Fuck, it had taken every ounce of strength to stop myself from blowing our
cover just to hear her moans echoing through these hollow corridors.
Irritated, I glanced up from the pot at the fidgeting man by the sink.
He was young, perhaps in his early twenties. Brown curls swung around
z-shaped horns as he used a coarse brush to scrub food residue off rustic
stone dishes, hands red from sharp soap.
We’d worked together in the kitchen every day, and on a surface level,
he was just like the other members of the Creed: Silent, stoic, doing the
meditations and the chores, and overall being a solemn good boy.
But I saw behind the façade.
His tongue had the habit of darting to the corners of his lips while he
focused, proving it was still in its rightful place, and he hadn’t been sworn
in yet. When he thought no one was looking, his tail twitched, and his mouth
moved with silent words as if he found it difficult to keep quiet. His eyes
were always bloodshot from too little sleep, his cuticles bloody from
gnawing on them in secret.
I stifled a grin.
He was afraid. Rightfully so. This monastery was little more than a jail
indeed, and a non-magical mortal like him had no chance of ever getting
past the beast. It was hard to guess which expectations he’d brought with
him when he applied to join, but obviously, they had been disappointed.
A scared, isolated person was easiest to manipulate. If I played my cards
right, lent a sympathetic ear to his lonely plight, he would become my
puppet before he realized it. I wasn’t a nice man, but I was damn good at
acting like it if it suited me.
He was my best opportunity to take action.
I turned to the scratched table where we prepared the food, grabbing a
tattered notebook from behind the cutting board I’d used to dice the
potatoes. Identical tomes laid in every communal room, a scuffed pencil
dangling from a string sewn onto the cloth spine. Most were barely used, a
handful of pages filled with the plain orders needed to fulfill daily chores.
I flipped the book open, leafing through scribbles detailing a new bean
casserole recipe, the request to purchase another bag of coal and other
trivial correspondences.
When I reached the last page, I started writing. The scratching of the
pencil on rough paper had the young male spinning around. His lips parted
as he stared at me, sudsy water dripping from his hands onto the floor.
He was starved for attention, for interaction.
Are you okay? I have been watching you. You seem scared, like you
don’t want to be here, I wrote and turned the notebook, holding it out to
him.
He skulked closer, tail whipping like a skittish animal as he stopped an
arm’s length away. His eyes grew wide then narrowed while he looked from
the page to me. Back again. Wood clanked on stone as he dropped the
brush.
I knew what must have been going through his head, I saw it in his gaze.
It was the same clash of feelings that tore my chest apart the first time
Kerys approached me in the mine, offering freedom—and herself—to me.
Hope and mistrust.
The desperate need for an ally in a helpless situation. An impossible
wish for salvation.
I smiled, just a quick upward tug of my lips in case someone came in.
The man glanced over his shoulder at the door before his hands shot out,
ripping the book from my grasp. The tremor in his fingers turned his
penmanship jagged, but he had taken the bait.
I thought I hid it well, he wrote.
I gave a nod and stepped beside him, taking the pencil.
You do, I wrote. But I’ve always been empathetic, and I hate to see
anyone suffer.
A blatant fucking lie. Or more a half-lie.
I had a knack for reading people. Being alive this long had taught me to
pay attention to details in body language and facial expressions, minuscule
changes most folks weren’t consciously aware of. But far was it from my
mind to use that skill for the greater good. Manipulation was the name of
the game—always had been, always would be.
I laid the pencil atop the page, and he grabbed it again, scribbling on.
Are you going to tell on me?
I shook my head, giving another fast grin while I pried the pencil from
his white-knuckled grip.
I think we have something in common, and I want to be your friend.
He frowned at me, still not convinced.
I regret bringing my wife to the monastery, I wrote. We thought being
here would cleanse us of the hurt we caused each other, of the evil in our
hearts, but when the Creed’s physician treated her for nausea, we found out
she’s with child. I don’t want my offspring to grow up in this prison. We
want out.
His brows jumped. “Pregnant?” he mouthed, and my chin dipped in
confirmation of another bold-faced lie. His shoulders dropped as he sighed.
No one gets out, he wrote. I’ve been here a year. Another tried to leave.
Her screams started moments after she’d slipped through the door, and
they didn’t stop for minutes. You can’t fight that creature.
I took up the pencil again. Have you seen the beast? Why doesn’t it
attack the monks and nuns?
The man huffed as he wrote. No, I haven’t seen it. The other members
feed it sometimes, I’ve heard the ringing of cattle bells when they return
from the town. Only sworn devotees of the order can come and go freely. It
must have something to do with the initiation ritual, but I don’t know what.
I grabbed the pencil. I don’t intend to lose my tongue, and neither do I
intend to fight the beast. But I need help from someone who knows their
way around. Once I have what I need, we will escape and take you with us.
You have my word.
I held out my hand. His head tilted, and he chewed on his lip, staring at
my fingers, but hope won.
I won, as I always did.
He shook my hand, his grip firm, not at all befitting the pale shadow of a
man he was when we started our silent exchange. The prospect of freedom
invigorated him.
What do you need? he wrote and handed the pencil back to me.
I need to know where the tongues are.
He grimaced in disgust before he added another few sentences to the
page. I won’t ask what you need them for. If that’s your condition for
getting me out of here, I’ll tell you.
He paused, waiting until I nodded. His lips quivered, and I thought he
was going to cry, but instead, his mouth pulled into an unsteady smile as if
his muscles had almost forgotten the movement.
The tongues are hidden in the library, he wrote. The order only takes
them out for special occasions, but every night, before curfew, one of them
opens up the secret chamber and offers a prayer. I don’t know how to get
inside, though. There’s a lock with some secret rune language on it, and
only sworn members know the right combination.
I shrugged, taking up the pencil. No problem. Just show me where it is.
I’ll figure out—
Soft steps sounded from the hallway. The man startled and hurried back
to the sink, picking up the brush mid-stride. He clattered extra loud with
the dishes, creating a distraction while I ripped the page of evidence from
the notebook. I put the tome back behind the cutting board and took up
station at the pot. The crumpled paper dropped from my fist into the flames,
just in time for a white-haired nun to stick her head into the kitchen.
She glanced around the room, lips puckered like a strict teacher. Then
she turned her nose up at us and strode back the way she came.
I locked gazes with my new accomplice, finding his eyes shining with
defiance.
Finally, I thought. Progress.
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B
y dim candlelight, I laid on what must have been the realm’s most
uncomfortable bed. Straw poked my back as I pretended to be
immersed in the book of prayers in my hands, but I had no intention
to worship.
Earlier in the afternoon, while passing each other in the hallways,
Skrain slipped me a note, and that little square of paper was burning a hole
into the pocket of my itchy robes. I had waited hours for the right moment
to read it, distracting myself with memories of his fingers brushing mine as
he gave me the message, his touch electrifying my senses.
After a small eternity, the rustling of pages and shifting of cloth from the
other rooms stopped. Mine was the last candle burning. Everyone else was
asleep.
I sat up, gently closing the tome and slipping it beneath my pillow
before taking out the note. It was a torn page from one of the chore books,
stark graphite lettering on thin, coarse paper.
I figured out where the tongues are. Retrieve the gem and prepare
everything for the invisibility enchant, you’ll find potion brewing equipment
to distill the blood in the kitchen. Then meet me in the library at one hour
past midnight. I can’t wait to be out of this hellhole so I can fuck you silly. I
miss you, my darling wife, my priceless treasure. I love you.
A tingling in my belly, I held in a giggle. White flashes of memories
crossed my thoughts, passing dirty notes in the mine pit when he delivered
gems for me to appraise. We had always found a few minutes and an
excuse, a dark corner to relieve the fire burning in our chests and loins.
When had pure sex turned into love? I wondered. When had I begun to
trust this criminal who captivated me with his rugged charm?
 I shook my head and shoved the paper into my pocket, images of the
past disappearing like thin smoke. In time, I hoped I would recall more and
more of our life then, but as curious as I was, our future was the most
important.
My feelings for Skrain were too strong to ignore. My love for him was
real, and the past days had only renewed my determination.
For better or worse, I couldn’t be without him. Even in this second
chance at life and love, he was the one I chose—the one I’d choose over and
over. And if I never regained all my memories, if I never remembered
everything we used to have, I’d enjoy every moment of getting to know him
again.
I was going to stay with Skrain, see this through to the end, and when
we faced the demon, I would be by his side.
Win or lose, live or die—we’d do it together.
A shiver crept up my legs as I placed my bare feet on the cool tiles
before slipping on my shoes. I took the stubby candle from the desk,
shielding it with one palm to dim its glow. My breath halted as I left my
chamber and snuck past dark, doorless rooms.
I flew through the winding corridors. At least I knew where I was going.
Assignments of cleaning the floors and tending to a little indoor garden in
another wing—plants kept alive by some sort of dome-shaped ward to
simulate sunshine—had allowed me to get a decent grasp on the
monastery’s layout.
A cup of tea for an upset stomach would’ve made for a good excuse if I
encountered anyone. But once I got to work, it would be impossible to
explain away boiling blood and cutting a gem from my flesh in the middle of
the kitchen.
My throat constricted. When I brought dirty dishes from the mess hall, I
saw the dull knives the order used for food preparation. Turning such a
blade on myself was sure to be less than pleasant, but—
“Keryssa,” a hiss sounded.
I froze, one foot in the air.
The monastery was spooky at night, but I didn’t think I’d start imagining
ghosts or—
A door to my left creaked open.
“Keryssa. Come here.”
No, I hadn’t imagined it. Someone from inside that pitch-black room was
whispering my name.
“Skrain?” I whispered. “Is that you?”
A snarl sounded, and something shot from the chamber. It snapped
around my wrist, yanking me into the darkness. The door fell shut behind
me, and I bit my lip to hold in a scream.
My pulse thrummed so hard I felt it in my neck, my hand shaking as I
raised the candle. I squinted, making out shelves holding cleaning supplies
and food preserves, obscured by a black mist wafting through the center of
the room.
“Not Skrain,” the voice hissed. “I should be insulted that you’d confuse
me with that pathetic mortal.”
My shoulders dropped as the fog took shape, and Aculeus appeared,
head ducking to fit beneath the low ceiling. A shudder racked my body.
Somehow, slouching like that, arms dragging along the floor, thorns
growing from his bent back, he looked more terrifying, more monstrous
than ever before. And now that I knew he’d manipulated my vision, played
me, it took every shred of self-control to keep calm.
“Why are you here?” I forced out, trying to rein in my nerves.
“Just checking in to see how our plan is advancing,” he purred. “I didn’t
take you as one for spiritual retreats like this.”
“I’m not.”
“So, you’re not going to tell me why you’re here, Keryssa?”
My brows quirked. “No, I’m not. But I’ll tell you that I’m doing what I
need to do to make the soulstone. And rest assured, Skrain is none the
wiser,” I said, putting all the disdain I could muster into my voice. “I can’t
believe how quickly he fell for my ruse. If he’d stop thinking with his
damned cock, he might actually see through me. But I guess that’s the
undoing of every arrogant, self-important man. They think everyone trips
over themselves to serve them and cannot imagine another reality.”
Guilt needled my heart.
Traitor, that was the role I had to play. Scorned wife set on revenge.
But even putting on this act made me feel sick to my stomach. I would
have rather thrown myself off a cliff or burned in the desert sun before I
betrayed Skrain.
Aculeus rattled a snicker. “Oh, Keryssa, but you are making sure to keep
his dick wet, aren’t you? Most days, you barely leave his bed. If I didn’t
know any better, I’d almost think you enjoy being his whore.”
I ground my teeth.
We’d assumed Aculeus might’ve been watching where Skrain couldn’t
detect him, and we acted accordingly, keeping up the front every minute of
every day.
Any sensitive topics were only discussed in my warded study, where
actually being inside the room with us was necessary to listen in. The wards
wouldn’t keep a powerful demon like Aculeus out, but they would ring,
alerting us to the intruder. They were a second safety measure beyond
Skrain’s sixth sense for his presence.
But to hear it confirmed that the demon spied on us made my skin crawl.
“I know how to fake orgasms,” I responded flatly, unwilling to let my
anger and worry show.
The lilt of a grin tinted his tone as he continued. “It was difficult to make
contact, what with you riding Skrain’s cock every waking minute—
metaphorically and literally.”
 “Sorry.” I shrugged. “The rune doesn’t allow me much flexibility either.”
Aculeus scoffed. “I’m not surprised he hasn’t removed it. He’s a sick
man. Probably gets a kick out of knowing you can’t leave.”
I kept my expression as impassive as I could. “Probably.”
In fact, Skrain offered on multiple occasions to have Emily remove the
rune, and eventually, I wanted to get rid of it. But for now, it provided a
good excuse to avoid meetings with Aculeus, and the less I saw of him, the
smaller my chance of slipping up and revealing our secret ploy. I wasn’t
exactly spymaster-material.
His head cocked. “How did you persuade Skrain to allow you this much
freedom?”
“First, I apologized, said I was wrong and that I loved him. Then …” I
put my free hand on my hip, smirking. “I told him about the soulstone.”
The demon closed the brief distance between us so fast I didn’t see him
move. Every hair on my body rose. His aura made my stomach twist, a sour
burn scorching my throat, but I didn’t step away.
“You what?” he hissed.
“Don’t sound so Creators damned surprised.” I clicked my tongue. “How
else was I going to explain my search for the ingredients? I lied and said I
would help him create the stone to capture you instead.”
“Then consider this visit a little reminder, Keryssa,” Aculeus crooned. “A
reminder whose side you’re on, a reminder whose orders you’re supposed
to follow or—”
The door swung open. A blonde nun stood in the frame, candle in hand.
Her eyes rounded, the stump of her tongue flapping in her gaping mouth
like, well, like she’d just seen a demon.
Two thorny vines shot out from Aculeus’s body. One wrapped around the
woman’s waist, pulling her inside, the other closed the door before writhing
toward her face. She stood ramrod-straight, didn’t move, didn’t flinch, and I
figured he’d paralyzed her with poison like Skrain immobilized me.
Her panicked gaze was wild, snapping to me, pleading. I shook my head.
I couldn’t stop a demon by myself.
Motionless, I watched as one vine pried between her teeth, her throat
bulging as it forced itself down her esophagus. Aculeus shivered with quiet,
sadistic laughter while she choked, her chest swelling, her stomach
protruding. The veins on her face and neck darkened with shadow, red tears
streaming from her eyes, a trickle of crimson beneath her nose.
I was sure she would have screamed if she could.
Aculeus took his time corrupting her, feeding on her suffering, on her
terror. I stood as if I was made out of stone, an accidental onlooker.
Impartial. Disinterested.
Don’t show fear, I thought over and over, like a prayer. Don’t show fear.
Inside, my pounding heart was nearly cracking my ribs. My lungs
refused to draw air, and dizziness took a hold of me.
 Thorns erupted from the woman’s skin, long, black spikes, glistening
with her blood. They pierced her flesh, shredding it with wet squelches, her
bones first bending, then breaking with sickening cracks.
I swallowed a surge of bile, but I kept looking.
Skrain was strong, and he only possessed a fraction of Aculeus’s power.
Certainly, the demon could’ve easily killed her faster, but he was using the
opportunity to not only feed on her suffering but to make a point, to
intimidate me.
I didn’t want him to know how well it worked.
The demon’s body expanded into dense, black fog. It curled around the
woman’s ravaged form, enveloping it, swallowing it.
“Go, little Keryssa.” Aculeus snickered. “And don’t forget what I said.
Always remember whose side you’re on. I’ll check on you again soon, and
then you’d better present me with some progress.”
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I
whisked into the kitchen and set the candle on the table in the middle of
the room. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely use them, my
thoughts stuck on the gruesome spectacle I’d witnessed, but there was
no time to waste.
I lit a tame fire in the hearth and hung a small pot of water onto the
metal hook above it. My search through the pantry yielded a tin filled with
dried chamomile and fennel seeds, and I spooned a generous heap into the
pot.
At first sight, it would’ve seemed as if I was really just making some tea.
I turned to the cabinets of dishes and cookware. Behind dented pans, I
found dusty alchemy supplies, and I grabbed a round glass flask, its bottom
blackened from flames. Next to it laid a metal contraption akin to pliers with
a screw to tighten. If I clamped it around the slender neck of the glass
vessel, I could heat the solution inside without risking burns.
I rummaged around the cupboard some more, picking out a small vial
with a cork stopper. It smelled faintly of soap, and I considered it clean
enough for the distilled herbal solution. Finally, all tools prepared on the
table, I retrieved the sharpest-looking blade from the knife block by the
fireplace.
Hiking my skirt up in the front, I put one foot up on a stool and spread
my legs. One last glance at the door and the dull metal met my inner thigh,
taking achingly long to part my skin below the hidden bump.
I ground my teeth, had to force myself to keep looking as I set the knife
aside and pressed a finger onto the sensitive wound. Seeking distraction,
my thoughts drifted to Skrain’s name, carved right above my mound, and a
smile tugged on my lips. I adored that scar and everything it stood for. His
love and his ownership of me written in pink flesh.
 There was no denying how much I enjoyed the pain then, but this—no. I
got no pleasure from this.
My mouth went dry while I applied more pressure. Blood trickled down
my leg, and I groaned as a smoky quartz protruded from the cut. My other
hand cupped beneath, I held my breath, pushing down hard one last time,
and the jewel dropped onto my palm.
I put it on the table and held the flask under the gash. The room tilted,
but I needed to fill it at least halfway to extract enough of the herbal
solution.
My knees turned weak.
Creators, that seemed like a lot of blood.
I looked away, my lungs not responding to my desperate command of
controlling those hectic gasps. My eyes focused on the marbling of the
table. Scrapes on the old, light wood. Burn marks. Stains from vegetable
juices, herbs, and meat.
The earthy aroma of tea wafted through the chamber, but the scent of
iron from my leg was stronger.
My hands numbed with panic.
I lifted the flask. The outside was smeared red, but there was enough
inside to reach the middle mark.
I tripped toward the hearth, in passing grabbing a clean dishrag from a
shelf above the sink. As I used the metal rod to hold the flask into the fire—
hidden by the side of the pot—I shoved the cloth between my legs and
clenched my thighs to staunch the bleeding.
The clock above the door read half past midnight, my heart beating
faster each second. I leaned onto the counter, fighting off another dizzy
spell while I watched my blood boil. Soon, but not soon enough, the mixture
had been reduced to a pool of murky green liquid at the bottom of the flask.
By the table, I filled the vial and dropped the gem inside, corking it
tightly.
A long sigh rushed from my lips as I looked at the mess. Now, on to
cleaning up, eliminating any traces of—
A hand shot out from behind me, pressing onto my mouth, and I let out a
muffled scream. Someone yanked me back, into an unyielding wall of
muscle … and a sizable erection pushing against my spine.
Skrain?
Was I hallucinating from blood loss? Surely, I hadn’t taken that much.
Another hand reached around my waist, drawing down over my mound,
and rabid arousal tightened my core. Deft fingers pulled up my robe,
tugging the crimson-stained cloth from between my legs and tossing it onto
the table. A growl reached my ears, its echo a vibration along my back.
“Didn’t you know that the scent of blood from injured, helpless prey
attracts hungry predators?” Skrain whispered, a flick of his tongue over the
tip of my ear, and my breath stuttered.
 It seemed like eons since I last heard his smooth, dark voice. Since I last
felt his touch.
He released my mouth while I ran my fingers along his bare forearm,
goose bumps making the little hairs stand. “Maybe it was a trap for the
predator,” I murmured.
His low, villainous chuckle had my smallclothes dampening and my
nipples peaking.
“Yours is the only trap I would willingly fall into,” he said, exhaling the
quiet words against the side of my throat, each interrupted by a kiss, the
last placed in the middle of my nape. “Have I ever told you how much I love
that star-shaped birthmark you have right here?”
Before I could respond, his digits slid under my robe again, teasing
upward along the cut I made, his cock throbbing when I shuddered from the
ache. He cupped my sex, and I rocked against his palm while his tail
slithered up my leg, caressing.
“W-what if someone comes in? Skrain, we can’t be caught like this …”
My complaint was weak. Nothing but an unwilling, halfhearted attempt
to convince myself to resist. I didn’t stand a chance, and I knew it.
“Is that supposed to stop me?” he asked. “We’ll just have to keep quiet.”
What a horrible idea to do it now … What a fucked up idea to let him do
this to me, and yet—
Excitement rushed through me. We’d done it in public at the party and I
loved that, but here, the risk of getting caught was equally tantalizing.
I shook my head, choking on pleasure as I used his hand to rub myself.
“No. Creators … n-no. I missed you so much. Please, master, I need you
right now.”
“Only a Hells-forsaken whore like you would beg for my cock in this shit
hole of a monastery,” he whispered, thumbing my clit. My legs buckled, and
I gasped as he pushed me forward, down onto the table, my breasts
pressing against the wood.
