Page 32 of A Reign of Storm and Madness

Dolos wants me to arrive at the Day of Descendance party with a symbol of my submission not just to the Darkhavens, but to the Gods, themselves.

Chapter 19

Kiera

Istare at the dress—if it can even be called that—as it sits on my frame reflected in the tall standing mirror that had been brought in after the younger Terra had finished her duties. My fingertips feel ice cold as I trace the low neckline. I’ve been washed and primped and plucked like a damn chicken for dinner. My hair has been unraveled from its braid and rolls down my back and over my shoulders in long thick waves, curling at the ends.

The Terra that had been in the Darkhavens’ chambers this morning have long since disappeared now that their jobs are done. My lips twist as I turn and a flash of long thigh appears as the sheer fabric splits all the way up over my hip practically to my waist. The only thing keeping the fabric from opening completely to reveal my intimate areas are the golden chains attached to either side.

The dress, itself, wouldn’t be so damn offensive if it wasn’t ostentatiously sexual. There’s nowhere for me to hide any weapons. Reaching down, I finger the edge of one side, scowling at the shimmery light fabric. It’s pretty, but the lack of appropriate coverage to hide a dagger or two leaves me feeling vulnerable. The collar encircling my neck is the worst part. It makes me feel like I’m choking despite its weightlessness.

Whatever metal it’s made of, it must be painted. Real gold could never be this light. My fingers trail to where the metal arches up my throat on all sides, tied together at my nape by glimmering yellow stones that blend into the scale-like exterior. And as if the collar isn’t enough to strangle me, there are matching forearm adornments in that same scale-like style starting from my wrists and moving up to just below my elbows.

It’s half armor, half chains. All of it a reminder of my place.

I want to rip it off and throw it into the fire blazing in the hearth a few feet away. As if the sheer fabric wasn’t enough to make me homicidal, the straps I’d used to bind my breasts beneath my tunics are gone, stolen away by the earlier Terra.

The only thing keeping me from complete and utter nakedness beneath the transparent cloth of the dress are the golden cups that dangle from the collar beneath the fabric and wrap around my back with the thinnest of chains. One wrong or too fast movement and it might snap. The matching golden thong on my lower half does nothing to curb my need for violence or make me feel the least bit covered.

I turn back around, lifting the long strands of my hair and pulling them forward as I examine my back. The markings of my lashes are still there—healing slower than I thought they would, but closed and now little more than white lines against my spine. In another few short weeks, they’ll be completely gone. I pray that there will be no more surprises like this because should the Gods or the Darkhavens see that I haven't been scarred from that punishment, there will be questions that I can’t answer.

“Wow. You look…”

Whirling around at the sound of Theos’ breathless voice, I reach up, half intent on covering myself with my hands, but … what would the point be? I’m about to walk out of these chambers the second the sun sets and follow the Darkhavens to whatever fucked-up party the Gods have decided to throw for themselves. I’ll be open and vulnerable and very much on display for every person in the Academy to see.

I let my hands fall away and scowl—uncaring of how rude it is. “I look like a whore for the Gods,” I snap.

Gilded eyes lock on to my body, traveling down over my longer than average legs and rounded thighs to the sandals that protect my feet from the floor. His perusal doesn’t stop there, but instead slowly glides back up the length of my calves and then my belly, pausing at the place just below it. My pussy is barely covered by the scrap of gold satin that’s the same damn color as Theos’ gaze.

A hollowness sucks out of my stomach, emptying it completely as he finally drags his attention away from that place and up my breasts to stop at my throat. A dark shadow passes over his expression before he, at last, meets my wrathful eyes.

“I know you may hate being forced to wear this, but you do look beautiful, Dea.” The raw note of his voice strikes me deep. My mouth dries up. Theos’ eyes can’t seem to stop poring over me. The subtle way he shifts and reaches down to adjust himself in his pants should be disturbing.

It’s not.

I’m still furious. My veins are full of the acerbic inferno of that emotion, but his words somehow manage to slip past my defenses anyway. As if he has a secret pathway only he knows to circumvent my rage. My shoulders slowly come down and I blow out a breath, a strand of my washed and curled hair fluttering away from my face as I do so.

“He’s doing this on purpose,” I say quietly. This is another punishment from Dolos. It has to be. One might think this is an ironic punishment for what I’d done with Theos, but Dolos doesn’t care that I fucked him.

No one at the Academy does aside from Theos and his brothers and, maybe, me. Many Terra bend for their masters. My crime hadn’t been doing the same, but in my actions that disregarded the rules of the Academy—entering courtyards where humans are banned and acting disrespectfully to those they deem superior to me.

Theos closes his eyes briefly and when he reopens them, the heavy arousal in them has been dampened. “Yes,” he agrees. “He probably is. If it makes you feel any better, though, you won’t be the only one dressed so…” he winces as his attention falls back to what can only be considered a sorry excuse for clothing, “lasciviously.”

“There will be others dressed like this?” I gesture down to my attire as if he hadn’t just spent the last several minutes eye-fucking me.

“That outfit is actually fairly tame in comparison to some of the outfits I’ve seen at these events,” Theos admits. “The punishment is requiring you to attend. Most Terra have tonight off and only favorites are required to attend.”

As shocked as I am by his words, I have no time to respond as the door behind the reading table opens and Ruen strides out. His hand covers one of the glinting silver cufflinks shaped like a miniature wolf’s head at his wrist, adjusting it as he moves. When he stops and raises his head, his gaze falls to me and all the casual ease Theos’ presence brings evaporates. Red hot flames lick up my bare spine as the color in those deep oceanic eyes of his ripples with awareness.

My throat closes, but still, I try to breathe, breasts heaving with the effort. The vein in his jaw bulges to life, throbbing in time with my rapidly increasing heartbeat. Once again, I don’t cover myself from his view. Unlike Theos, however, Ruen’s eyes don't fall any further than the collar encircling my throat.

Dark blue and purple wisps appear at the edges of his hair as if his power is leaking out of him and he can’t control its urges. The heat expands, trapped inside my body, as it swims through me, searching for somewhere to end its journey.

Theos glances between us, his brow puckering as he senses a change in the air. It isn’t difficult to recognize. The tension is like a living current of lightning flowing between us.

“Ruen?”

At the sound of his name, Ruen shakes his head and sucks in a deep breath. As if his own breathing finally kickstarts my own, my throat reopens and air starts to flow again. Ruen turns away from me, practically turning his back to me as he glances up the stairs where the door to the third and final Darkhaven brother’s room remains closed.

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