The hem of my robes flew up to my shoulders, my panties getting
yanked down to my ankles. His hot length pushed between my thighs,
sliding along my wound, and I whimpered.
“You really want to get fucked right now, huh? Do you want me to
drench my dick in your blood before I impale you on it?” he hissed into my
ear, one hand on my hip, the other fisting my hair, bending my neck back to
the point of aching.
“Yes, master.”
His face hovered at the edge of my vision, shining eyes reflecting the
flames in the hearth, his cruel grin sharp as the tip of an arrow. He looked
otherworldly, horns throwing flickering shadows onto the stone wall.
He was dangerously handsome.
“Tell me who owns you, Kerys,” he snarled. “Tell me who this pretty, wet
hole belongs to.”
“You, Skrain,” I whined. “All of me belongs to you, master.”
 “Then shut up and spread your cunt for me.”
I reached behind me and dug my fingers into the soft, slick folds
between my legs, pulling them apart. Cheek against the table, I waited,
anticipation squeezing my chest.
“That’s my good little wife,” he said, the head of his cock lingering at my
entrance. “Look at that gorgeous, pink pussy. All mine. I’ll never get enough
of this sight.”
His hips canted, and he drove into me in a smooth, slow movement.
“I’ll never get enough of the way you grip my dick,” he groaned, and as
if my body only existed to serve him, my inner walls clenched tighter. “I
want to take my time with you, enjoy you. Shit, you have no idea how much
I missed you, how much I need this—how much I need you, Kerys.”
He kissed my cheek, the side of my eye, and I giggled breathlessly.
“Then tell me,” I said.
“I’d rather show you, my priceless treasure.” His hand snapped from my
hair onto my lips once more. “But I know how loud you get.”
Without warning, he pulled back and slammed into me again. I moaned
into his palm, his tail lodging itself between my legs, rubbing my clit with
each thrust.
I was desperate for his touch. So desperate, so quick to dive into the
heat coiling in my middle, I didn’t feel my climax approach until it hit me
with all its might.
Sparks lit up the dark canvas of my eyes as I squeezed them shut.
Pleasure rippled along my spine, streaming into every inch of my body.
Skrain came as fast and hard as I did, his form convulsing against my back
as his release flooded me.
“Damn,” he panted and pulled out. “One orgasm isn’t enough for my
wife, but we don’t have time for more.”
He grabbed me by the shoulders, standing me up and turning me
around. I blinked at him, dazed. He kissed me and took another fresh cloth
from the sink, giving me a superficial clean before he pulled up my panties,
favoring my mound with an appreciative tap.
His seed dripped from my entrance, and I squirmed while I smoothed
over my robes, my uncomfortable groan making him snicker. He wiped
himself down and tossed both rags into the fire before he tucked away his
cock and tied his trousers. I was still reeling, barely managing to stand.
“We have to get this wrapped up and meet our new friend,” he said, still
whispering.
Friend?
My brows rose with a few urgent questions, my mouth already opening
to voice them, but Skrain lifted a placating hand.
“Trust me, he’ll be useful,” he cut in before grabbing the alchemy
supplies from the table and marching to the cupboard, shoving everything
inside. His tail swung as he rushed to the fire, extinguishing it, pouring the
herbal water down the drain before stowing the pot with the others.
 I grinned at him, sliding my cum-sticky thighs together. “Fine. But you
owe me an orgasm.”
“More than one, my darling wife,” he said, favoring me with a
mischievous wink. “Grab the vial, and let’s go. The sooner we’re out of here,
the sooner I can fulfill that promise.”
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The library wasn’t far from the kitchen.
On the way, Keryssa told me about her encounter with Aculeus, and
rage flooded my veins. We knew he would come to her again sooner or
later, but I hated the thought of him threatening her. I hated the thought of
me not being there to protect her. While I couldn’t have fought the demon,
if worst came to worst, I could at least distract him, give her a chance to get
away, maybe find help elsewhere.
But my anger had to wait, and I stuffed it into the recesses of my brain. I
needed a clear head.
Our accomplice already awaited us in the shadows of tall, rustic
bookshelves, overstuffed with dusty tomes.
As I entered the massive chamber with Kerys on my arm, he stepped
out, waving while he approached. “Lurax,” he whispered, holding out a
hand to her.
I’d never asked his name. Names only furthered attachment, and he was
a pawn. Disposable.
My wife seemed to think otherwise, shaking his hand, smiling politely.
“Kerys.”
She always had a habit of being too nice to worthless rabble.
My tail lashed. The vines pressed into the underside of my skin,
tempting me to rip the guy’s head straight off. I cracked my neck, reining in
my frustration. She didn’t mean it that way, I knew, but she was beautiful,
and Lurax clearly wasn’t immune to her effortless charm.
Just another reason to get this over with.
I gestured at Lurax, who flinched like I’d just startled him from some
sort of dirty daydream, and he finally tore his eyes from Kerys. Not that I
could blame him after a year of abstinence, but shit, he even thought she
was pregnant with my child!
“Stand guard,” I growled. “Right there by the door.”
Lurax nodded, quietly skulking across the gray tiles and taking up
position as I ordered. I didn’t sense magic in him, and he was too scrawny
to be an experienced fighter. If we did get caught, he wouldn’t be much use
… but he’d make a good decoy.
Clenching my jaw, I approached three paintings on the west wall. They
depicted Dax’eia in various art styles, each with a different signature, but I
didn’t care for the works themselves.
I took the left one off its nail, revealing an ornate, circular plaque
embedded into the stone wall. With its concentric rings of runic symbols, it
could have passed for a decorative piece, but upon closer inspection, it was
apparent that the rings were meant to be rotated independently.
The glyphs weren’t similar to Xar’vathi or any other language I spoke or
heard of, but I didn’t need to know what they meant to solve the riddle.
Kerys gave me a questioning look as I leaned the artwork against one of
the shelves.
“Lurax told me where to find the tongues. Earlier, we came here to
clean, and while dusting the frames, I slipped a flowering vine behind the
painting to spread invisible pollen across the mechanism,” I whispered,
holding a hand in front of the wheel. “Now I just have to …”
The warmth of my magic flowed through me, and the pollen dust began
to shimmer a subtle gold. I grinned. Just as I’d suspected, whoever had been
on prayer duty tonight left clear fingerprints.
“How clever,” Kerys teased, and I bowed my head in feigned humility.
“You know me, my darling wife. I get what I want, either by choice … or
by force.”
She flushed again, giving a breathy giggle, and blood rushed to my dick.
Fuck, she really was a massive distraction, but the lock demanded my
attention.
I worked my way outward, aligning the fingerprint-marked runes along a
vertical line at the top. A soft click sounded, and the gentle grinding of cogs
drifted from behind the wall. Impressive. This was the only well-maintained
part of the monastery, not close to falling apart, rusted, chipped, stained or
otherwise showing signs of aging.
The wall slid aside to reveal a sizeable square chamber. A lantern
dangled from a short chain affixed to the low ceiling, a blue flame flickering
to life as I ducked my head and stepped inside.
Shelves were carved into the stone, loaded with rows of jars, their lids
sealed with wax and some sort of runic scripture. Inside each, preserved in
a light-yellow fluid, swam a tongue. While there might not have been many
living members at one time, the Creed sure had accumulated quite a
collection throughout the centuries.
 Kerys entered behind me. She made a beeline for the furthest shelf at
the opposite end of the room, picking out the dustiest jar she could find.
With a shrug, she returned and held it up to my face.
“It says eternal silence of the faithful dead,” she whispered. “I figure the
older the better, and that far back, they’re less likely to notice one is
missing.”
“I agree. Let’s go, we have what we need,” I responded, guiding her out
with a hand on her back.
Lurax’s head twisted as we exited, and I forced a grin. He exhaled a
breath of relief before looking out into the hallway again.
I turned the wheel to its previous position, and the wall closed. With the
painting in its rightful place, it seemed as if we’d never been here.
We joined Lurax by the door, and Kerys handed me the jar to take the
vial from her robe’s pocket.
She focused, and when the herbal essence glowed, being absorbed into
the gray gem, a real smile curled my lips. Kerys in full command of her
magic was a delightful sight. I’d always admired her work, her talent, and
the creative applications of her powers.
A tickle drifted over my skin as the magic took hold. The world around
us shimmered, like a sheer, white veil had dropped over us. Kerys took the
jewel from the vial and closed her fist around it, discarding the glass vessel
behind the nearest row of books.
“This spell is very potent. You can imagine it like a bubble that makes us
invisible to everyone, including demons, dampening any noise our bodies
make. Steps, heartbeat, breath. Even speech. But it’s an active
enchantment, which needs my constant maintenance, energy, and focus. I
can’t hold it forever,” she said, voice thinning slightly with strain. “Don’t
stray from my side, keep as close as possible. And whatever you do, don’t
walk into anyone. We’re still physically in this realm and can’t pass through
people or objects like a ghost.”
“Understood.” I pulled Kerys close while I glanced at Lurax. “And you?
Understood?” He swallowed hard, chewing on his lip as he nodded.
“So far, so good,” I said. “Onward to the maw of the beast then.”

I took the key for the outside door from its hook and slid it into my pocket.
The door built into the towering wooden gate leading to the creature’s
chamber was still unlocked and unguarded. They didn’t need to lock it—the
monster was deterrent enough to stop stragglers from wandering out. I
opened the exit just enough for us to slip through. Me first, then Kerys—her
hand clutching the gem firmly encased in mine—then Lurax.
The repulsive, sweet stench of decay and sulfur hung heavy in the air.
Clusters of orange mushrooms with glowing, spear-shaped caps grew from
piles of cracked bones, both humanoid and animal remains, dipping the
vast, rectangular chamber into dim light. A few boulders littered the
ground, but the beast was nowhere in sight.
Our accomplice gagged. One hand flew to his mouth, the other pointing
upward in panic.
I raised my gaze to the ceiling, and my pulse picked up, my body
stiffening.
There, in the corner above the exit, lurked the most fearsome animal I’d
ever seen.
It perched on a web of shimmering gossamer strands, what I assumed to
be some of its victims hidden in cocoons of iridescent purple silk.
A bone spike tipped each of its eight triple-jointed legs, attached to a
bloated, gray carapace. Curved, serrated mandibles as sharp as blades
protruded from its front, clicking and shifting as it twitched. A sea of eyes
covered its body like orbs of burning crimson, pulsating with a dim glow.
They all moved individually, flicking and rolling, surveilling its lair.
Now it made sense why we’d been blindfolded. I guessed that making
eye contact with the creature would drive it into a frenzy.
How the Creed had summoned and bound this demonic being was a
mystery—one I didn’t have the leisure to ponder.
“Get it together,” I hissed at Lurax. “Move.”
He didn’t respond, staring at the huge arachnid. I dragged him along by
the wrist, shaking my head. What a weak-willed excuse for a Xar’vathi.
We were about halfway through the room, avoiding skulls and ribcages,
treading on squelching soil between patches of fungi, when Kerys gasped.
I knew immediately what she meant. I felt it, too.
“We need to hurry,” she breathed. “I think the herbs were too degraded.
My spell is slipping, and I can’t stabilize it no matter how hard I
concentrate.”
“Not much further now.” I quickened my pace. “Don’t think about it. Just
walk.”
“Oh, Gods help us!” Lurax raved. He dug his heels in, ripping his arm
from my grasp. “We’re dead! We’re dead!”
“Calm down, please,” Kerys said, laying a hand on his shoulder, but he
pulled away.
“This thing will eat us!” he screamed, fingers digging into his cheeks.
“We will end up like-like the others!” He was shaking, tail lashing back and
forth, sweat trickling down his temples.
The gigantic spider flinched, turning in our direction.
Shit. The spell was weakened enough to let our movements shine
through.
“Either come with us or stay, I don’t care,” I growled. “But we are going.
Right now.”
That seemed to snap him out of it. His eyes widened. “No, no … don’t
leave me!” he sobbed. “I’m sorry, I—”
 The spell slid from our forms like a smooth silk curtain. Goose bumps
cascaded down my back to the tip of my tail, and Kerys’s hand trembled in
mine.
All of us froze.
“Don’t move. Don’t even look at it,” I hissed. “Those eyes aren’t just for
show. It might not notice us if we stand still.”
The arachnid lifted a single leg. Its mandibles clacked. Foamy green
liquid oozed from its maw, falling onto the glimmering threads at its feet,
dripping to the soil, forming a sizzling puddle.
I knew what I had to do. So long as I was alive, no harm would befall my
wife.
“On three we run.” I shoved the tongue jar into Kerys’s arms. “One.
Two. Three.”
I scooped her up and broke into a sprint as she dropped the gem—it was
worthless now. From my periphery, I watched the beast jump to the ground.
It dashed toward us, skittering legs almost too fast to see.
My heart thundered, and I glanced at Lurax, running by my side.
Well, he was useful after all.
My tail lashed, hitting him in the back of the knees. He fell, screaming.
His head turned as he twisted, and in that split second our gazes met, I saw
condemnation in his eyes.
Betrayal. Hurt. Rage.
Pity I didn’t give a shit.
I hit him again, in the face this time, opening a gash along his forehead.
Just as I’d told Kerys, no predator could resist the scent of blood. The lure of
easy, injured prey.
Neither could the demonic arachnid.
It leaped, the ground shaking as it landed a few feet from us.
I didn’t look back. Neither did Kerys.
Not even when Lurax’s last word was traitor, ended by the gargling of
blood. Or when the snap of his bones echoed in my ears. When the wet
tearing of flesh was all that was left of him, I yanked the key from my
pocket, and we slipped out into the antechamber, locking up behind us.
The only person who mattered was in my arms, smiling up at me,
clutching that grotesque jar to her chest. In her gleaming eyes, I read trust.
Gratefulness. Adulation. Love.
In the past, I’d never needed a justification for murder or violence, and
there was no point in pretending I needed one now.
I killed because it was my job or to achieve my goals, if someone stood
in my way or insulted me. I killed because I enjoyed it, and other times to let
out the rage simmering in my marrow.
In truth, I always thought I was born to kill and destroy.
But killing for my wife, to protect her, to please her … Gods, it felt like
my holy duty. And that whispered thank you falling from her plump lips, the
adoration in her voice … they were the worthiest rewards I could have
thought of. I would have felled kings, burned down the continent, and
slaughtered an army of demons just to make her look at me like that, with
such devotion in her eyes.
“Told you we’d make it,” I said as I opened the door to the outside.
Above, the bright moon hung like a silver lantern, and far in the distance
below, shimmered the capital city, the jewel of the desert, Xalax’ar. Fresh
air filled my lungs, carrying the scent of roses and sand.
“I never doubted you, dear husband.” She tilted her head back, pressing
a ticklish kiss onto the base of my neck. “That’s why I wasn’t afraid.”
“My pretty liar.” I winked as I set her on her feet. “Admit it, you were a
little afraid.”
“Yes, but not for myself.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, interlacing our fingers as we strolled
down the mountain path.
I had no concerns about being followed. The exit was locked, the key in
my pocket, and with a bit of luck, everyone inside the monastery was still
asleep anyway.
“I knew that if it came to a confrontation with the arachnid, you would
stay to fight and protect me.” She paused, chewing on her lip. “And you
wouldn’t have allowed me to remain with you.”
Blood flowed to my cheeks, probably turning them a ridiculous shade of
red.
Me.
She had been worried about me.
“You’re right.” I squeezed her hand. “And I’d never forgive you if you
sacrificed yourself for me.”
She regarded me with a grim smile. “I know.”
“Hey, don’t look so sad,” I said, tousling her hair. “That won’t happen.
We’ll be together from now until the end of our lives. I promise. When all of
this is over, we’ll have Emily find a way to extend your lifespan to match
mine. She’ll love the challenge.”
Kerys stayed quiet.
“Don’t you want to?” I asked.
“That’s not it. I want to be with you for as long as I can, but …” She
glanced up at me, eyes misty. “What if the demo—”
I shook my head. “I don’t want to hear it, and I don’t want you to think
that way. We’ll be together. I’ll move the Heavens and Hells to keep you by
my side, my darling wife.”
She let out a long sigh. “I’ll hold you to that.”
I curved an arm around her waist, pointing to the city. “After days in this
shit-stained, awful monastery, I can’t wait to enjoy the luxuries Xalax’ar has
to offer. But most of all …” I leaned over and kissed the top of her head,
inhaling the scent of mild soap, her sweet musk, and a hint of salt from the
exertion of our escape. “I can’t wait to share them with you.”
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Ifound Kerys on the balcony.
Hands braced on the wide stone railing and back turned to me, she
stood by a group of ornate iron chairs, looking out over the bustle of
Xalax’ar’s busiest, most expensive market. Up here on the top floor of the
commerce guild’s tower, an organization I owned and led, the shouts of
merchants proffering their wares and customers bargaining didn’t reach us.
I paused on the doorstep, my heart swelling as I took in her ethereal
beauty against the backdrop of the setting sun.
Apricot and pink streaked the sky, a strip of velvet darkness descending
upon the colors, devouring them as the paling day fell to its knees before
the caliginous allure of the night.
I couldn’t help thinking that all of Xar’vath humbled itself, bowing to my
wife’s radiance.
Royal-blue silk draped over her curves like the moonlit ocean. It rippled
in the warm evening breeze, and clusters of tiny azure gemstones, carefully
sewn onto the fabric, flickered like fireflies. The halter strap neckline and a
dramatic, plunging cut at the back revealed her slender spine almost down
to her rear, each vertebra pressing against sun-kissed skin shimmering with
the subtle sheen of scented oil.
She’d picked it out from thousands of bottles at Xalax’ar’s most
esteemed perfumer, not realizing it had been her favorite a hundred years
ago, too. I smelled it from here, drinking in the heady fragrance.
Spiced rose. Saffron. Incense and vanilla.
It suited her so well. Sweet and alluring, with a touch of heat.
I rolled my shoulders, wetting my lips as I imagined drawing my tongue
from the base of her neck to her firm ass, licking my way to her pussy.
 Kerys spun around, skirt billowing. Her eyes were rimmed with
seductive black liner, widening as they met mine, her smile bright as the
flames dancing in my chest. My attention flicked to the outline of her
pierced nipples beneath the gown, and she pulled her shoulders back,
twirling once as if to present herself to me.
“What do you have there?” she asked, head tilting while she pointed at
my hand, the fine golden bangles on her arms jingling. She tiptoed a few
seductive, playful steps closer, hips swaying. “Is it a surprise for me?”
I noticed an empty glass perched on the railing, a puddle of red wine
remaining at the bottom, the flush of alcohol tinting her cheeks.
Typical, I thought, and a smirk tugged on my lips. Always draining my
vintage reserves and on the hunt for shiny gifts.
She might not have remembered all of her past, but Gods, my wife was
back.
If I’d ever had a single doubt, the days since we arrived in the capital
would have scattered them all. Kerys had come into full bloom. She was as
radiant and fierce as the sun.
Maybe it was the close call in the monastery or the energetic
atmosphere of the city, but as she breezed through the stalls in the plaza,
spending my money on clothes and gems and perfumes, trying every
delicacy and every wine, she became herself again.
Her confidence had returned. Her appetite for life.
I lifted the jewelry case and strolled toward her. “Only the best for my
queen. Come to me, my darling wife, and let me look at you. As always,
you’re an apparition of pure grace on this lovely night.”
Kerys giggled as she sprinted toward me, her strappy heels clicking on
the marble tiles. She laced her hands behind her back, looking at the little
box, then to me, brows quirked. I opened the lid, and she squealed.
“Oh Creators, they’re gorgeous, Skrain!” She ran a freshly-manicured
nail along the cascades of pear-shaped, dark sapphires and light blue
tourmaline attached to golden studs. “Thank you!”
“They’re enchanted as well, so you won’t have to worry about your
language skills tonight.” I smiled. “May I put them on you?”
She gave an eager nod, brushing her wavy hair behind her ears. I pulled
the backing off one earring and carefully threaded it through her pierced
lobe.
“Did you color-coordinate our garments?” she asked, glancing at me
from the corner of her sparkling eyes.
I huffed, my tongue toying with my lip piercing as I pushed the second
earring through her other lobe. “I did. Don’t you like it?”
“Oh, no! I love it! You’ll be the most handsome man in the capital
tonight.”
My gaze drifted down over my blue silk tunic, half open to show off my
locket and her name carved into my chest. I combined it with airy, light
trousers, allowing for breathability, a braided golden belt and soft shoes
made from the same gilded leather providing the finishing touches. I also
had my horns decorated with fresh pearls, new jewelry in all my piercings.
Seeing Kerys’s courage to rediscover herself and live true to the woman
she found beneath layers of Ella, gave me the push I needed to look inward
and search for the man I used to be, too.
I felt more like myself than I had in a century, and I was finally settling
back into my emotions—controlling them, feeling them, enjoying them.
Though the pact with Aculeus had prevented me from aging, I had felt like a
frail old man all these years. My soul brittle, my bones aching with grief.
All of it seemed so far, so distant now, like someone else’s bitter
memories.
Through my wife’s presence, her happiness, and her bravery, I was born
anew. With Kerys in my life, I was a young man in love.
“I’m only the most handsome tonight, huh?” I quipped and flicked her
left earring.
“No. You always are,” she responded in a hurry, grinning. “The guests at
the festival will whisper among themselves. Forget the Emperor, they’ll say.
Look at this man, isn’t he divine?”
“And look at his stunning wife, they’ll say,” I cut in. “Aren’t they lucky to
have each other?”
“Very,” she purred, long, dark lashes fluttering. “By the way …” She bit
her glossy lip, eyes flicking to the floor. “I adhered to your order, master.”
My dick throbbed. I fucking loved it when she called me master.
“I’ll have to check for myself,” I said and grasped her hand, raising it,
twirling her. Her laughter echoed across the balcony as I pulled her against
my chest, into a long kiss. My mouth covered hers, my hands dancing over
her waist, one sliding into the side slit of her dress to her bare hip.
“Good girl,” I murmured. “You’ve done exactly as I told you. No panties
tonight.”
I teased along her cunt, playing with the diamond above her clit. She
moaned, and when I found her already wet, I sunk two digits into her. Her
pussy clenched around me, her hips rolling as she fucked herself with my
fingers.
I let her, sucking on her lips while I kissed her, my other hand twisting
her nipple through the dress until she tensed. I knew she was close to
coming, and she whined as I pulled out of her.
My rock-hard erection strained against its cloth prison. By the Gods, I
would have loved to fuck her, but my priceless treasure deserved a lesson in
patience. Before the night ended, I’d have her coming on my cock—though I
had no intention of letting her know about that. Not yet.
For the next few hours, she would suffer.
Her eyes went wide as I licked her essence from my fingers before I
reached into my pocket, pulling out my second gift for her.
 Apart from our plan to gather the second ingredient for the soulstone—
the royal blood of a broken heart—I had come up with an idea to make our
visit to the theater even more enjoyable.
I knew how much my wife loved exciting entertainment, lavish
debauchery, and naughty secrets. Tonight, she’d get all three.
The weighty golden plug shone in the twilight, and Kerys’s breath
stuttered as she drew a finger over the bulbous tip. She traced down the
thickening, girthiest part in the middle to the drop-off point where the metal
narrowed into a smooth neck, ending in a round, flat base with a faceted
sapphire.
Under different circumstances, I would have considered this indulgence
a distraction, but Emily was to play the main character during our ploy. We
only had supporting roles.
“For me?” Kerys repeated her question from earlier, but her tone was
low, unabashed desire in the two syllables, and her heated stare shot right
to my groin.
Fuck, the little minx knew exactly how to make this difficult for me.
I drew the tip of the plug up the inside of her thigh, making her shudder.
“You’ll wear this for me tonight.”
“All night? It’s so big …” she said and let out a low moan as I dragged
the metal between her folds, coating it in her slick arousal.
“You’ll wear it for as long as I want you to, Kerys.” I pushed the toy
inside her cunt, and her head tipped back as she fell forward, against me.
“By the end of the culture festival, you’ll be dripping down your legs and
begging for my cock like my perfect, dirty slut. Won’t you?”
“Y-yes, master,” she keened. “Anything to please you.”
I pulled the slippery plug from her pussy and pressed it against her tight
asshole. Slowly, I twisted the tip inside. Her legs trembled, her hands
reaching back, under her skirt, spreading her cheeks for me.
“Consider this your punishment for every time you’ve defied my orders,
my darling wife,” I growled, watching her mouth slacken and her eyes roll
as I pushed the toy all the way inside. “A disobedient brat like you has to
walk among Xar’vath’s elite with a plug stretching her tight ass.”
I ran a finger along the rim of her puckered hole, adjusting the gem,
making Kerys curse under her breath. Her distant gaze was glassy, and my
other hand found her chin, making her look up at me.
“You’ll meet the Emperor and his wife tonight,” I whispered. “You’ll
speak to the most important people on the continent, all while squeezing
that thick toy in your little hole. Better make sure they don’t notice, or you’ll
ruin both our reputations. Can you promise to be a good girl and hold back
your orgasms until I allow you to come?”
She nodded.
“Say it out loud,” I demanded.
“I … I’ll be a good girl. I won’t come until you give me permission. I
promise, master.”
 A spike of desire surged from my balls into my cock. Hells, this woman
was my weakness. My beautiful, flawless, dearest weakness.
Her love was the glistening sword to impale my heart, and she was the
sweet poison to end me. I’d drink her until my final breath, throw myself
onto her blade until the last drop of my blood was spent.
“I’m warning you, Kerys. If I catch you taking the plug out or touching
yourself, giving yourself any kind of relief …” I brought my hand down onto
her ass in a hard smack. She yelped, shoulders snapping up and eyes round.
I couldn’t stop myself from smirking.
She was so fucking hot trying to keep it together.
“If I catch you doing any of that, I’ll tie you up and fuck you in the
central plaza,” I finished, pointing over the railing. “And I’ll let anyone who
wants to have a turn.”
She frowned. “You wouldn’t.”
Pah. Of course I wouldn’t, I thought, but my answer was a different one
—for the sake of her thrill.
“Try me and find out, Kerys.”
She pouted before taking a deep breath. Her shoulders squared, an
impish smile curling her mouth as she laid a dainty hand on my arm.
“As you wish, my beloved husband,” she cooed.
I grinned, trying to get my raging erection under control as we walked
from the balcony into the spacious living room and to the exit.
My wife wouldn’t be the only one having a hard time keeping her
composure tonight.
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B
raziers flickered along the towering sandstone walls of the theater.
Red curtains hung on the inside of arched windows with engraved
frames, their geometric patterns drawing my eyes upward to an
opaque crystal dome atop the roof, shimmering like a crown.
Long shadows of arriving guests danced on the square, separated from
the rest of the city with stanchions and velvet rope, guarded by soldiers in
full armor. Clusters of onlookers gathered around the barrier, stealing
glances at Xar’vath’s rich, famous, and powerful.
Our open carriage stopped in front of the entrance, and Skrain got out
first, offering his hand as I disembarked. I smiled, trying to forget how the
weight of the plug made my knees weak. After a ride filled with merciless
teasing, every bump in the road making me awfully aware of the toy in my
ass, my body was buzzing.
The air crackled with joyful anticipation, soft murmurs and gentle
laughter streaming from the crowd of nobles and magnates in colorful,
elegant clothing funneling toward the theater. As we joined the throng of
guests, I inhaled the scent of mixing perfumes, breathing in the collective
excitement.
I’d been here before. I couldn’t say when or why, but my chest lightened
with recognition as I craned my neck to admire the stone-carved columns
supporting the grand entrance.
“It warms my heart to see you so happy. Your smile is my favorite sight,”
Skrain said as I hooked my arm under his and we ascended a set of low
steps. “You shine brighter than all the stars in the sky, Kerys. I can’t fathom
how I have lived a century in the dark without you.”
 My hand skimmed along the side of my curving mouth. I hadn’t even
noticed I was smiling. “I think I’ve never enjoyed myself as much as I have
since we came to Xalax’ar.”
“You always liked the capital. We could take up permanent residence
here if it pleases you, but a lack of privacy will be an issue. City folks are
too nosy. And the damn gossip … don’t get me started,” he said, a hint of
annoyance in his tone.
Some people had begun to recognize Skrain, and as we stood in line
beneath a magnificent crystal chandelier to present our tickets, his name
echoed from all corners of the grandiose lobby. He inclined his head
politely, gesturing and smirking, his tail swaying.
“If it wasn’t for all these vultures, I might even enjoy the night,” he
mumbled under his breath, keeping a perfect smile plastered on his face as
he waved back at an elderly lady with a strange assortment of feathers
artistically arranged around her spiral-shaped horns. With a satisfied smile,
the woman resumed admiring one of the countless massive paintings
decorating the lobby.
I squeezed his arm. “Come on, try to have at least a little fun. You said
this is the most important cultural and social event of the year.”
“It is. Everyone comes to the Au’rulka Araki—The Golden Sands Festival
—to watch performances by the best bards, actors, poets, musicians, and
singers. Sometimes even warriors present their battle prowess on stage in
friendly sparring matches.”
“But?” I raised my brows.
“But more so, this night is the number one opportunity to see and be
seen,” Skrain said, eyes sliding to me as we inched forward. “Au’rulka Araki
is as much about making business connections, climbing the social ranks,
and forming noble alliances as it is about honoring the best of the best
Xar’vath has to offer. I just—”
“Excuse me, Mr. Ra’shok!”
My husband’s head snapped up. He looked to a middle-aged, stout male
with twisted horns rushing toward us. The man gripped Skrain’s hand in
both of his and shook it, his twirled, blond mustache wriggling as he huffed.
What he lacked on top of his head, he surely made up for in extravagant
facial hair.
“Dr. Mavix,” Skrain said. “What joy to finally meet you in person.”
The doctor took a linen tissue from his pocket, dabbing at his shiny
forehead and ruddy cheeks. “Excuse the intrusion, Mr. Ra’shok. My wife
pointed out when you arrived, and I just had to come over and say hello.
We’ve exchanged so many interesting letters, I feel like we’ve been pals for
years!”
“Absolutely,” Skrain responded, that same stony grin still carved into his
features. It softened a fraction as he gestured to me. “This is Keryssa, my
wife.” He waved at the man. “And this is Dr. Mavix, an exceptional
physician and Xar’vath’s foremost expert in magical amnesia.”
 The pieces fell into place as I gave a courteous smile. It was he who
helped Skrain to find the ritual for the recovery of my memories.
“Ah, such a pleasure to meet you,” Dr. Mavix said, reaching for my hand
to breathe a kiss onto its back.
My chin dipped as I bowed lightly at the waist. “Likewise. I’ve heard
many great things about you and your work from my husband.”
A moment of silence floated between us until the grinning doctor stuffed
the tissue back into his pocket and clapped his hands, thin tail flicking from
side to side.
“Well then,” he exclaimed. “I’ll leave you two to enjoy the evening. I
believe my wife is getting impatient for my return.”
Skrain nodded, the gesture almost a tad too enthusiastic. “Better not
make her wait. Enjoy the performances, doctor.”
The man bowed and turned, waddling toward a red-haired female
Xar’vathi in an orange gown, waiting with a glass in her hand. She was
about two heads taller than him and probably twenty years younger, too,
but when she embraced him, her eyes lit up with genuine affection.
“So you don’t like small talk,” I stated.
Skrain grumbled in discontent as he handed our tickets to a steward
wearing a dark blue masquerade mask painted with silver moons and stars.
He waited until the man had pointed us to a set of wide, swooping stairs to
the right before he spoke again, keeping his voice to a whisper as we
climbed the steps.
“It’s not the small talk I despise. It’s the people. They’re so fucking fake,
I can’t stand it. Some of them are useful, like Dr. Mavix, but none of them
are true friends. None of them would have glanced in my direction when I
was a kid, stealing to survive. None of them would have spoken to me when
I was coinless, had no power. Now that I have money and the Emperor’s
ear, they all act like they know me, like we’ve been best friends since
childhood or something. Fuck that.”
I nodded as we reached the top floor. “I understand.”
We walked along a lavishly-decorated, curving corridor, past private
booths. Voices and the bubbling of water pipes drifted from the boxes, their
entrances shielded by more of those thick, red velvet curtains covering the
windows.
“The Gods be damned, Kerys, I could become the Emperor if I could be
bothered to deal with all the political horseshit,” Skrain whispered in my
ear. “Would you like that? To be the Empress and rule over this desert
paradise? To get fucked by the Emperor?”
He licked over my cheek, the stud in the middle of his tongue trailing
shuddering heat across my skin. His fingers dug into my rear, subtly drifting
to the middle, down, along the plug. I flinched and glanced over my
shoulder.
We were alone.
 “I want you,” I said, stepping into Skrain’s path, stopping him. “I wanted
you when you were a criminal and a prisoner, and I’d want you just the
same if you were a beggar or even the damn Emperor. Sure, I’m not going
to pretend that I don’t enjoy the high life, the money, and the luxury, and
I’m so grateful you settled my debt. But in the end, I want you. Through
thick and thin, the good and the bad, rich or poor.”
His eyes blazed with affection, nostrils flaring. A possessive growl
rumbled in his chest, and his hand snapped forward.
My back hit the wall hard, his digits tightening around my neck. His lips
claimed mine while his thigh pressed between my legs and a moan slid from
my tongue to his. The toy had me feeling so full already, the friction against
my clit was too much. My hips jerked, grinding against him, my lust
spiraling higher and higher. A little more and I’d tip over the edge—
Footsteps approached. Skrain straightened, wrapping an arm around
me, and I barely managed to smooth over my skirt before a group of women
in swooshing gowns passed by. We greeted them with courteous nods,
waiting until they disappeared into a box before we continued to walk, too.
“I can tell that you almost came. Remember: no orgasms until I allow it,”
he scolded as we reached the end of the corridor. He pulled back the red
curtain, gesturing for me to go inside. “Don’t make me punish you.”
I swallowed the rebuke budding in my throat. My cheeks burned as
bright as the desert sun this afternoon when I thought how fun it would be
if he did punish me …
“Yes, master,” I said instead, entering the box.
An amazed huff escaped me as I gawked at two plush sofas facing
toward the auditorium, separated by a small side table with a variety of
bottles, glasses, and a water pipe on it. I rounded the furniture to reach the
low railing, my nails drumming on the wood as I took in the atmosphere.
Our box was at the front, providing a fantastic view of the stage with its
polished wooden boards, aged from decades of performances. Copper
braziers lined the edge, illuminating a set of tall marble pillars holding up a
thick, dark blue curtain embroidered with abstract patterns and traditional
desert motifs.
Floating orbs of light shone down on cascading tiers of concentric
sandstone benches, each seat marked by a tasseled cushion in vibrant
colors. Above the auditorium rose three tiers of private boxes. Ours was on
the highest level.
Skrain stepped to my side, jutting his chin at the filling arena. “Seating
is based on wealth and social status. Everyone assembled is part of the
elite, but even among the upper brass, some are lesser than others. The
lowest ranks are the least important. The higher up, the more influential,”
he explained.
The rustling of cloth came from behind us, accompanied by a bright,
familiar voice. “You can’t set one foot in front of the other in this building
without ruining your shoes in a squelching puddle of self-importance oozing
from the esteemed guests.”
I turned to find Emily leaning in the doorway, one hand bracing on the
frame, the other holding the curtain aside.
My eyes widened as I admired the delicate cherry-red lace bodice of her
dress, revealing skin in strategic places along her waist and below her full
breasts. The pattern cascaded down to a flowing silk skirt in the same color,
scandalously high slits on both sides.
“Creators!” I exclaimed. “You look stunning … and-and blonde!”
Emily giggled, making a sweeping gesture down at herself before
running a hand along pearl-studded gold hair clips holding twisted strands.
“Thank you. A temporary visual change. You’d be surprised how versatile
hemomancy can be, wielded by an experienced caster. Because blood
saturates the body, the possibilities are near limitless.”
I quirked a brow. “I can’t even sense that you used any magic on
yourself.”
Emily flicked her head. “That’s the point.”
“Did your research, huh?” Skrain asked with a nod at her.
She smirked as she strutted to the right sofa and sat, answering while
she poured herself a glass of sparkling wine. “Of course. After all, I have my
sights set on the most famous and notorious target on the entire continent,
and to ensure success, I had to become exactly what he likes.”
Taking on her role for the night, Emily almost seemed like a different
person, less formal, less maternal, and far sexier than I’d ever seen her.
Perhaps she had missed her calling and should have become an actress
instead.
“No offense, sir. You’re the second most notorious, of course,” she
added. “But I have a feeling you don’t care much, now that you’re all
happily settled down.”
Skrain huffed a laugh and guided me to the other couch. He dropped
onto it and pulled me on his lap, his fingers drawing along my spine to my
ass. “The Emperor is just a tad more famous than I, and I have everything I
could ever need right here in my arms. I’ll leave the games of seduction to
you.”
My pulse picked up as I tried to ignore how his casual touch set my
pussy on fire, distracting myself by watching Emily pour another two
glasses of wine.
“That means Emperor Laxandral is here? All is going according to
plan?” I asked.
She nodded, handing each of us a drink. “Absolutely. Everyone is here,
apart from High Priest Luscinia, of course.”
Skrain’s laughter bounced around the box. “He’s still not over it!”
“The poor, poor man,” Emily said, grimacing before a smirk broke
through her act. “To have his beloved daughter run away from home to
become a bard of all things … and then have her most famous song become
so popular it gets played at the Au’rulka Araki? What a tragedy!”
The bustle down below quietened as the last guests found their seats. A
mid-sized orchestra took up position in a pit beneath the stage, and the
pleasant swell of tuning instruments filled the air. Strings humming, flutes
piping, violins fiddling, drums beating.
“Juicy gossip?” I asked, looking between Skrain and Emily.
“He didn’t tell you? This story is by far one of the biggest scandals the
empire has ever seen,” Emily said, leaning in conspiratorially. “You see, as
tradition demands, the High Priest’s first-born child is ordained to follow in
his footsteps, live in service to the Gods and the Emperor.
“And let me tell you … His daughter is considered the greatest beauty to
be born in this century. The populace nicknamed her the pale daughter
because of her alabaster skin and raven-black hair. Many wanted her hand
in marriage, but there was one man who remained untouched by her
charms and declined her father’s request to wed her.”
Skrain groaned, tail flicking and eyes rolling as he chewed on his lip
ring. “Nyxis was—is beautiful. But no one—”
“Wait!” I interrupted, my jaw dropping. “That Nyxis? The bard who
played at your birthday party?”
Skrain’s chin dipped. “She’s the runaway daughter.”
“Years ago, before Nyxis decided to forsake her life here, the High
Priest offered her hand to Skrain,” Emily teased. “But he said no. To be
frank, I never understood why. Hells, I would have accepted without
hesitation.”
I couldn’t help the corners of my mouth from tugging upward as I
glanced at Skrain. “So why did you reject the offer? Wouldn’t that have
been almost as good as marrying into the royal family?”
“Because I was waiting for you, Keryssa. I don’t want anyone else,” he
growled and kissed me so fiercely, my heart danced. “Your beauty, your
wits, your charm … everything about you is perfection. Incomparable.
You’re a Goddess to me, Kerys, and I’ll worship only at your altar—for as
long as I live. No one can compare, not even the pale daughter.”
I flushed, my face no doubt matching the shade of Emily’s dress as I
stammered.
“Gossip aside and back on topic,” she said. “Because my research has
shown that the Emperor likes to arrive late for all occasions, I was just
down in the lobby, and—” She paused, gaze drifting to the box directly
across from ours. “Or see for yourself.”
Emily stood up. A dazzling smile curling her blood-red lips, she curtsied
and toasted across the arena.
A mature male stood in the box on the opposite side, beside a set of four
lavish thrones. His elegant horns had gilded twists at the ends, standing in
a proud V-shape above a head of white hair, half up in a braided bun with a
jewel-studded clip.
 He brushed along his robes, the iridescent cloth in shades of dark
sapphire and amethyst creating an illusion of endless depth. Golden
embroidery shimmered along his sleeves as he raised his goblet at Emily
and sat on one of the middle thrones.
I recognized the man immediately from the murals and statues around
the city. They were true to life, down to his goatee and the bejeweled rings
along his strong, long tail.
Emperor Laxandral.
A woman stepped beside him, laying a hand on his shoulder, and his
attention snapped to her. White streaked her auburn hair, chains with
dangling jewels in the colors of the rainbow connecting her inward curving
horns. The sweeping silk train of her short-sleeved, forest-green dress
trailed behind her as she rounded the Emperor and took a seat on the other
middle throne. Her short, slender tail flicked while she kissed his cheek, and
he laughed.
Empress Nadyra.
Emily’s smile didn’t budge as she looked at us and sat again. “Well, he’s
quite handsome, but such a fucking pig! If I didn’t have to, I wouldn’t touch
a man like him with a barge pole. And I do feel a little bad about
embarrassing the Empress.”
Skrain scoffed, downing the wine before he set the empty glass on the
table. “We’re basically doing Empress Nadyra a favor. Maybe after tonight,
she’ll finally wake up and leave his sorry ass.”
“Leave him?” I asked.
“The entire continent knows that Emperor Veryn Laxandral can’t keep it
in his damn pants,” Skrain said. “Nadyra is smitten with him, always has
been since they were young. For him, it was a political marriage, nothing
more. He doesn’t love her, and she’s willfully ignored the decades of
infidelity because he kept it behind closed doors.”
“Good for us, I guess,” I mumbled, but my belly tightened with a twinge
of compassion for the Empress’s misery. “No easier way to get the royal
blood of a broken heart.”
The light orbs dimmed, blanketing the arena in darkness, and the
murmurs of the crowd died down. As the curtains parted, a company of
dancers in flowing, orange robes entered the lit-up stage while Skrain’s lips
brushed the shell of my ear.
“Try to focus and enjoy the show, my darling wife,” he whispered. “And
if you’re a really good girl, I’ll fill your ass with my cum before the
intermission.”
OceanofPDF.com
T he Royal Xar’vathi Ballet Company delivered a superb performance—
like they did every year as the opening act.
Tonight, their dancers pranced and twirled to premiere a new routine,
an interpretation of the creation of Xar’vath. Nascency, the announcer
called it. According to the program leaflet, their swaying bodies portrayed
soft dunes rising from the chaotic void, shaped by the hands of our
generous Gods. Their raised arms symbolized the ever-burning sun, their
fluid movements the water of our oases and the foundation of life amid the
desert.
It was compelling by all means. The best dancing company the empire
had to offer.
But my beautiful wife, squirming on my lap as I pushed my hand
underneath her skirt when the music started … fuck, that was so much
better. I could’ve entertained myself with her body for all eternity. And I
meant it when I said tonight would be a punishment for her—albeit a
pleasurable one.
I drew my fingers along the scars spelling my name, then down to her
slit, finding her soaked. Her bucking hips demanded more, faster, harder.
She wanted to get fucked right then and there, but I wasn’t in a giving
mood.
I felt like being cruel. My throbbing erection demanded I torture her in
the sweetest, most terrible ways I knew.
Each time she whined, I slowed down. When she reached for my digits, I
stopped. When she tried to speak, I covered her mouth with my palm, her
gloss sticking to my skin.
“No talking. No begging. No disobedience tonight,” I murmured. “Watch
the stage.”
 Kerys understood quickly.
The next performance, an abridged version of a classic Xar’vathi comedy
by the title of Love Fool was less suited to my taste, and I focused on my
teasing ministrations.
Laughter rippled along the audience as a clumsy man tripped over the
stage, and I pushed two fingers into Kerys’s cunt. Her inner walls clamped
around me, teetering on the edge of an orgasm. The mirth of the crowd
covered her quiet moans while she rocked against me.
I stopped her, using my tail to hold her in place while I pulled out just
before her climax gripped her. She shook atop my knees, tears in her eyes
and brows drawn as she looked at me over her shoulder, a pathetic
whimper escaping her. I sucked at her neck, her hand flying to my head,
gripping one of my horns while she pretended to focus on the play.
Emily glanced over at us. I challenged her, holding her gaze until she
grinned and turned her attention back to the stage where the male main
character followed a gorgeous lady in a silver gown. He presented her with
a rose, but she made no effort to acknowledge his presence.
Instead, a group of admirers surrounded her, offering gifts of gold and
jewels. The man’s facial expressions were exaggerated, the corners of his
mouth pulling down into a grimace as every attempt to capture his
beloved’s attention failed.
My shallow interest waned entirely, and I decided I had granted Kerys
enough of a break.
By the time a bearded bard in a gaudy purple tunic entered the stage,
carrying a dark, wooden lute, my hand was drenched in my wife’s essence.
Her breath came in gasps, her features flushed. Those silky thighs of hers
quivered as I reached for the plug, pulling it out as slowly as I could.
I put it onto the table, and reached for her face, pushing three digits
between her lips, making her taste herself. Her tongue swirled around
them, cheeks hollowing as she sucked. I inhaled a sharp breath, my dick
fighting to be let out from my trousers.
“That’s my good girl,” I whispered. “Get them nice and wet before I try
your ass. Now lean forward onto the railing, act as if you’re really enjoying
the music. Don’t make a scene, my darling wife. No one can know that I’m
going to fuck you in public at the most prestigious event of the year, right
under the eyes of the Emperor. We’ll be kicked out if anyone notices. Do
you understand?”
She whined, the noise almost making me come on the spot. I retreated,
and she braced her arms on the railing as I instructed. Her eyes stayed on
the bard who was singing an upbeat, cheerful tune that had the audience
standing and clapping along.
My hand slithered under her skirt, the light silk caressing my arm. I
tested her ass, the gently stretched hole accepting three digits with ease.
Her knees knocked as I pushed in up to my knuckles, her muscles holding
me firmly.
 For a few strokes, I moved with care, letting her get used to the feeling
as I twisted and spread inside her. To take my cock would be a far bigger
strain than this, but my impatience, my need for her, won over my self-
control at last.
I yanked out of her, making her gasp. As I unlaced my trousers and
stood behind her, she gave me the briefest glance and smirked.
I flicked her skirt up and held her by the hip, the fabric bunched in my
palm. I spat into my other hand and rubbed it along my erection before my
pierced head slid between her thighs, along her slick folds.
“You know this is going to hurt a little, don’t you?” I asked.
“Yes, master,” Kerys whispered, barely audible.
A shudder ran through me as I pressed my tip against her puckered
hole. “Do you want me to make it hurt more than just a little?”
Goose bumps pebbled her bare ass as she nodded. “Y-yes please,
master.”
“What a filthy slut you are, asking for more pain,” I grunted, pushing
forward.
The bulbous head of my cock pressed inside her. She clenched tight with
a groan, and I had to take a deep breath, counting down from ten to not
ruin the fun by coming. My thick shaft stretched her as she trembled, taking
inch after inch of me.
“How beautiful you look with my dick buried in your perfect ass,” I
whispered, starting even thrusts, each pulling out to the tip before ramming
into her again, my balls hitting her rear. “You were made for me.”
“I’m so close,” she whined. “Please, Skrain—”
I tutted, reaching around to her throat, choking her. Thank fuck it was
dark in the theater, or we’d really have caused a scene.
“Did you forget that this is a punishment?” I growled just as the bard on
stage began plucking his lute, humming the first notes of a ballad.
“You’re not going to come until you’ve earned it, Kerys. Tonight, you’re
my toy. Tonight, your body only exists to please me, and I will take whatever
I want from you as often as I want.” I shook her by the neck, and the Gods
damned pervert nearly climaxed, her ass pulsing.
The bard announced the title of the song, Nyxis’s most famous piece,
The Pale Daughter & The Tyrant Prince. Though I enjoyed it as much as the
rest of the audience, I tuned out. The first line, once there was a tyrant
prince, drowned in the wheezing of my wife and the soft slapping of our
skin.
“But now,” I said. “I’m going to fill your ass, just as I promised.”
It was a miracle I lasted as long as I did.
Finally, I allowed myself to let go.
A full-body twitch rumbled through me, my vision going white as my
dick swelled, and the torrent of my lust shot into her.
“Creators,” she cursed under her breath as I pulled out. “I almost
finished from you coming inside me.”
 “Oh, I know. I felt it.”
My cum began to ooze out of her stretched rear, and I tutted. Using two
fingers, I pushed my essence back inside her, and picked up the toy with the
other hand, sealing her ass with it. She flinched, disbelief crossing her
features.
I grinned, patting her butt cheek. “We don’t want to waste a drop, now
do we?”
Kerys stuttered while I pulled her upright, smoothing down her dress.
“You want me to walk around like this? With-with—” she stammered, a
delicious hint of embarrassment and panic in her eyes.
“With my cum in your ass, my darling wife,” I finished her sentence,
embracing her. “All night, you’re going to walk these famous halls, socialize
and speak to the Emperor with my seed inside you.”
“You’re terrible!” Kerys chewed on her lip, her expression shifting to
mischievous excitement. “But if I behave, you’ll let me finish later?”
I shrugged, casually clapping as the bard bowed and strutted offstage.
When the lights came back on, the first guests swarmed to the exits for the
intermission.
“Skrain,” Kerys urged, tugging on my arm. “Answer me.”
“We’ll see.” I smirked. “For now, I need you to focus. We have a plan to
put into motion and good impressions to make.”
Emily clicked her tongue, though her smile showed her obviously
unblemished mood. “How good that I didn’t get fucked into a quivering
mess … yet,” she quipped. “Next time you will have to book a box for me
alone, though, so I can enjoy the performances without you two going at it
like rabbits. What an inexcusable distraction from the arts.”
She laughed and strutted to the exit, pulling the curtain aside, gesturing
for us to follow. I guided Kerys by the arm, making sure she could walk. She
was unsteady, but her lips twisted upward while she fought for her
composure.
It was time for us to put on a show.
OceanofPDF.com
C
urrents of lightning prickled under my skin, my insides vibrating
from the denial of pleasure. As we walked out of the box and down
the hallway, my ass clenched tight around the plug. My leaking pussy
felt almost painfully empty.
I had a few choice words for my husband, ranging from curses to the
most pathetic pleas. The bastard was well-aware of his devastating effects
on me, a self-aggrandizing grin plastered on his face.
A mess was the correct term to describe my chaotic state, but I knew I
had to get it together.
“Is there uh—” I drifted off, running a hand down the back of my dress.
Why did it feel as if everyone could see what I was hiding beneath my skirt?
“Yes?” Emily asked, eyes sparking with glee as they flicked to my rear.
“Is there anywhere to freshen up quickly? I think I need some cold water
to calm down,” I said.
Skrain gestured to the right, toward a row of doors with a drop
engraved on golden plaques. “Right there. I could use a little wash myself. I
want to be clean for later.” When he winked at me, fire ignited in my core,
and I had to force myself to pull away before I got bold enough to suggest
another round in the bathroom.
“Once I’m done, I’ll meet you in the foyer?” I suggested.
“No. Down there is for the rabble.” Skrain shook his head.
My head cocked. “Didn’t you say our plan involved a garden?”
“Yes, but it’s reserved for special guests. You’ll see.” He smirked while
he strolled to one of the restrooms a few doors over. “When I’m done, Emily
and I will wait here and we’ll go together.”
 I didn’t respond. It felt as if I was going to explode if I stood still for
another second. My gown fluttered as I sprinted to the closest door, slipping
inside, and locked it behind me.
The mirror above the marble sink showed my pierced nipples as hard
peaks beneath my dress. My cheeks were a suspicious shade of bright pink,
as if I’d already had one too many drinks, my hair mussed up. Luckily I’d
picked up some enchanted, smudge-proof makeup from the market, and my
bold eyeliner and sultry copper eyeshadow were still immaculate.
As I stared at myself, I realized why I’d looked so different the past
weeks.
Though my memories were still incomplete, I felt like I had become the
person I was meant to be. Without a doubt, I’d never been more beautiful
than when I was myself … and when I loved Skrain.
The silken heat enveloping my heart, my pulse beating for him—they
were better and more impactful than any cosmetics, jewels or clothes could
ever be.
It was easy to be happy around him, to be myself. Unashamed.
“Well, well. You are looking especially lovely tonight, Keryssa. How is
our plan advancing?”
I stifled a flinch. How long had I been gawking at myself? But the
grating voice, the snarky inflection … it could’ve only been him.
My eyes searched the mirror in vain. The lust drained from my veins,
turning into sharp, adrenaline-fueled focus.
“I don’t speak to invisible demons, Aculeus.” I put my hands on my hips.
“Show yourself.”
A rattle of laughter filled the room as shadows converged in front of the
door, blocking it. He crossed his arms, tilting his head in anticipation of my
response.
I didn’t turn to him, didn’t answer. Instead, I glanced at a wicker basket
on a shelf by the sink, containing essentials for personal care. Tissues and
towels, a bottle of perfume, pieces of round, pink soap—and a wooden
comb. I picked up the comb and brushed my hair in slow strokes, resisting
the panic winding like a rope around my chest.
“How has my favorite whore been faring?” Aculeus asked. “Are you even
getting anything done besides spreading your legs?”
He was getting impatient.
I ignored his jab, putting the comb aside. Cool water spewed forth as I
turned the shiny silver tap and I dabbed some along my neck and on my
throat. I shuddered. The cold was calming, comforting, keeping me alert.
“I’m confident everything will go without a hitch.” I turned, looking
straight at him, my brows snapping up. “You need to stop doubting me, or
I’ll find another demon to work with. You’re not the only one who would
want this soulstone.”
I would have sworn, somewhere there in the swirling shadows, his eyes
narrowed in anger.
 “Watch your tone,” he hissed.
My grin widened. Violence—which wasn’t a viable option—or arrogance
were the two languages denizens of the Hells understood, and I laid it on
thick.
“Or what, Aculeus? You need me, and you know it.”
“For now, Kerys. For now.”
His form warped. A wave of nauseating magic rippled off him, and I
reached back, leaning against the sink to stop myself from dropping to the
floor. I heard the mirror behind me crack as his thorns grew longer and
longer. Reaching out, twisting.
If I moved an inch, if I so much as took a deep breath, the blackened
spikes would pierce my chest like thin parchment.
My voice wouldn’t come when I tried to speak.
“If you even think of tricking me, Kerys …” One thorn slithered along my
neck, scraping, not yet stinging. “I’ll show you an eternity of pain you
cannot comprehend. You’ll be begging for death before I finally devour your
anguished soul. Don’t you remember what happened to the nun?”
I pushed away vivid memories of his vines tearing apart the woman from
the inside, forcing down fears how close I was to a similar fate. With effort, I
pulled a grimace, as if I’d just bitten on a rancid seed, forcing words from
my throat and confidence into my tone.
“Ridiculous!” I spat. “I’m a whore. Not stupid. I won’t cross you. Why
would I be so open about everything if I meant to deceive you? And I’m only
close to Skrain because I have to be. Every time I have to endure that sleazy
asshole’s hands all over me, I imagine his face when he finds out I betrayed
him.”
The seconds slowed. My heart hammered like it meant to leave my
chest.
Finally, the demon backed off. His body shimmered like oil, wafting and
shifting, and without another word, he was gone.
The air whooshed from my lungs as I buckled, slumping to the floor.
Fuck. Close one.

As I stepped out of the restroom, I found Emily waiting alone—and Skrain

sprinting around the corner, immediately meeting my gaze. I’d taken a
moment to pull myself together, successfully chasing the jitters from my
step, a smile curling my lips. But my husband knew me well, and he knew
something had happened.
As he approached, the shift in his expression was minor. A twitch of a
brow, a downward tug on the corner of his mouth—unnoticeable for anyone
who wasn’t as intimately familiar with his moods as I was.
 Understanding flickered across his face. He must have put two and two
together, realizing there was only one being who could’ve reached me
inside the locked restroom.
Are you okay? his eyes seemed to say.
“I missed you,” I said, giggling brightly as I walked up to him. I rose on
my tiptoes, and he leaned down to offer his cheek for a kiss. “Aculeus paid
me a visit, but I’m fine,” I whispered. “I’ll tell you later at home.”
He nodded and wrapped an arm around my waist. “Fuck, I missed you,
too,” he said out loud. “Let’s get moving. Intermission will be over soon.”
“Where did you go while I was freshening up?” I asked, but instead of
receiving an answer from my husband, Emily gave a laugh.
“Skrain was finished much quicker than you, but as soon as he walked
out of the bathroom, a very persistent Dr. Mavix dragged him down to the
lobby to introduce him to his wife,” she explained. “You should have seen
him frowning and fretting like you might be in mortal danger on the toilet.
I’ve never witnessed Skrain this pathetically in love.”
That explained why Skrain hadn’t detected the demon—simply because
he wasn’t near me when it happened. Aculeus must have spied on us from
further away, waiting for a chance to catch me alone. Then again, it wasn’t
like my husband could’ve just torn down the door and caused a scene or
blown our cover, even if he sensed Aculeus with me.
Skrain bristled playfully while he steered me further down the hall. By
now, the other guests had cleared out, leaving us three alone on the upper
level.
“I’m not ashamed of my adoration for Kerys,” he said, puffing his chest
out.
Emily’s smile turned soft. “Nor should you be, it suits you. You make a
wonderful couple. Just don’t forget to invite me to the wedding.”
Skrain huffed. “I’ll do you one better. You’ll have to organize it.”
“How terrible! I would hate that!” Emily groaned sarcastically, but she
didn’t stop grinning.
I snickered. My mind occupied with visions of a red gown and white silk
shoes, Skrain’s bloodied handprint atop, we reached the steps leading to
the foyer.
The gentle notes of a violin quartet, a choir of chattering voices and the
clinking of glasses drifted from downstairs, but Skrain walked on. I followed
his gaze, my brows arching.
Where earlier was a plain wall by the side of the staircase, was now a
shimmering portal, flanked by two armed guards.
Skrain grinned, pressing a hand to the small of my back. “After you.”
I stepped into the cool wall of magic, Skrain and Emily following right
behind me.
OceanofPDF.com
“Holy—” My voice drifted off as my eyes wandered.
Dim orbs of light floated through the humid, warm air, laden with the
loamy scent of fertile soil.
Thick tree trunks, overgrown with plush moss and twisting vines,
supported majestic, emerald crowns. Twittering songbirds hopped from
branch to branch, pecking at the plump flesh of round, purple fruits.
Butterflies flitted from flower to flower, drinking from palm-sized blooms
with petals looking as soft as silk and as orange as the afternoon sun.
Skrain chuckled as another awe-filled sigh sneaked from my lips. He
hooked my arm under his and guided me onward on the stone path. If he
didn’t, I would’ve probably stood there admiring the view until the
intermission was over.
“This isn’t just a garden … it’s a forest, indoors?” I shook my head. “We
need one at home!”
Emily clapped. “Told you she’d want one as soon as we walked in here.
You owe me a bottle of white wine, Skrain. At least thirty years aged, thank
you.”
My husband inclined his head toward her. “A bet is a bet.”
“You bet on me?” I poked him in the ribs, laughing. “Incredible! How
rude!”
“Don’t worry, you’ll get your own enchanted forest. When we’re back
home, I’ll send a letter to the Emperor and ask for the architect who built
this one.” He favored me with a smirk. “The orangery is a relatively new
addition to the theater and reserved for the most esteemed guests, invited
by the royal family’s request. I’ve only visited it once before, but I heard
rumors that the Emperor likes bringing his mistresses up here on occasion,
which makes it the ideal location for our scheme.”
 Emily hummed, fingers brushing along a blue blossoming bush. “The
rooftop garden was actually a birthday gift for Empress Nadyra. Even most
nobles never get the chance to set foot in here.”
But nature wasn’t the only thing this building had to offer.
We strolled along until we reached a spacious, round clearing, and for
the first time, I saw what lay beyond the canopy. My breath halted. A domed
crystal roof with gilded beams held the night at bay, the sickle of the moon
glittering amid a sea of twinkling stars.
A tiered marble fountain was the centerpiece of the plaza, at its top the
statue of a sparsely clothed female Xar’vathi, pouring golden wine from a
gem-studded carafe. Guests paced around the fountain, holding shiny
goblets with tall stems, refilling them at their leisure. Small groups
gathered along buffet tables arranged around the edge of the square, plates
stacked high with delicacies.
My mouth watered. Atop silver platters laid meats, cheeses, and fish,
prepared in every imaginable way from grilled to steamed, sautéed, and
fricasseed. Vegetables, pickled and raw, had been cut into the shapes of
flowers, stars, suns, and moons. More than a dozen different kinds of
desserts tempted me, from puddings to sweets and pastries.
I didn’t know half the dishes presented, but my stomach rumbled. My
legs reacted before my brain, drawing me closer to a colorful selection of
candy.
Skrain followed and reached for a large bowl with faceted, blue gems
inside, approximately the size of a large walnut. He picked one up and held
it out to me. “Try this. It’s a traditional Xar’vathi treat, enjoyed by the upper
class.”
“This is edible?” I took it from him. “How do I—”
“Like this,” Emily cut in, snatching a gem from the bowl and putting it in
her mouth. A muffled crunch sounded from behind her closed lips. She
swayed with pleasure as she chewed and swallowed. “How delicious! These
are my favorite!”
Eagerly, I followed her example.
As I laid the smooth jewel onto my tongue, gentle sweetness teased my
tastebuds. I bit down, and with a satisfying crack, the sugar crust broke. My
eyes went wide as fizzy liquid flowed from its core, carrying the tart taste of
fresh blueberries and a hint of lemon. I swallowed and immediately reached
for another, when a deep, rumbling shout had my fingers freezing above the
bowl.
“Skrain Ra’shok!”
The three of us spun around.
Emperor Laxandral raised a hand in greeting as he approached, his wife
giving a soft smile, walking beside him. Emily curtsied, and I rushed to do
the same, demurely inclining my head.
A potent aura of magic radiated from the royal couple, but it was
difficult to discern whose was stronger or which kind of powers each of
them wielded. They must have used an advanced masking spell to disguise
their abilities, likely as to not give away any weak points to the public.
“Veryn Laxandral!” Skrain spread his arms, and the two men shared a
brief embrace, mostly consisting of back patting and shoulder clapping.
“It’s been a while since we have seen you in the capital,” Empress
Nadyra remarked as Skrain dipped into a bow and blew a polite kiss onto
her outstretched knuckles.
“Business and life have been good, but keeping me busy away from the
luster of Xalax’ar,” Skrain said diplomatically. “It’s nice to be back and in
such brilliant company. Thank you for your invitation, Veryn.”
Emperor Laxandral’s ocean-blue eyes crinkled as he huffed a laugh, a
firm hand landing on Skrain’s upper arm.
Even from up close, he was an objectively attractive man despite his
advanced age—which was quite some decades higher than apparent,
according to Emily’s explanation from a few nights ago. Like many of those
in positions of power in Xar’vath, he was known to extend his lifespan
through magical means.
“You’re always welcome here,” Emperor Laxandral said to Skrain, tail
swaying with mirth. “But I bet you’ve been gallivanting across the Dreaming
Sea, breaking hearts and seducing the most beautiful women in the realm.”
His gaze flicked to me, then to Emily, turning hungry as it drew along her
lace bodice. “Speaking of beautiful women, aren’t you going to introduce
us?”
Skrain grinned as he hitched me close, fingers curling around my waist.
“This is my wife, Keryssa.”
I smiled, curtsying once more. “A pleasure and a great honor to meet
you, Your Highness.”
“A wife!” the Emperor bellowed, brows jumping. “What a surprise. You
truly are a man of secrets. Already tight-lipped about the magic keeping you
this youthful, and now you even snuck off to get married!” He turned to
Empress Nadyra, chuckling. “Can you believe Xar’vath’s most notorious
bachelor has finally settled down?”
The Empress looked to me, ignoring her husband’s crude remarks.
“Congratulations,” she said, and I detected true kindness in her tone.
“Thank you,” I brought out, just in time before Emperor Laxandral cut
me off.
“And who is the radiant sun in red, blessing this dull night with the glory
of her divine beauty?” he asked.
Emily giggled, and the Empress’s smile twitched. The bangles on her
right wrist clinked as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, red eyes
dropping to her shoes.
“I’m Emily, Your Highness,” she said, stepping forward to stretch out
her hand toward Emperor Laxandral in a daring gesture usually reserved
for nobility. “What an honor it is to finally meet you in person, I—” She
paused, biting her lip. “Forgive my blabbering. I’ve heard so much about
you. When Skrain told me that you collect model ships, I just knew I had to
speak to you. I’ve never met another enthusiast!”
I stifled a full-body cringe as the Emperor smirked.
“Oh, you’re also a collector? What a wonderful coincidence,” he said,
locking eyes with Emily while he perched her hand on his. He brushed a
kiss onto her knuckles, holding her fingers just an uncomfortable second too
long. As if on command, Emily blushed a virginal maiden-pink, letting out
another bubbly laugh.
Creators, he was easy. Shameless. But frankly, Emily’s acting was
award-worthy.
Had she not made her disdain for him known in private earlier, I would
have bought her piece without an ounce of suspicion. The attraction
between them was a buzz in the air, impossible to miss like a slap to the
face, but the Empress turned to the food, busying herself with a golden-
brown pastry.
“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Emily,” the Emperor
drawled, eyes on her breasts, nipples pressing against the cloth. “What
brings you to the capital? Apart from a shared love for model ships, of
course.”
Emily gestured toward us. “Visiting my good friend Skrain to
congratulate him on his marriage. I really thought my stay here couldn’t get
much better than seeing the impressive sights of the city, but now—”
“Father, Mother,” a clipped, feminine voice interrupted.
The Empress looked up from her food, eyes sparkling. “Xynthia, there
you are! Finally! You missed the first half of the performances, and the
intermission is nearly over, too.”
The Princess was even taller than I imagined. Twisted horns with silver-
studded tips sprouted from dark hair, falling in a thick, neat braid down to
her waist.
She wore a few ornamental pieces of jewelry, their cool glint standing
out against her sun-tanned skin. Rings, a bracelet, and a layered chain
necklace fitting perfectly into the unbuttoned top of her sleek, black tunic, a
pair of well-tailored trousers, and polished boots to match.
Xynthia set a kiss on her mother’s cheek before turning to her father.
Her hand flicked to her belt as if searching for a blade, but she crossed her
arms, narrowing her sapphire eyes at the Emperor. He smiled, chest rising
with a suppressed sigh.
“Good to see you, Xynthia. We’ve missed your presence in the palace,”
he said, and looked to me, giving a sad smile. “Our nest is rather empty
without both of our beloved daughters.”
Quickly, I sifted through the information Skrain had given me about the
royal couple’s children.
Xynthia, their oldest, was already a decorated military officer and a
capable swordfighter. Their younger daughter, Lyv’ixa, was currently
occupied with learning the art of necromancy in a prestigious school across
the continent.
The Princess scoffed, grimacing. “I prefer any dirty military camp over
this.” She gestured at Emily, shaking her head. “Your behavior is
embarrassing, father. Unbecoming.”
Emperor Laxandral straightened, brow furrowing. “That’s enough now.
We have guests, and I will not have my daughter tell me what is
appropriate! I’m still the ruler of these lands and—”
Skrain raised a hand, clearing his throat. “It was wonderful to see you
all again, but I think it’s time we returned to our seats. Empress Nadyra
was quite right, the second half of the festival is about to begin.”
Xynthia’s mouth snapped shut as she, too, turned to the buffet, hand
shooting out to rip grapes off a vine.
Emperor Laxandral gave an awkward nod, shoulders rolling. “We’ll
speak again soon, Skrain.” He turned to me, chin dipping ever so slightly.
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Keryssa.” Finally, he looked to Emily. “I
apologize for the interruption. We shall meet again, too. Very soon.”
Ignoring the growl of disapproval from the Princess, Emily let out a bell-
chiming giggle. “Nothing would give me greater pleasure, Your Highness.”
So far, our plan had been a gut-churning success. Now it remained to be
seen if Emperor Laxandral had the audacity to follow Emily’s lure to the
grand prize.
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T
he portly male on stage cleared his throat, slicking back his sweat-
damp hair between chunky, short horns. His tunic was soaked, too,
white fabric sticking to his body, accentuating the arrhythmic heaving
of his chest.
Sobs rang from the audience as he launched into yet another yammering
stanza of somber poetry about some tragic war hero or another, sacrificing
themselves for the good of Xar’vath.
While I hadn’t paid full attention to the first half of the performances, I
enjoyed them. But this? I cringed. Would this ever end?
The announcer had dated this supposed masterwork back to the early
days of the empire, written by one of the greatest philosophical minds and
poets the Xar’vathi ever brought forth. I’d forgotten the author’s long,
complicated name, and to me, the hungry yowling of stray cats would have
been more pleasant.
Skrain didn’t seem all too touched either. His antsy hands crept under
my skirt, rubbing along my thighs, setting fire to my blood.
I moaned, praying to any Gods who would listen that he’d finally put his
fingers where I needed them most. “Fuck,” I breathed.
Emily let out a quiet laugh. “I think I will get to do just that,” she said,
eyes fixed on the box across.
Emperor Laxandral whispered to his wife, who gave a reluctant nod.
Xynthia sat on her mother’s other side, her gaze snapping from the stage to
her father as he got up, her fingers digging into the upholstered armrest.
She frowned, her lips moving, but the Emperor didn’t pay her any mind and
exited.
Almost simultaneously, a low, male voice drifted from behind the curtain
to our own box.
 “Miss Emily, your presence is expected in the rooftop garden.”
That was all he said, all he needed to. Expected, not requested—the
implication was clear.
Emily rose with a flourish of red silk and a flick of golden hair, sashaying
to the exit. “Have fun, you two!” she said before slipping out into the
hallway.
Skrain grinned, his tail slinking between my thighs, grazing my sex. My
pussy ached. It felt like he’d teased me for hours, which was pretty accurate
at this point.
“What do you say …” He nibbled along the shell of my ear, and I melted
into his embrace as he tugged me onto his lap. “How about we make good
use of our time while Emily does her job, huh? Does my darling wife finally
deserve an orgasm? Was she an obedient girl for her master tonight?”
The crowd broke into applause while the curtains closed. Skrain’s hard
cock rubbed against my rear, shifting the plug in my ass, and light flickered
in front of my eyes as I tried to find some focus in my lust-addled brain.
The announcer stepped onto the stage, silencing the guests as he raised
his arms high. “And as the last act for tonight, we present to you, the
famous palace choir … the Voices of the Empire’s Glory!”
“Please, Skrain,” I rasped against the background noise of cheers.
“Please let me come. I’ll do anything.”
“Anything?” He shifted, pulling up my skirt in the back, and twisted the
plug. I jerked, my clit throbbing as if struck by thunder. “Then admit that
you’re my whore, my toy, my perverted little wife who likes to get fucked in
both holes in front of the entire Xar’vathi court.”
A whimper escaped me. “I-I’ll be whatever you want me to be, Skrain.
Your whore, your toy, your fuckhole. Just please, fill me. I need to feel you
now, I-I think I’m going crazy!”
“You sound so sweet when you beg for my dick,” he said and lifted my
rear with one arm, his other hand untying the front of his trousers.
“But don’t go home just yet after the curtain falls,” the announcer
continued. “Please join us for a fitting end to this joyful night and assemble
in the theater square to watch the fireworks.”
The crowd roared, and that same instant, Skrain yanked me downward.
I yelped as his iron length parted my flesh, slamming inside me from tip to
hilt—all at once.
I didn’t need to wait until later for fireworks.
Euphoria exploded inside my belly, spreading tingles through my blood.
Every inch of my body trembled as I rode the high he denied me for so long.
I stammered, my hand flying to my mouth as my eyes watered.
“You’re like a bitch in heat, coming just from me putting it in,” Skrain
hissed. “I haven’t even started fucking you yet, but you’re so damn needy
for my cock, you can’t even keep it together. You can’t even speak. Listen to
yourself sputter and moan.”
 He grabbed me around the waist, taking up hard, short thrusts that had
me bouncing on his lap. A smooth vine sprung from each of his palms,
snaking crisscross up my chest, encircling me. They wound tight around the
base of my breasts, perking them up through my dress. The living ropes
squeezed until it hurt, and my pussy convulsed.
A crescendo of reverent, angelic voices filled my buzzing ears as the
choir on stage sang the praises of the Emperor and the High Priest,
honoring the Gods and the desert.
“I’ll never tire of hurting you, Kerys,” Skrain groaned. “It’s your own
fault, you’re just so fucking beautiful when you suffer.”
The vines grew. My breasts still in their unrelenting grip, they slithered
higher. They wrapped around my throat, choking me, and I gasped for air.
“We don’t have much time, my darling wife. How many times can I make
you come before the singing stops?”
Skrain angled his thrusts deeper, forward, and my body answered his
question.
With the plug in my ass and his dick stretching my cunt, I felt so full, I
couldn’t hold on. I unraveled again, my pulse raging in my ears, my pussy
like a vise around Skrain’s cock. Dizziness overwhelmed me, and I panted
through that hurricane of an orgasm, white-knuckling the railing.
“That’s two, Kerys,” he brought out, my name more primal growl than
speech. “This is amazing … with every thrust, I feel the toy in your ass,
sliding against me through your thin inner walls. Makes you even tighter
than usual, damn—”
His voice cut off as he twitched inside me. I knew he was having a hard
time holding back, but he was restraining himself for me, for the sake of my
pleasure.
“One more,” he moaned. “Give me …” Thrust. “One.” Thrust. “More.”
His right hand slipped from my waist to my groin. He found my clit hood
piercing, applying pressure, massaging. The snaps of his hips didn’t let up,
pushing my lust higher. Higher.
Black pressed into my vision as climax number three whirled through
me. For a moment, I forgot where we were, who I was, the ecstasy
becoming all-encompassing. All-overwhelming.
Skrain didn’t last a second longer than he had to.
His hot release filled me, but he didn’t stop fucking me, didn’t stop
rutting into me until his essence was leaking out of me.
He slumped back on the sofa, dragging me with him. The vines
retreated, letting me breathe, and we sat together—both a mess now.
The finishing notes of the choir echoed in the hall before applause filled
the space a final time. Skrain put a kiss on the side of my neck, brushing a
strand of damp hair from my forehead.
“They’ll give an encore, as they do each year,” he said, contentment and
exhaustion lacing his tone. “But we should go. I think we can both use a trip
to the washroom before we meet up with Emily and hopefully seal the deal.”
 I nodded, too dazed to speak, and he pulled me to my feet. Hand in
hand, giggling like drunk youths, we snuck into the hallway.

We used the same bathroom this time, helping to make each other look
presentable. It took a little pleading until Skrain removed the plug from my
ass and put it in his pocket, allowing me to better concentrate on the task
ahead. I wouldn’t have admitted it, but I missed the sensation almost
immediately.
As we exited, the hallways filled with guests streaming outside to watch
the fireworks. We were looking for the Empress, trying to make it seem like
we’d run into her by accident, when two guards parted the crowds, her
Highness Nadyra in tow. She came up to us, wringing her hands, and her
eyes found mine.
“Have you seen my husband or my daughter?” she asked quietly, lip
quivering.
I shook my head. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. We were on our way
downstairs for the fireworks.”
Her brow furrowed. “Veryn was called away to receive an urgent
message from the High Priest, and Xynthia left a few minutes ago. She
stormed out of the box just before the curtain closed.” She paused,
searching gaze flicking along the merry crowd.
I stretched out a hand, and the Empress startled as I laid it on her
shoulder. “I’m sure they’re fine. Why don’t we enjoy the fireworks together
in the dome, away from the crowds?” I suggested with a smile. “Perhaps
they had the same idea and they’re already waiting for you up there.”
The Empress gave a series of hectic nods. “Yes. Yes, you’re right. I’m
probably worrying about nothing again.” Sighing, she signaled the two
soldiers, and as a group, we made for the guarded portal.
I swallowed hard, concealing my discomfort as we led her right into the
trap we’d set. But we hadn’t accounted for one unexpected rogue agent
disrupting our scheme.

Birds startled from the trees as a shrill shriek pierced my ears. The thicket
rustled, and Empress Nadyra blanched, her guards stepping in front of her,
polished swords raised to protect her. Skrain did the same, albeit unarmed,
pulling me close, behind him.
“Let go, you crazy bitch!” someone yelled.
Not someone.
Emily.
 My heart dropped into my belly.
With a dramatic screech, in a ball of red silk and blonde tresses with
twigs and leaves stuck in them, Emily tumbled from the underbrush.
Holding on to the torn front of her dress, she scrambled to her feet, one
heel broken. Her bold makeup was smeared, tears running down her face.
She was not only a good actress, but also brilliant at improvising.
“Skrain, Kerys,” she pleaded, looking to us. “You have to believe me,
I—”
The bushes parted and the Princess shot forward, grabbing Emily by the
hair, cutting her off.
“I should have you executed!” Xynthia shouted. “And worse, you’re a
Gods damned Human!”
Emperor Laxandral stumbled from the trees, fiddling with the front of
his trousers, cheeks a bright red—almost as red as the lipstick prints all
over his mouth and throat.
That sight was what it took for the Empress to finally snap.
“Veryn, how could you do this to me!” Empress Nadyra sobbed. Her
flustered guards made way as she stepped forward to speak to her husband,
pressing both hands to her face. “And in front of our guests!”
“M-my dear, it’s not what it looks like I—” he stammered like a walking
cliché, but the Princess’s furious yell interrupted him.
She jumped toward the closest of her mother’s guards, taking him by
surprise. Her fist landed square in his face. Bone cracked, while her other
hand grabbed the stunned man’s sword, wrestling the hilt from his grip.
She pointed the blade at her father, the tip sitting right beneath his
chin. The metal drew a single drop of crimson, trickling down his neck. “For
as long as I can remember, you’ve humiliated Mother with your escapades.
But this, this is enough! I was a fucking idiot to blame the women you’ve
taken to your bed when I should have cut the root of the problem.”
Emperor Laxandral’s throat bobbed, eyes wide as he raised his hands in
defeat. “You’re r-right. I should have—”
“It’s too late now, you disgusting cheater,” Xynthia gritted out through
clenched teeth.
The Empress gasped, unstoppable rivers of tears flowing across her
cheeks as she stretched a trembling arm toward her daughter. “Xynthia,
please, don’t—”
“No!” The Princess avoided her, slapping her fingers away. “I’ve
watched this my entire life, and I won’t stand by another day! If you won’t
do anything about it, I will!”
The second guard threw helpless glances at his liege, but the Emperor
and his wife ignored him. Skrain’s gaze found mine, and in an instant, I
knew he was thinking the same thing I did.
We had planned a broken heart, for the Empress to walk in on her
husband and Emily—not the overthrowing of the Xar’vathi throne.
 Skrain coughed pointedly, and Xynthia looked to him for the span of a
heartbeat, but it was long enough.
Empress Nadyra’s hand shot out, reaching for the sword, and
reflexively, the Princess twirled, swinging the blade.
A cry echoed through the silence. The clattering of metal hitting the
ground.
My pulse hitched as Empress Nadyra dropped to her knees, clutching
her wrist.
Blood poured from a gash on her forearm, painting the beige stone tiles
bright crimson. Skrain reached into his back pocket, taking out a fresh linen
tissue, and the breath rushed from my lungs as he gave it to me.
We had planned a subtler method of drawing the Empress’s blood. The
idea was to enter the garden, then hear suspicious noises and investigate.
Together, we were meant to creep through the underbrush and discover the
Emperor with Emily.
A few weeping scratches on the Empress’s arms from Skrain’s thorns—
unpoisoned, of course—would have been easily disguised, explained by the
thick vegetation, but this method worked, too.
Everyone froze, watching me crouch down next to the Empress, dabbing
at the wound. I soaked the thin fabric with red until it weighed heavy on my
palm and stood, gesturing at the paralyzed guards.
“The Empress needs help, can’t you see? Get Dr. Mavix!” I exclaimed.
My order startled everyone into action. Panic broke out.
The guards hurried to the exit, while the Princess fell to the floor beside
her mother, sobbing her apologies. With a wry smile, Emperor Laxandral
bowed down to his wife, brushing in gentle strokes over her back.
“We should give them some privacy,” Skrain said, a far too believable
mask of concern drawing his brows and lips downward.
I nodded, enveloping the sanguine tissue in my closed fist, the blood
sticky and warm against my skin.
Emily hobbled with us, clicking her tongue as she tugged at her ruined
dress. “Nobody said I’d be assaulted tonight.”
“You’ve had worse,” Skrain whispered with a wink.
I looked over my shoulder at the royal family, their silhouettes fading as
I passed through the portal. The muffled explosions of fireworks drifted
through the deserted theater hallway.
Who knew what would become of those three broken hearts up in the
roof garden.
In public, their spotless images would remain. A strong nation needed a
strong royal family. And in private … maybe this was the catalyst they
needed to finally start a conversation, to heal old wounds.
Who could say if Emperor Laxandral would change his ways? If Empress
Nadyra wanted to forgive him for decades of infidelity? Or if Xynthia could
ever respect her father again?
At least, I wished for peace for them.
 Skrain smiled at me as he took my hand, and my mood lightened a little.
None of that was for us to judge or worry about. We had gotten exactly
what we needed.
One step closer to freedom.
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I
lifted my legs, boots landing on the table with a thud. The empty bottles
atop clinked and one tipped over, rolling past a nearly burned-out oil
lantern, a stack of old tomes, and an ashtray full of cigarette butts, right
off the edge.
The crash rang like an explosion, disturbing the quiet blanket of night
enveloping the garden.
I lounged in my chair and raised my goblet to the stars. Being Xar’vathi,
I already needed far more alcohol to get drunk than Elves or Humans. And
combined with the resilience of the demonic taint in my blood, I was just
starting to feel a comfortable buzz.
As I knocked back my drink and sweet wine flowed over my tongue, I
glanced along the darkened mansion, the windows like black mirrors—
except for a shimmer of light on the top floor.
Kerys’s study.
When I had our house rebuilt here, I recreated the room as best I could
from memory. The royal blue, floral wallpaper and stained wooden floors.
The towering bookshelves with a sliding ladder, the massive research desk,
and an alchemy station with supplies for enchanting. I even found a mage to
secure the chamber with special bell wards, so any intruder—even demons
—would be greeted by an alarm.
A smile curled my lips. I’d almost given up hope of ever seeing the dusty
sheets lifted from the furniture, to ever see life breathed into the
mausoleum of her talents.
The servants had long turned in, but I didn’t want to go to bed without
Kerys. Actually, I physically couldn’t bring myself to try. Upstairs on my
own, the sight of the empty bed made my heart glaze with frost.
How had I survived so many decades of loneliness?
 Dim light flickered in the foyer, approaching. My pulse hurtled into a
ridiculously cheerful rhythm as a slender form appeared in the doorway,
and I sat up straight, my feet meeting solid ground.
My wife stepped from the shadows into the moonlight, bare soles
soundless on the mosaic tiles. Clutching a candleholder in her left hand, she
hid the other behind her back. She smiled as our eyes met, a flush of pink
tinting her cheeks.
“I saw your note on the bed,” she said, tiptoeing around the shattered
bottle to set the candle onto the table. “If I had known you were up waiting
for me, I would have quit earlier.”
“Would you love me any less if I told you that I just can’t stand being
without you, not even for a second? When I’m not near you, it feels like my
chest is being crushed. Your absence is deadly poison to me, Kerys.”
Her giggle filled my gut with warm tingles. So long as I could hear her
laugh, I’d give up the sweetest compositions, never listen to another song
again.
“No, actually I’d love you more,” she said. “And by the way, you could
have asked to stay in the study with me.”
I shook my head. “You used to hate that, so I didn’t want to impose.”
Her breath came in a long exhale, her tongue playing along the corner
of her mouth. “I fear I might not ever recall all my memories, and a part of
me grieves for that life we lived—and lost. For the happy memories, even
for the sad ones. And while most of me might be the same, some things are
different. I have changed a little, and this new Kerys would love to have you
around her, always. Even in her study when she’s working.”
She paused, jaw clenching, eyes darting.
“Does that make you love me less?” she asked. “That I’m not entirely the
same as I was? That maybe, we might find out more things that have
changed about me?”
My tail lashed out. It snapped around her wrist like a whip, and with a
sharp tug, I pulled her off balance, toward me. She stumbled, a yelp echoing
through the garden as she landed on my lap. I slammed my empty goblet
onto the table and grabbed her face with both hands. Her gaze widened as I
covered her mouth with mine, my tongue sliding between her lips.
Her right hand still clutched into a fist, the other found my horn,
tugging, anchoring herself.
She tasted sweet, of the milky tea I brought her before I attempted to go
to bed alone. I stifled a snicker. She probably got so immersed in her work,
she forgot and drank it cold again, all at once, only a few minutes ago.
“Yes, I know you’re different,” I whispered. “You’re different and you’re
the same, and with every passing day, I love you more and more.”
I swallowed her sigh and kissed her again. When I pulled away, we were
both out of breath, her breasts heaving beneath the blue silk of her dress. I
didn’t let go of her face, forcing her to keep looking at me.
 My thumbs caressed along the velvet skin of her cheeks, brushing away
a lone tear. “You are my wife, Kerys, and you always will be. You were my
wife from the moment I first laid eyes on you, even when you still belonged
to another. I love you as you were then, and I love you as you are now. Even
if you looked nothing like the woman I knew a century ago, I would love you
the same. Come what may, I will love any version of you that will ever be.
“Your past and your future are a part of you, and you are a part of me,
as much as the heart pumping my blood or the lungs drawing my breath.
Without you, there is no me. If you’re not by my side, my existence is empty,
hollow nothingness where my soul should be.”
Kerys sniffled, lips pinched as her free hand wiped at her eyes. Her brow
furrowed, but yet she smiled. “You make the heroes from those romance
novels I like to read sound like amateurs.” She sobbed a giggle. “Still calling
me your wife though it was so long ago, and death tore us apart.”
I scoffed, tapping the tip of her nose. “Nobody takes my wife from me.
Not death, not a demon, not anyone else. They can try, but I’ll always find
you again. Our bond can’t be broken, my priceless treasure.”
“If you still consider me your wife, does that mean I won’t get a second
wedding?” she asked impishly, pouting.
“Fuck, of course you’ll get another wedding!” I threw my arms into the
air, smirking. “Another ten if you want! A hundred! Whatever makes you
happy.”
Kerys’s gaze fell to her fist in her lap, and her expression soured
slightly.
“Did you run into trouble?” I asked, tenderly grasping her chin.
“No. Not at all.”
Her fingers unfurled, revealing a light purple, walnut-sized gem with
cracks running through its translucent center, veins of muddy red marbling
the stone.
“I’m a little tired from channeling my magic, but everything went
without a hitch.” She turned the jewel in her hand. “According to my
memory of the instructions, I brewed separate solutions from the tongue
and the extracted blood. Then I dropped the crystal inside each pot, letting
the liquid stew until it had all been absorbed. I was worried when the
cracks appeared, but the gem’s structural integrity seems unchanged.”
“Well done, Kerys.” I kissed her cheek. “But without the last ingredient
all your efforts are wasted.” My shoulders fell. “There won’t be a wedding.
There won’t be a life together, there won’t be—” I stopped myself, snapping
my lips shut.
“I take it you had no luck with your research then?” she asked softly,
glancing at the messy stack of books on the table.
I expected disappointment in her tone or even frustration, but her voice
was filled with understanding and affection, even as she realized my failure.
My tail released her wrist, slashing through the air. “I mean, an
innocent man’s earnest guilt? What is that supposed to mean? I’ve been
racking my brain over this ever since you told me, and I still wouldn’t know
where to start looking. How can an innocent man be genuinely guilty?”
I groaned, angry at myself for being helpless once more.
One hurdle. A single damn hurdle stood between us and our goal. A
single piece missing to complete the puzzle, and I couldn’t fucking figure it
out.
Silence came over us. We sat with each other, our breaths mingling and
our pulses beating together. I closed my eyes, focusing on her scent, on her
weight on my lap, when Kerys gasped.
“Skrain,” she breathed. “Skrain, look.”
Adrenaline flooded my blood and my eyes flung open, anticipating a
threat, but my wife was smiling, pointing above.
“Look,” she repeated.
I raised my gaze to the sky, and joy swelled in my chest.
Like flowing water, a band of light wove between the stars. Its pale
silver shimmer turned into spirals of red fire coiling in the heavens,
morphing into an ocean of glimmering blue and luminescent emerald. As if
the night sky became the Gods’ canvas, the colors shifted again and again,
painting the darkness, each stroke of their brush a symphony of beauty as
fleeting as our mortal fates.
“Lumyn’quab verixas,” I whispered.
“True hearts’ light,” Kerys answered. She blinked as if shocked by her
knowledge. “I recall. When lovers meet beneath the lumyn’quab verixas,
they must speak their hearts’ hidden truth, confess their feelings, or their
love will be forever doomed.”
My throat thickened as I nodded.
“The last time—” she started again, voice drifting off as she chewed on
her cheek. Lost in deep thought, her breath stalled, until her wide eyes
fixed on mine. “The last time we watched the lumyn’quab verixas together,
you …” Her head tilted. “You proposed?” Her tone rose a few pitches at the
end of the sentence, as if she couldn’t quite believe what she’d said.
My chin dipped in confirmation. I couldn’t speak. My tongue was an
immovable stone in my dry mouth, no shallow gulp of air enough to force a
sound.
She remembered.
So did I.
I remembered the moment on the way back from a visit to the theater,
when I sank to one knee in the middle of a street in Xalax’ar. I felt the
phantom touch of velvet against my fingertips as I pulled out that little
black box, inside it the ring I had been hiding for months. It was the first
purchase I made with our new money, right after we took over the mines.
I had the stones cut into her favorite shapes. A square sapphire in the
middle, framed by sparkling, round diamonds.
I remembered the joy in her eyes as I opened the case. How she blurted
out yes before I’d even asked the damn question.
 My lips parted as I clutched my neck. Sweat beaded on my forehead,
trickling down my face.
I was drowning from the inside out.
The smile slipped off her face as she laid a hand on my cheek. “What’s
wrong?”
“I … can’t … breathe …” I choked out.
“Shhh, I’m here. You’re fine. We’re fine,” she whispered. “Breathe with
me. Slowly. In … and out.”
I had promised myself to put this behind me, this whirlwind of
tormenting emotions. Grief. Defeat. Embarrassment. Disgust. But I still
hated myself, still couldn’t stop thinking how this was all my fault.
My face contorted, containing the sob welling in my throat. “We
wouldn’t be in this situation if I didn’t fucking fail you,” I hissed through
gritted teeth. “If I hadn’t gone away and left you to die!”
Kerys offered a soft, comforting smile. “Please, Skrain, I told you I’m not
mad. From the moment I knew my true memories, I never blamed you for
my death, not for one second. None of what—”
“After you died, I tried to be mad at you, just because I couldn’t bear
being sad anymore,” I interrupted. Now that I’d started rambling, I couldn’t
stop clumsy, desperate words from leaving my lips. “I wished I could’ve put
the blame on you. I screamed into the desert, asking how you’d dare to
leave me alone.” Blinking back tears, I shook my head. “But I fucking
couldn’t. No. What happened to you was my fault.”
Kerys didn’t flinch at my outburst. Her eyes stayed gentle, her caress
along my cheek steady.
“What can I do to take this burden from you, my beloved husband?” she
whispered. “It’s not yours to carry, and I hate to see you suffer so.”
“Me? Suffering?” I barked a sarcastic laugh. “What about your suffering,
Keryssa? We should have lived and died together. And I would have found
you in the next life, just as I promised during our vows!”
She heaved a sigh. “But we get a second chance, Skrain! Let’s not waste
it. Together, we’ll figure out how to finish the stone.”
“If I would’ve done the right damn thing and stayed with you on that
cursed night, we wouldn’t need this stupid jewel,” I growled as I reached for
her hand holding the gem, bringing it up between us. It reflected the
changing lights above, strewing tiny rainbows across her face.
She was beautiful. So fucking beautiful it hurt, my chest tearing into
pieces just from looking at her.
She shook her head. “You did the right thing. No one could have
foreseen what would happen. You tried to make some coin for us, provide
for us,” she responded calmly, but I saw the tremble in her chin, and my
heart turned to lead.
“P-please don’t cry. I don’t deserve your tears. I never … never deserved
you, Kerys, I—” My voice faded.
 “I’m not crying because I’m angry or because I feel like you hurt me,
Skrain. You didn’t hurt me,” she whispered. “I’m crying because I love you,
and I feel your anguish as if it is my own. Above all, I want you to be happy.
I want you to forgive yourself.”
I couldn’t keep it together anymore.
“You’re too good for me.” I sobbed, pressure burning behind my eyes.
My hand found the nape of her neck, tugging her close, leaning my forehead
against hers. “You’re too gorgeous. Too kind. Too smart. Too funny. Too
witty. And I let you die. How could I let you die?”
My tears spilled over. They streamed down my face, a raging, untamable
torrent of grief and regret.
All I could gasp was her name, all I could feel was the heat of her body,
her breath on my lips.
A soft, lavender glow rose between us, and Kerys stiffened. She pulled
away, just an inch. I was about to yank her back, adrift without her touch,
but her mouth curved up.
“An innocent man’s earnest guilt,” she brought out, tone weak with
disbelief. “You found it, Skrain.”
I blinked, a veil of sadness blurring my vision. Teeth gritted, I took a
deep breath, just to have it knocked right out of me again when I followed
her gaze downward.
The light. It came from the jewel, shining wet—with my tears.
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My hands shook. This wasn’t how the spell was supposed to go.
I glanced at Skrain. His expression was frozen somewhere between
shock and joyful skepticism, the ghost of a smile making his lips twitch as
he stared at the gem.
Improvisation wasn’t a wise course of action when it came to
enchantments, but I had no time for distilling or careful preparation. A
genuine, heartfelt emotion like this couldn’t be reproduced on command,
and since the stone had already reacted to his tears, I had to try—my
exhaustion be damned.
I rolled my shoulders as I called upon the warm flow of my magic and
recited the incantation.
By shadows’ void, where darkness reigns,
A stone to bind in blood and chains.
Through silence, deceit, regret its power swells,
To imprison monsters from the Hells.
The jewel pulsed with light, the tingle of power flowing from my
fingertips into its center. My voice strained, growing thin while I poured all
of my energy into channeling. Even for an experienced caster such as
myself, this spell was a challenge, and I’d already exerted myself applying
the other two ingredients.
With each word, the stone glowed brighter. Skrain didn’t dare to move,
breaths shallow, watching me work in silence.
As the last syllable left my lips in a sigh, Skrain’s tears had been
absorbed.
“Is it done?” he whispered.
 I nodded, almost stunned as I placed the jewel on the table. My hands
were a little numb, and I rubbed them together. “Yes. Yes it’s done—I
think.”
For a few moments we stared at each other, then Skrain hollered.
Cradling me in his arms, he jumped up.
“You did it!” He kissed my forehead. “My wife is a genius!”
I laughed, relief and elation flooding my thoughts while Skrain danced
over the terrace, spinning, holding me tight.
He paused and gave me a stern nod. “I think you deserve a reward,” he
said decisively.
My mood dimmed. “But we haven’t figured out how to weaken Aculeus
before we—”
“Shut up, Keryssa.” He kissed me again, on the lips this time to
showcase his serious intentions of shutting me up. It worked. “If I say my
darling wife deserves a reward, she gets a fucking reward. Besides, I didn’t
drink the entire night away. I had a conversation with Emily earlier, and she
said she has a few tricks up her sleeve. She wants to talk her plan through
tomorrow morning.”
“But—”
“No more buts right now,” he interrupted. “You need some good old rest
and relaxation, and I have something special in mind, something I’ve always
wanted to try. All you have to do is let me do my thing and enjoy, yes?”
I swallowed another complaint. Skrain was right, I was tired and my
thoughts sluggish. “Fine,” I sighed. “Show me your special something.”
His hands shifted my body, twisting me so we were chest to chest,
guiding my legs to wrap around his hips and my arms around his neck.
“Hold on for a second,” he said and when I did, he let go.
He fetched the stone from the table and put it safely in his pocket before
carrying me toward the house. Stopping abruptly, he craned his neck to
look up. Smooth, thick vines shot from his outstretched palms, and I looked
over my shoulder, watching them surge high, all the way to the balcony of
our bedroom above.
They twined through the ornate railing, twisting into one thick rope as
they met on their way down to us. At the bottom, they split again in a y-
shape. More smaller vines branched off from the ends. A few wove into
something resembling a seat, slimmer growths forming a backrest, and two
loops resembling stirrups.
Then, for the first time, I witnessed Skrain’s vines disconnecting from
his body. They withered at the base of his palms before the stumps
retreated beneath his skin.
“Doesn’t this hurt you?”
He laughed. “Only a little. Once separated from me, the vines wilt soon,
but I can control them until then. Growing them back expends a little more
of my magic, but I’ll deal with that later. Sleep will help, and this occasion is
worth it.”
 Fiery excitement coiled in my belly. “So what the Hells is this
contraption for?”
“You’ll see in just a moment.” Skrain grabbed my ass. “I know you’ll love
it.”
With a half-convinced hum, I released him. He lifted me, and I bounced
softly as he sat me down on the braided vines.
“Lean back,” he instructed.
I relaxed, getting comfortable. It was like sitting on a cozy, elastic
swing, and I giggled at the weightless feeling tempting me to kick my legs.
“Like this?” I asked.
“Perfect,” he purred.
Something slithered along my wrists, and my pulse hopped. While short
vines tied my wrists, pulling my arms taut above my head, Skrain’s hands
wandered over my clothed breasts, teasing at the piercings decorating my
nipples. His caress drew over my thighs and calves to my bare feet.
He took the right one between his palms, set a slow kiss atop it, and slid
it into one of the loops. The vine fastened around my ankle while he gave
my other foot the same treatment.
An ache built in my core and the first dew of arousal slickened my folds
as I realized the position I was in.
I hung suspended, bound and immobilized. And Creators, absolutely
nothing got me hotter than being at my cruel husband’s mercy.
“Now comes the part I have dreamed of, my priceless treasure,” he said,
eyes flaring with an expression I knew and loved.
Desire.
The vines around my ankles tugged upward and to the sides, spreading
my legs. My skirt slid up and bunched around my stomach, exposing my
damp panties.
Skrain’s gaze dropped to my sex as he licked his lips. “Would you look at
that …” He tutted. “Does being tied up in my vines get you this wet, my
little slut?”
By now, after the weeks we’d spent together, falling into our dynamic
was both relief and exhilaration. It was as familiar and comforting as the
moon’s soft glow, and yet as thrilling as diving headfirst into turbulent, dark
waters.
“Yes, master,” I admitted, cheeks heating. “Knowing you could do
anything to me and I’m helpless to resist … it’s my favorite fantasy.”
He smirked, stepping between my legs. “And I love seeing you like this,
Kerys. My wife, my prey, bound and ready for me to fuck.”
I was at the ideal height for him to take me, my groin lined up with the
erection bulging in his trousers.
His hands found my waist again, rocking me slowly back and forth.
Fingers hooking into the waistband of my thin panties, he tore them off in
one, swift yank, baring my pussy to the cool night air.
 A grin playing on his face, he teased along my mound. He flicked the
piercing above my clit, and I moaned loud enough for the neighbors to hear
—if we had any. But we did have servants … My thoughts drifted to their
quarters on the ground floor, and my eyes snapped to the blackened
windows.
“Oh, Kerys, Kerys. What am I going to do with you? I know how much
you love being watched while I fuck you,” Skrain said, thumb circling the
throbbing nub of nerves crowning my slit. “Are you hoping the servants are
looking at us right now?”
I bit my lip. “Y-yes.”
“Oh, they are looking. Nobody could sleep while you’re moaning like
this.” He nodded at the house.
I squinted. My eyes took a few seconds to adjust, but soon, I made out
figures moving in the dark, squeezing into the window frames. My cunt
clenched, weeping. I couldn’t see their faces, but it was enough to know
they were there.
“Because you’ve worked so hard, and you’ve been so obedient, I won’t
make you wait tonight,” Skrain said, unlacing his trousers. “I promised a
reward, and a reward you’ll get.”
His cock burst free, the piercings at the head gleaming with drops of
lust. He stroked himself, letting me get a mouth-watering look at his
impressive size before guiding his length between my legs.
The tip nudged my entrance, and I groaned as he pressed slowly into
me. His upward thrusts were hard and steady, and the stars above blurred
in front of my eyes.
Fuck. How could a simple change in position be this damn good?
Suspended, the pull of the ground was a faraway memory, letting me fly
high on pleasure.
Every time he drove into me, the elastic vines made me sway. The angle
of his dick inside me sent shudders along my body, each and every roll of
his hips perfectly hitting that forward pleasure spot along my inner walls.
“Tonight, you can come as many times as you like, whenever you like,”
Skrain groaned, keeping up that maddeningly even, deep rhythm. “But I’m
going to fuck you for as long as I want. You’re only getting out of this swing
when you’re drenched in my cum, understood?”
I made a whimpering noise somewhat close to the word yes, and with
my husband in such a generous mood, that answer was enough for him.
“Good little wife. No more talk. Now I want to hear you scream for your
adoring audience,” he said, pulling out before he slammed into me.
And I did just what he asked. I screamed.
I screamed my euphoria to the moon above, moaning his name while he
impaled me with punishing thrusts.
One of his hands found my breasts, massaging them in turns, tweaking
my nipples with delightful bursts of pain. The other hand brushed along my
folds, up to my clit, and a single touch was all it took.
 My breath caught as an eruption of ecstasy shook me, momentarily
making me black out. As I was coming down from my peak, something
appeared in front of my face.
I blinked away the haze of my orgasm, bringing the green object into
focus. It was a bundle of vines connected to the swing, threaded into a long,
girthy shape with a bulbous head, closely resembling his cock—only a little
larger yet.
My eyes widened as the plant phallus pressed against my lips, and
Skrain let out a lust-hoarse laugh.
“One of your pretty holes isn’t enough tonight, my darling wife. Either
you get it nice and wet, or I’ll fuck your ass dry. It’ll hurt both ways, just as
you like it, but you decide how much,” he said, favoring me with a wink.
My eyes rolled back as pleasure surged through me. I couldn’t get
enough of him talking down to me like that. There was nothing I wouldn’t
have done if he spoke to me this way. I would have let him do anything to
me, followed any order, even crawled on hands and knees.
My mouth fell slack and the bundle of vines slid between my lips. My
tongue swirled around it, exploring the ridges and bumps, sampling its
earthy, grassy tang.
The green phallus retreated and a moment later, as it prodded my ass, I
took a deep breath, relaxing my muscles. It squirmed into me, the pleasure
and pain of the stretch bringing tears to my eyes.
“Oh Creators, this is even bigger than the plug,” I groaned, gritting my
teeth.
“That’s it, my pain slut,” Skrain murmured, his thrusts not letting up.
“Just a little more.”
The vines writhed. They contracted and expanded, moving like a snake,
touching every sensitive nerve, claiming every inch of my insides. The
sensation was so foreign, so alien, so fucking amazing, shivers of flame
passed through me.
“My naughty wife is doing so well,” Skrain said, leaning down to press
his lips to mine. “Taking her husband into both holes at once, just like a
good slut should.”
I moaned against his mouth, hungry for him and for the taste of tobacco
and wine lingering on his tongue.
“One of these … days,” he panted while he was rutting into me like a
wild animal. “I’ll get a mage to remove that Gods damned protection spell
and—” He kissed me, ravenous, teeth grazing my bottom lip as he pulled
away. “And then I’ll make everyone watch while I finally put a baby in you.”
That was it for me.
My second climax almost tore me in two.
I floated, a hum under my skin. I thought it would never end, wave after
wave of heat rolling through me, goose bumps scattered across my body.
When I stopped convulsing, Skrain pulled out. He stroked himself, pumping
once, twice—
 Threads of white spurted from the head of his cock, soaking my dress,
streaking my thighs and belly, glazing my mound. Some landed on my hair
and face, right by my mouth, and I greedily lapped up the salty droplets.
“Told you I’ll only stop after you’re covered in my cum.” Skrain grinned,
tail swaying. “What a pretty mess you are …” He slid a finger along his seed
on my chest and brought it to my mouth. I sucked it between my lips, his
eyes blazing as I licked it clean.
“Maybe I should leave you hanging out here for the servants to find
tomorrow morning?” he suggested, brows raised.
I huffed a tired laugh. “You’d never. I know you can’t sleep without me,”
I teased, letting my overworked muscles fall limp in the swing.
He shook his head, faking disappointment, while he freed me from his
vines. “Damn. You saw right through me.”
When I was safe in his arms again, my lids already shuttering on the way
upstairs, he snickered. “So, the thought of me getting you pregnant makes
you come, huh?”
“It makes you come, too,” I slurred, my tongue slow from content
exhaustion.
“You bet it does, Kerys.”
I dozed off when a stray thought rattled my brain half-awake.
“What about containing the demon?” I groaned. “Now that the stone is
complete, he won’t wait much longer. And what if it doesn’t work, what if—”
Skrain pressed a hand to my mouth. “Don’t worry, my darling wife.
We’ve waited this long; we can wait one more night. Rest now. And when
the sun rises, we’ll solve those problems—together.”
I barely managed to nod before my head fell against his chest, my eyes
too heavy to stay open.
Together, I thought. Yes, together, we’ll find a way.
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Emily smiled at Kerys, patting the examination table. “Come, sit.”
My wife’s eyes narrowed, studying the dark stains atop the wood.
“Thank you, but I prefer to stand,” she said, cringing while she shuffled
closer to me.
A smirk tugged on my lips. For a first-time visitor, Emily’s basement lab
sure fit the “terrifying blood witch” narrative, especially with the thick scent
of copper, herbs, and rubbing alcohol wafting through the room. Kerys’s
gaze wandered along the strange jars and mottled tomes lining the shelves,
and she stifled a shiver.
Emily huffed, using a piece of string to tie her curly hair—back to a
shade of chocolate brown—in a messy, low ponytail. “Suit yourself, but
don’t say I didn’t warn you if you get woozy from the bloodlink.” She spun
around, lifting a leather doctor’s bag atop the table before sticking both
arms inside. Metal clanked as she searched through it, frowning.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Bloodlink? Hold up, Emily. No one has
agreed to anything so far. We literally just stepped through the door, and
we can’t hear your thoughts out loud. You haven’t even properly explained
what you have in mind.”
She paused, tapping her chin. “Right. I apologize. Sometimes, when it
comes to hemomancy, I get a little ahead of myself.” She cleared her throat
and entwined her hands at her belly. “Before we begin … Skrain, you’re
keeping an eye out for Aculeus?”
I crossed my arms, grinning as I sniffed the air like a hunting hound.
“Call me your guard dog. Woof.”
Emily snickered. “Still, I wouldn’t like to draw out this meeting longer
than we have to. We never know when the demon will come knocking.” She
turned toward Kerys. “Skrain has explained your situation. He said we have
two problems. One, we need to make Aculeus believe his chance at using
the soulstone is gone forever, have him lose his temper so we can take him
by surprise. And two, we need to weaken his powers before you can bind
him into the gem. Correct?”
Kerys gave a nod, letting out a wry laugh. “It almost sounds simple when
you say it like that.”
“Well, I think together we can achieve this. It won’t be easy, and it won’t
be without risks, but we can do it.” Her head tilted as she raised an index
finger. “Under one condition.”
I groaned, teeth gritting. “Really, Emily?”
“Yes, really.” She smiled softly, her tone calm and patient. “For this to
work, I need you both to trust me—fully trust me. Especially you, Kerys. For
safety reasons, I should know what you two have been hiding, why you’re
even in this situation. I mean, come on!” She pointed at me. “Kerys called
you her husband, for crying out loud.”
My shoulders stiffened, but when my attention flicked to Kerys, the
annoyance melted from my chest. We exchanged a long look, and I knew
what my wife was going to say even before she did.
“I think we should tell her,” she said, reaching to squeeze my arm.
“There’s nothing to be ashamed of, Skrain.”
I exhaled a deep breath. “Fine.”
“It’s a complicated story, but to make it short,” Kerys started, biting her
cheek, trying to find the right, tactful words before blunt honesty won out.
“I’m Skrain’s dead wife, reborn. Nice to meet you.”
My ribs tightened. What a way to rip the dressing from the wound.
Emily blinked, throwing a quick glance at the locket around my neck,
but her smile didn’t falter. “Love that spans lifetimes, hmm? A death-
touched soul does make things a bit more complicated, though. I’m glad you
told me, or we might’ve been in trouble. And how is the demon involved?”
Heat spiked through my blood, my pulse speeding up when I thought of
all the times Aculeus had fucked us over. My tail thunked against the
examination table as I swallowed to find my voice.
“He was the one who brought her back. The prick also knows about the
soulstone and wants to use it to capture me. Kerys is playing along to flip
the scheme on him at the last moment.”
Emily nodded, chewing on the nail of her thumb. “Well, one part of my
plan still works.” She turned to the shelves, picking out a tattered tome,
flicking it open where a torn bookmark stuck out. Her lips moved silently as
her finger drew along lines of writing. She smirked as she looked up at us.
“A binding circle is the perfect method to temporarily imprison and
weaken Aculeus,” she said. “But not just any old binding circle will do for a
demon of his strength. I’ll draw it in Skrain’s blood, and because they share
the same taint, theoretically, the runes should react to his magic, snap like
a trap. They’ll sap him—to a degree—and turn his power against him,
forming a barrier he can’t break. For a while, at least.”
 I frowned. “So, it works on the same principle as my magic being unable
to harm him?”
Emily beamed a grin. “Kind of. In this case, because of my spell, you can
imagine it like two magnets repelling each other, like-poles pointing toward
the other.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” Kerys cut in. “But how do we get him to step
into the circle?”
Emily set the book aside on the examination table, closing it. Her fingers
drummed on the cover. “I will use the same herbs you used for your
cloaking enchant in the monastery, shroudgrass and veilweft root. Mixed
into Skrain’s blood, they will make the runes invisible to the naked eye until
they are activated.
“The magical signature of the circle will still be noticeable, though. And
with a spell this powerful, I won’t be able to hide it without great effort,
which would leave me unable to help you in any other capacity at the same
time.”
Kerys paced, wringing her hands. With a gasp, she froze. “What about a
location where traces of Skrain’s magic already linger? Would that help?”
Emily’s brows rose. “It surely would.”
I immediately realized what Kerys meant. “The ritual site at the old
manor,” I said, slamming a fist onto the examination table, and my wife
smiled in agreement.
Emily laughed. “I feel like I’m missing another piece of crucial
information.”
“When we returned to Xar’vath, Kerys and I performed an advanced,
very powerful ritual to help her regain the memories of her life with me
before she died,” I explained. “I also used some of my blood for it, and the
signature of my magic should still be there.”
“That should suffice,” Emily said and returned to the shelves, humming
to herself. Her hand drifted along the faded spines of old books. “At a
distance, at least. But you will need to lure him right into the circle.”
I huffed. “Do you have an idea for that part as well? I can stall him,
evade him for a while, maybe even get him into the circle. But if it comes
down to an actual fight, Aculeus will turn me into fucking mincemeat.”
Kerys twisted toward me, fingers digging into my arm as she grabbed
me. “I won’t let you fight him.”
“He won’t have to,” Emily interrupted. “Well, he will have to fight a
little.” She plucked another tome from the shelves, flipping through the
pages as she spoke. “I believe the best way to disguise the circle once the
demon gets up close is to make him use his powers. Not controlled, but in a
reckless fashion. We need him distracted.”
“Angry,” Kerys chimed in.
Emily’s chin dipped in confirmation. “Exactly. We want him to lash out,
uncaring about the consequences. That should mask the energy of the
binding runes until it’s too late.”
 I waved a hand. “Good luck with that. I’ve pissed him off in the past, but
never to a point of him losing control. He’s frustratingly calculated.”
“A man, or demon, with nothing to lose is the most unhinged. Correct?”
Emily asked.
Kerys and I nodded in unison.
“Then we just need to make him think he lost,” she continued and
glanced at me. “And that means the only person who can make this
soulstone, the only person who can wield it, has to die.”
My mouth gaped. It felt like Emily had just hit me across the head with
that heavy book.
Kerys blanched. “I … what? I have to die?”
The word die from my wife’s mouth had the reality of Emily’s suggestion
crashing over me like a tidal wave.
A roar broke from my throat, and I surged forward. Thorny vines lashed
from my palms, but a hold on my sleeve made me pause. Kerys’s fingers
gripped my tunic, but even the gentleness in her eyes couldn’t fully calm my
rage. Out of respect for her, I would forgo violence—for the moment.
I glared at Emily. “How dare you suggest this?” My hands balled into
fists, thorns burning as they dug into my flesh, trickles of green blood
dripping onto the floor. “I should have you executed.”
To my surprise, Emily stayed calm. Her stance was open, shoulders
relaxed as she clicked her tongue. “After all these years of my loyal service
to you, I thought you’d know me better than to assume I would hurt you or
those you care about. Maybe I should feel a little insulted.”
“Then fucking explain yourself,” I growled through clenched teeth.
“I stand by my suggestion. Kerys has to die,” Emily said, and I flinched,
fighting to contain my fury. “But I’m aware we can’t let her soul cross over
because she died and was brought back once already. We need to keep it in
this realm, hide and tether it until the trap is sprung.”
My tail scraped along the ground, piercings screeching on the tiles.
“Fuck that idea and fuck you, Emily! I—”
Kerys raised a hand, and my mouth snapped shut. Terror was plain on
her face and in the stiffening of her spine, but she regarded me with a small
smile. “Wait, please, my beloved husband. Let her finish. Unless you have a
better idea, I want to hear what she has to say.”
I shook, cracking my neck as I slowly turned to Emily. “You get exactly
thirty seconds to clarify, and it better be a fucking good explanation, or I’ll
make sure to rip you into so many pieces, even your Gods damned
hemomancy can’t fix you.”
Emily inclined her head, regarding me with one of her annoyingly
friendly, compassionate smiles. “Of course, Skrain. I understand why you’re
angry and worried, and I’m sorry I see this as the only option. This is why I
said I need you to trust me, because I think I can keep Kerys safe—if you’ll
both let me.”
Kerys swallowed audibly. “Go on,” she choked out.
 “Thank you for giving me a chance,” Emily said. She set both palms atop
the examination table as she leaned conspiratorially toward us. “Now then,
have you ever heard of a bloodlinked soul covenant?”
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W
ith a dull crack, the tip of my boot hit Skrain’s jaw, and his head
snapped sideways. My stomach jumped as an ache built in the
back of my throat, but I forced myself to laugh.
Even on his knees, bruises covering his face, shackles I enchanted
binding his magic and his wrists, Skrain was imposing. Strength in the stiff
set of his shoulders. Defiance in the lift of his chin as he looked up at me,
the setting sun behind him throwing his shadow at my feet. And—only for
me to see—a glimmer of another emotion in his eyes, for the fraction of a
heartbeat, fast enough to miss.
Affectionate pride. Reassurance.
The best way to make it look real is for it to be real, Kerys. Don’t worry.
I can take it, he’d whispered during the ride here. Just remember how mad
you were when you thought I killed you. Channel that contempt, and you’ll
do fine.
How awfully right Skrain was. With the cuffs dulling his magic, he
wouldn’t be able to detect Aculeus as accurately, and we had to assume he
might have already been watching.
The stud in his forked tongue glistened as he licked a trickle of dark
green blood from the corner of his lips.
“Didn’t know you were into dishing out the pain instead of receiving it.”
He smirked at me. “Actually, I didn’t think this was what you had in mind
when you brought me out here to the destroyed mansion. What did you call
it? An especially naughty roleplay? And Emily joining us now? Pah, I never
would have guessed you were after a threesome.”
“Disgusting,” Emily said, stepping to my side.
 “If you two can play practical jokes on me, I’m allowed an amusing
comment or two,” Skrain cut in, the grin immovably carved into his face.
“I’m taking it like a good sport, aren’t I?”
He played clueless as we intended. For now, he was meant to act as if he
considered all of this an outrageous prank.
Emily grimaced and spat on the roof tiles right in front of him. Her
saliva landed on a faded line of murky blood, left over from the memory-
retrieval ritual we performed weeks ago.
I hadn’t seen it myself, but Emily assured me she had drawn the binding
circle this morning while Skrain called on Aculeus, distracting him with a
fake discussion on taking down a budding business rival in the capital.
Our assumption held true, the old ritual site made for an ideal cover,
masking the spell signature of the new one a little further toward the edge
of the roof. If I didn’t know what I was looking for, I wouldn’t have noticed
the subtle resonance of power from here.
We could only hope that Aculeus wouldn’t notice it, either.
My chest squeezed as I recalled our preparations in her laboratory late
last night, Skrain standing guard. It seemed like eons ago.
A flurry of power had surged from Emily as she cut runes into her left
palm, then mine, chanting under her breath. I remembered the sting as her
obsidian ritual blade split my flesh and I clenched my teeth so hard I feared
they might crack. When she brought our hands together, mixing my blood
with hers, heat burned through me.
A bloodlinked soul covenant, she called it.
I’m basically your sister now, she’d said with a cheerful grin. Soul sister.
I glanced down at my left hand, flexing. There was no trace of a scar,
courtesy of Emily’s hemomancy knitting my wound together. Aculeus would
be none the wiser, she assured me. Her rune across the back of my neck
already put her magical signature on me, and the demon knew about that.
While my hand was healing, she had mixed an odd, foul-smelling
concoction. Every ingredient she pulled from the shelves and dropped into a
pot simmering above a small fireplace was more questionable than the last.
Yellow bones. Scraps of something meaty. Bunches of coarse, red twine,
maybe hair.
The thought almost made me gag. I didn’t want to know.
At least I didn’t have to drink it, only suffer the sting of a needle in the
bend of my elbow as she injected me with the repulsive serum.
Emily laid a hand on my shoulder, her casual touch helping me to regain
my focus. “I don’t know how you endured fucking this cretin,” she said,
grimacing. “Working for him was bad. But sharing his bed? Gods, no! I
couldn’t take enough baths to wash off that taint.”
The spark of pure malice in her iron gaze took me off guard, every word
dripping with hate like a blade coated in poison. She played the role of evil
co-conspirator just as easily as she played the doe-eyed, giggling admirer in
the theater.
 I gave an indifferent shrug. “Sometimes, when victory is out of reach,
you have to settle for revenge. And this moment was worth going along with
his sick desires.”
“Well, I’d call this more of a delayed victory,” Emily said, snickering
brightly. “After all, when Skrain is gone, we’ll both be rich. And once I’ve
gotten my reward, I’ll also remove that rune from the back of your neck.
Lucky for you, the proximity spell is bound to his magic, his soul, so you can
just carry around the stone until then. Can you imagine having to drag
around his rotting corpse?” Emily asked with a humorous lilt, giving my arm
two squeezes.
My pulse skipped.
The sign for I’m ready.
“Speaking of delays, I’m done with him.” I rolled my eyes. “Let’s get this
over with.”
“And I’m done with this little game of yours,” Skrain chimed in, his
smirk finally slipping as he sighed. “We’ve all had a good laugh and made
fun of mean old Skrain. You wanted to give me a taste of my own medicine,
humiliate me, make me hurt. I understand the curiosity. But I’ve tolerated
this long enough, and I want you to unbind me right now.”
As we planned, I ignored his demand and reached into my pocket, my
fingers brushing along the smooth surface of the soulstone. I took out a
bundle of gauze, unwrapping layer after layer after layer, until I reached a
square of thick felt. Stuck in it, sharp side first, was the thorn Aculeus had
given me. Hands shaking, I pulled it free, discarding the rest.
With my life, Skrain’s life, and Emily’s life on the line, the black spike
somehow looked bigger. Sharper. Longer.
I gritted my teeth against the onslaught of anxiety lashing my insides.
Before I could overthink it, before I let all those terrifying possibilities of
failure get to my head, I pressed the thorn to the tip of my index finger.
A drop of red pearled from the tiny puncture.
At first, I thought the undulating mass of darkness appearing at the
edge of the roof was a swarm of insects, but then it took shape.
Long arms, falling nearly to the ground. Spindly legs. Hunched
shoulders and a face of black nothingness.
“Well, well, Keryssa. I admit I had my suspicions; thought you wouldn’t
follow through … but what a wonderful present this is! It’s even gift-
wrapped,” Aculeus said, hissing laughter accentuating the last word as he
approached. “Seems like you already had some fun of your own with Skrain.
Who knew you were powerful enough to subdue him by yourself?”
I gestured at Emily, who gave the demon a cheeky wave. “I had a little
help,” I said, bringing up the carefully prepared excuse for her presence.
“Skrain’s blood witch. Interesting,” Aculeus snarled. “And here I
thought you were loyal to your Xar’vathi master.”
“Are you kidding me?” Emily scoffed. “I was just waiting for the right
moment to get what I’m owed. And when Kerys asked me for assistance to
enchant the shackles with Skrain’s concentrated blood, it was the perfect
opportunity. She said we’ll split his fortune 60-40. Good enough for me.”
I let out a scornful laugh. “And luring the idiot here was too easy. He
thought it was some sort of fetish play when I put the shackles on him, and
once he realized what was actually happening, it was too late.”
Skrain got to his feet, scowling. “I should have known you had
something to do with this crass joke, Aculeus!”
The demon snickered. “I wouldn’t miss this spectacle for the world, and
soon you’ll realize this is no jest. Soon, you’ll be calling me master.”
In a flurry of rage, ponytail flying, Skrain spun around to face the demon
fully. “I’d rather fucking die than submit to you!” he yelled, but hidden
behind his back, out of Aculeus’s view, he wiggled his fingers rhythmically.
The second sign.
An invisible noose tightened around my neck, and my breath caught.
I concentrated on the cuffs. As the one who had cast the enchantment,
weakening the spell was a trivial task, and with the residual magic from the
old ritual circle, Aculeus wouldn’t be able to sense such a small surge.
But I knew what came next, and that part had nauseous acid burning my
throat.
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Aculeus tutted, already reveling in his nearing victory.
“You’ve always been special to me, Skrain,” he crooned. “No other
mortal soul I’ve tasted has your endurance, your talent for delicious
suffering. They all buckle and break, destroying themselves sooner or later.
But you’re different. Once I have your soul captured in that wonderful gem
your wife created for me, I’ll be more powerful than I have ever been. You
will nourish and entertain me for millennia.”
Skrain’s head snapped to me. He sputtered, struggling to compose
himself. “You … you’re truly in league with him?” His jaw dropped, eyes
dimming with sorrow and hostility.
He played his role brilliantly. So brilliantly, I thought my heart was
going to explode.
I scoffed. “What? Did you seriously think I could ever love someone as
wicked and twisted as you?”
With a growl, Skrain’s brow furrowed, teeth baring into a feral grin.
“You’ve betrayed the wrong man, bitch.”
He tensed, the muscles on his back and biceps tightening under his
tunic. A cry of fury surging from his throat, he yanked his arms apart.
Like rusted, weathered chains, the shackles crumbled, and his freed
hand flicked toward me.
Agony pierced my chest. I barely had time to glance down and see the
massive thorn sticking from my ribs like a stiletto dagger—when my legs
gave out.
Skrain had promised his poison would act fast. Painless.
But as I looked to him, I would have accepted endless torment in
exchange for one last glance at his face. Our gazes met, a flicker of grief in
the depths of his eyes before he spun and threw himself at Aculeus.
 The ground came closer, yet I didn’t feel a thing when I met the stone. I
tried to breathe, but my lungs refused. My eyes shuttered, the weight of my
lids like iron gates. Emily’s scream was delayed, sounding far away, fading
further, just like the beat of my heart, drumming in my ears while—

I couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. But I was moving, a rapid pulse beating in
my chest, quick breaths expanding my ribs. And my eyes—no, not my eyes.
Not my chest.
Not my pulse.
Through someone’s eyes, I watched Aculeus whip a thorny vine at
Skrain, who dove out of the way. Lesions littered my husband’s body,
verdant blood oozing from cuts beneath his ripped tunic and trousers. He
was panting, loosened hair falling from his ponytail and sticking to his
forehead, green trickling from his nose over his mouth, down his chin.
Skrain was fighting a losing battle.
How long had I been gone and where the Hells was I?
“You damned fool! You ruined everything!” Aculeus howled, striking out
again.
Skrain narrowly avoided the lash, coming to a skidding halt a few steps
away.
“Did you think I wouldn’t kill Keryssa because I loved her? Seems you
don’t know me that well after all. Nobody gets away with betraying me,”
Skrain shouted, a note of triumph in his voice as he flung his arms above his
head, vines twirling. They shot out, surging right through the shadows
forming the demon’s body.
I knew he couldn’t harm Aculeus, but seeing it happen, seeing my
husband bleed and suffer, helpless—I couldn’t bear it.
The demon let out a dark laugh, skulking toward Skrain who backed
away, inching closer and closer to the hidden ritual circle.
“You took my feeding ground, Skrain. Your stupid revolt in the mines
ruined me. So much suffering to feed on, so many miserable souls perishing
every day,” Aculeus said, the sound of a smile in his voice. “And in turn, I
ruined you.”
Skrain stumbled, the same genuine confusion I felt crossing his face,
too.
“You’re lying, demon,” he brought out.
Aculeus snarled, shaking his head. “You stupid little man. This one time
I will tell you the truth. Then you can live out your last mortal moments in
anguish, knowing that I, the one who saved you from death, the one who
helped you build your empire and brought back your beloved is the one who
destroyed your life.”
 Skrain’s jaw slackened, and so did his vines. “Everything you’ve done …
it was about revenge? You’ve planned this from the start?”
“Did you think it was pure chance I was there to offer you aid when you
tried to kill yourself like a coward? Oh no, no.” Aculeus snickered,
enraptured in his self-aggrandizing speech. “And a mortal could’ve never
avoided the guard patrols around your estate. It was me who helped Ytzal to
get inside, brought him right into your house to murder your sweet wife and
burn down everything you cared about.”
Terror jolted through me. Aculeus had pulled the strings for over a
century, made us dance for him like dolls.
Skrain stood frozen, gawking. “You’ve manipulated me all this time. You
had Kerys killed,” he said, tone flat. “And now you’ve come to collect your
final reward.”
I raged against the invisible prison holding me, but no matter how hard I
tried, I couldn’t lift a limb, couldn’t utter a word.
“Isn’t it spectacular?” Aculeus threw his head back, arms spreading. “I
am quite proud of myself. And then, after you and I made our deal, I kept
Keryssa’s soul hidden in the Hells, just so you would search for her in vain.
In the meantime, I helped you eliminate your business rivals, rebuild your
wealth. Until, of course, I wanted you to find her in that filthy brothel.”
Skrain let out a mad laugh, striking at the demon once more without
effect. “I get it. You assisted me and brought us together again, just so you
could break me!”
“Indeed. Taking away your capacity to love, to feel happy was—how do
you mortals say? The cherry on top? I knew it would make your emotions
spiral out of control when you met her again, and you’d suffer worse for it,”
Aculeus said. “Initially, I had hoped Lara would do a better job, but even
with my assistance, she was useless. When you managed to save Keryssa, I
settled on the long game.”
Skrain regained his composure and grinned. “You did a sloppy job
hiding your involvement with Lara. Emily found traces of your magic. That
part I knew all along!”
Aculeus let out a bored huff. “And yet you failed to stop me. Yet you
failed to save your wife or yourself. The entire time, you played right into
my hands.
“You see, when you brought her back to this despicable desert, I only
planned to make her believe you killed her, hoping she’d never forgive you
and it would break your heart. But when I saw her memory of the soulstone,
I grasped the opportunity for something better than that. I realized I could
use Keryssa.”
Frost speared through me at the demon’s words. I hated myself for
falling for such an obvious ploy.
“All I had to do was convince her that she wanted revenge, exploit her
anger, and subtly steer the conversation toward the stone,” Aculeus
continued. “I knew if I made her bring it up by herself, she’d never suspect I
glimpsed her vision and manipulated it.”
He sauntered toward Skrain. For the moment, he’d stopped attacking,
secure in his arrogance and focusing on his grand speech. He knew he was
going to win.
Panic engulfed me. I wanted out. Away. To help. Save Skrain. Anything,
just not being stuck here, as-as—
Stay calm, Emily’s voice sounded from all around me. I know you’re
confused by the gaps in your memory. This is a terrifying experience for
you, but if you want me to put your soul back where it belongs, you must
trust me. Once-dead souls are difficult to capture, Kerys. I almost didn’t
catch you, even with the blood bond. We don’t have much time. Don’t resist.
Skrain would kill me if I lost you—or Gods forbid—you got stuck in my body.
Emily. The blood covenant we formed in her lab. I remembered. How
could I have forgotten?
When my—her gaze fell to my corpse, I wanted to scream. I laid pale
and unmoving, no breath raising my chest.
For the second time, I was dead, and it was no less horrifying.
The antidote I injected you with should have neutralized Skrain’s poison
by now, I heard Emily again. And not one moment too soon. I don’t think
your husband can hold out much longer. I need you to focus your intent.
Imagine a tether from me to your body, like a thread. I’ll try to push you
back now.
The heat of magic filled me, her power entirely unlike my own. Her spell
was a force of nature, though not like rain or the tide. It was as dark as a
cloudy night and as forceful as a monsoon yet controlled like a whirlpool in
a teacup.
I tried to do as she instructed, tried to concentrate …
Nothing happened.
Focus harder, Kerys. I can’t do this without your help. Remember what
it’s like to feel wind in your hair or a splash of cold water on your face. Even
what it’s like to hurt, a cut, a bruise. Anything. You must connect yourself to
your body.
I couldn’t remember. It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes
since my death, but I couldn’t remember what it was like to have a physical
form. Had I ever felt the breeze on my skin? A gash in my flesh?
Hadn’t I always been like this? Untethered? Formless?
But there was one thought burning in my soul, bright as the sun and
clear as the cloudless sky.
Skrain.
My husband.
His touch. How his hands slid along my waist, drawing goose bumps
across my skin. The pressure of his arms around my chest when he held me.
A shimmering red string of wavering energy appeared between Emily
and my body.
 Good, very good. Whatever you’re doing, it’s working, I heard Emily say.
Almost there. Just a little more.
I thought of Skrain’s soft lips, pressed to mine. The taste of tobacco on
his tongue and—
The world spun. My vision swam.
It felt like I’d been thrown off a horse, kicked in the head by its hooves
on the way down. Oh, by the Creators, my skull ached.
The first breath hurt, my lungs on fire. My muscles were stiff, even the
flex of a finger taking the effort of moving a mountain.
But I was me again. Alive. With every twitch, with every gasp, my
mobility returned.
My eyes flicked to Skrain. He’d sustained a slash on his cheek, his right
arm twisted, hanging limp.
How much more time had passed?
Aculeus gouged his thigh with a shadow vine, shimmering with green
essence as it retreated. Skrain stumbled, healthy arm reaching to press on
the new wound.
“With Kerys dead, you’ll never get to use the soulstone on me. How that
must sting!” Skrain laughed, coughing up blood. “The great Aculeus’s plan,
so carefully curated and yet ruined by a puny mortal he couldn’t control.
Pathetic!”
The demon growled. “You were my puppet for a century, and now the
time has come to cut your strings. I might not get to keep your soul for
eternity, but I’ll enjoy tearing your weak flesh apart before I devour all
that’s left of you.”
Aculeus shot forward. Arm rearing back, with an ear-shattering howl, he
barreled into Skrain.
They fell, tumbling across the ground, a ball of shadows and vines and
thorns and emerald blood, but as they came to a halt, green runes glowed to
life around them.
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Her fingers twitched.
Her chest heaved.
Her head raised.
The weight of a thousand bricks lifted from my heart.
Aculeus was too busy gloating, too busy looking at me, tormenting me,
to notice.
Every part of my body was hurting, but I felt like smiling.
Those minutes she was gone had been the longest of my damn life. I
knew if she didn’t come back, if the bond failed, if the antidote failed, I
would’ve let the demon kill me, just as he wanted.
I couldn’t live without her. Not again.
When Emily suggested this plan, I despised that she was right, hated
that this was the only solution to trick Aculeus. He had to believe the
soulstone was lost, and the only way to do that was to stop Kerys’s heart.
How could I fucking agree to kill my wife?
Shooting that thorn at her, injuring her, murdering her—it was my worst
nightmare come true. She had agreed, knew what she was getting into, but
taking her life was the most wretched of all my crimes. And if by some cruel
turn of fate, she died and I survived the demon, I would have turned a blade
on myself again, and this time, nobody could have stopped me.
But Emily’s spell and antidote worked.
Kerys was alive, and that meant she was counting on me. Even if it felt
like every bone in my body was broken, even if I was dizzy from blood loss—
I had to fulfill my part.
We were almost there. Just a few more steps. I had to get Aculeus really
fucking angry, had to make him lose that last thread of control, make him
want to get up close and personal to finish me off.
 Thank the Gods, I had saved the best for last.
“With Kerys dead, you’ll never get to use the soulstone on me. How that
must sting! The great Aculeus’s plan, so carefully curated and yet ruined by
a puny mortal he couldn’t control. Pathetic!” I spat.
That did it.
I didn’t listen to what he said, focusing my wavering consciousness on
his body language. When he charged forward, I was ready.
I twisted, and the impact of his form knocked the breath from me. We
fell, my head slamming onto the roof tiles. My skull felt like splitting, but I
fought back with all I had, the desert spinning as we wrestled, until finally—
Green runes flickered to life all around us, and gargled, blood-drenched
laughter welled in my throat.
Aculeus froze, his fist of thorns an inch from my forehead, and I wished
he had a damn face, just so I could’ve seen the stupid look on it. He shot to
his feet and tried to step outside of the circle. With a hiss, he recoiled as if
he’d hit a wall. He slashed at it, vines and claws and shadows, but the circle
held.
Emily’s assumption was correct.
Because I shared a part of Aculeus’s power, because the same
corruption flowed through my veins, the runes reacted to him, weakened
him. Trapped him.
And limping toward the circle, propped up by Emily, was Kerys—
soulstone in hand. My heart fluttered. She was stunning, hair messy,
determination crinkling her forehead, and conviction in her eyes.
There was only one issue, one risk we’d anticipated, but accepted.
The circle had an effect on me, too. A worse one than on the demon.
I reached for my magic, but no amount of willpower could ignite the
spark within me. While my powers might have been entirely suppressed,
Aculeus’s were far greater, even now—and judging by the vine lashing at
me, tearing open my healthy forearm while I gritted my teeth, he was about
to prove it.
His shadow vine wrapped around my neck, lifting me high. I choked,
kicking weakly, but I couldn’t reach him. So long as the circle was active, I
was as useless as any damn mortal.
“Let me out, or I will kill him!” Aculeus howled.
My eyes fixed on Kerys and I prayed she could read the words in them.
Don’t listen to him. Don’t give up.
She smiled, and though I was a defenseless hostage, suffocation burning
my lungs, warmth coiled through my chest.
Fuck, I would have died for that smile and that cute dimple on her left
cheek. For those blue eyes. For the crinkle in her nose. For that little star-
shaped birthmark on the nape of her neck.
Black crept into my vision, but I kept looking at her.
If my death meant she would be free of the demon and live safely, live
freely, my sacrifice had purpose.
 “No, Aculeus,” Kerys said, tone hoarse, but firm. “After a hundred years
of scheming and plotting, you fail.”
Her brow furrowed. She swayed, but Emily steadied her as the soulstone
began to glow. Her lips moved rapidly, reciting the spell like a fervent,
desperate prayer, like she wouldn’t stop until her plea was heard.
By shadows’ void, where darkness reigns,
A stone to bind in blood and chains.
Through silence, deceit, and regret its power swells,
To imprison this dreadful monster from the Hells.
The stream of words flowed like a river, weaving syllables into one
another, over and over. Aculeus squeezed harder, and my spine ached.
Creaked. If he applied more pressure, my bones would just sna—
The demon stumbled, letting go.
Like a sack of sand, I fell. I grabbed my throat, gasping and coughing as
I laid on the ground, too weak to move.
Aculeus’s form wavered. “Emily,” he cooed, his tone suddenly turning
saccharine. “If you release me, I will grant you any wish. Greater power,
immortality. I could even take you to the Hells, show you things few other
mortals have seen.”
Emily’s head tilted. She tapped her lips with her free hand, humming.
“Sorry.” She grinned. “I think I’d rather watch you lose.”
“No!” the demon screeched. “You can’t kill me or he will die, too! And
you will never, never contain me!”
Kerys’s knees wobbled, hands trembling, but she kept standing. She
kept casting, her unblinking eyes wide open. Sweat ran down her temples, a
drop of blood trickling from her nose over her lips.
Aculeus wailed in rage as his limbs turned to black mist. “One day I will
have my revenge and all of you will regret ever drawing your first breath!”
“You’re wrong about that, too,” Emily cut in. “And if you try, we’ll be
ready for you. We defeated you once, and we can do it again.”
The demon’s hips and torso dissolved into shadows, too, and last, his
head joined the swirling darkness. In a steady stream, it was drawn through
the barrier to the soulstone, filling the inside.
Kerys’s chest heaved, but still, she held out.
Only when the last wisp disappeared into the glowing gem, her legs
buckled, and Emily sunk to the ground with her, gently helping her to sit
down. Emily dispelled the circle with a wave of her hand, and the hum of my
magic filled me once more, slowly beginning to mend my injuries. Too
slowly.
Smiling, Emily took the jewel from Kerys. She offered her a hand, but
my wife shook her head, her gaze flicking to me. With a tired grin on her
lips, she crawled toward me. She giggled, dragging herself across the
ground on hands and knees.
 “I—” I coughed again, the sour taste of copper on my tongue. “I should
make you crawl for me some time,” I said, smirking. “If I hadn’t lost so
much blood, I’d be fucking hard as Hells right now.”
“I’ll remember that,” she responded with a snicker and fell against me.
I groaned in pain, but my heart was light. Feeling her close, the beat of
her pulse, the rise of her ribs as she breathed—it was worth ignoring the
agony fracturing my body. It took all my remaining strength to wrap an arm
around her, and she cuddled into me.
“I’ll never let you die again,” I whispered. “Next time we die together.”
“It’s a deal,” she said. “I’ve never been so scared, Skrain.”
My chest tightened. “I’m sorry. For everything. I should have insisted on
a different method, I understand if you hate me after I really was the one
who killed you this time and—”
“No,” she interrupted, her voice soft. “I mean, yes, dying again was
scary, there’s no denying that. But the worst part, the part that terrified me
more than anything, was to see you helpless while my soul was tethered to
Emily. Watching you get injured, knowing I couldn’t save you, knowing if
you died, your soul would be devoured, and I couldn’t even find you in the
next life …” Her breath hitched as she shook her head. “Those moments
were my own, personal Hells, Skrain.”
“We’re together now, my darling wife.” I twisted and kissed the top of
her head. “Nothing will ever tear us apart again, I promise. And I’m so
proud of you.” I wheezed, craning my neck to look at Emily. “Both of you.”
“I told you I’d have your back,” Emily said and laughed, but I could see
the fatigue alongside relief in her dim eyes, her shoulders falling. “If you
two have rested down there quite enough, I’ll patch you both up. I brought a
medkit, just in case my magic is too exhausted. But don’t worry, I’ve fixed
worse, and Skrain is already starting to heal. Then we’ll hurry home. I hear
we have a special occasion to plan.”
Kerys huffed in agreement. “Do you remember what you promised me,
Skrain?”
I raised a brow. “I make a lot of promises to you, and I will keep them
all, my priceless treasure. But you’ll have to remind me which one you’re
referring to right now.”
“A wedding. You promised me another wedding!” Kerys said, squirming.
“But you haven’t even proposed yet.”
I felt like slapping myself. How the Hells had I forgotten to pop the most
important fucking question?
My ribs creaked like thin, very breakable, very painful twigs as I pushed
myself upright and pulled Kerys with me. I swallowed hard. The desert
spun, but I didn’t care. Fuck my injuries—I had the most beautiful, most
intelligent, most amazing woman across all realms to propose to.
“I’m sorry I didn’t ask earlier, and I’ll ask again with a ring, but for now,
please, Kerys, hear me out.”
She gave a shy nod, a hint of color returning to her face as she blushed.
 “I might be a cynical man. A brutal man, who is difficult to love, with a
heart as cold and hard and volatile as emeralds wrapped in thorns.”
Wincing from the agony of my wounds, I set kisses on her brow, the tip of
her nose, then her lips. “But this emerald heart of thorns is yours. You make
it bloom, and what good are thorns without roses? Just like that, I’m nothing
without you. And because I can’t live a day without you, because I can’t take
a single breath without you, I ask …”
I took her hands into mine, my thumb caressing across her knuckles.
“Will you marry me again, Keryssa?”
She bit her lip. Tears welled in her eyes, but she smirked, showing me
that damn kissable dimple.
“Fuck yes, I’ll marry you, Skrain Ra’shok!” she shouted. “In this life and
the next, and the next …” She leaned her forehead against mine, her giggle
a breeze across my lips. “You’ll never get rid of me again. I’ll marry you so
often, you’ll get sick of me!”
I laughed, seeing stars from the damn pain behind my ribs, but I
couldn’t look away from her. “Try me.”
Kerys grasped my chin, her other hand tucking strands of blood-matted
hair behind my ear while she spoke. “I don’t care how cynical and brutal
you are. I don’t give a damn about what you’ve done in the past, the theft or
the murders, and there is no evil you could commit in the future that would
make me care less about you. You’re my other half, Skrain. I promise from
now until eternity, until my soul ceases to exist, I’ll love you—thorns and
all.”
My strength left me, and I fell onto my aching side, grinning at the
dusky twilight sky.
It had taken a Gods damned century to get my wife back, to hold her
again, make her want me again.
But tomorrow, when the rising, golden sun turned the sands pink and
purple and orange, we’d start over. We had a life to live, a house to fill with
laughter, new memories to make.
And somehow, deep inside that thorny heart of mine, I knew our second
chance would be even sweeter than the first.
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 Thank you so much for reading!
Please consider leaving a review—one sentence is already enough. Reviews
allow my stories to get discovered by readers and truly help me out a lot.
If you’re craving more of my spicy dark fantasy universe and morally black
villain romance, check out my other books… all available in KU and as
ebook or paperback.
Cyran XO
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 Standalone Dark Romance
The Pale Daughter & The Tyrant Prince
The House Of Grief
Love Like Gilded Bones

Standalone Dark Romance Erotic Novelettes

Captured By The Cruel Snake Goddess
Taken By The Evil Slime Lord

Dark Romance Series

The Unbeating Heart
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C
yran [ˈsɪ-ræn] Faringray is a queer, chronically ill author of deeply emotional, darkly romantic
novels with morally black villains as love interests. Their stories feature magic, monsters and
everything in between.
The goal of their writing has always been to blur the lines between repulsion and attraction. To
tiptoe the border between romance and ruin, to write true villains and terrible monsters doing
monstrously arousing things.
Though redemption arcs won’t ever be found in their books, all endings are happy ones.
When they’re not writing, Cyran is usually playing video games, reading, napping, or spending
time with their partner and their little dog. Their adoration for anything macabre—and erotic—runs
deep and is mirrored in their ever-growing collection of art prints.

You can find Cyran here:

Website: www.cyranfaringray.com
Instagram: @cyranfaringray
TikTok: @cyranfaringray
Twitter: @cyranfaringray

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First of all, to my readers:
Thank you for spending time between the pages of my novel. Every single
one of you means the world to me, and I’m so grateful for every word read,
every comment, every review, and every message. You folks keep me going!
Love you XO
To my Patrons:
Thank you to my wonderful Patreon members (in no particular order):
Kiristen, Loni, Torrence, Britt, Nicky, NACooper, Val, Bela, Mary, Benjamin,
Kate, Lilli, Lily, Diana, Alicia, Ian, Siobhan, btbarbie93, Jordanna, Lexie,
Marya, Katie, Emily, Kate aka Reina, and Catherine. Your generous support
made this book possible! My heart belongs to you XO
To my mum:
Thank you for always believing in me.
To my partner:
Thank you for letting me ramble crazy about the silly characters inside my
head.
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Impressum:
Sarah R. Flach
c/o Autorenimpressum Gwendolyn Wynter
An der Alten Burg 5
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Mühltal
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