Page 38 of A Reign of Storm and Madness

How many of them are forced to be here? Forced to play out these twisted fetishes of the Divine? Those who wish for it, those who enjoy it, may have it all they like. I am not one to judge; if anything I am one to be judged for all that I’ve done. The idea, though, of being compelled enough, of having no other choice and no power over their own lives and bodies … perhaps it simply hits too close to home for me.

Reminded of my own circumstances, my fingers itch to touch the back of my neck where the shard of brimstone rests.

Kalix stops abruptly nearly causing me to slam into his back as he whirls around to face me. His eyes are glittering, but the smile on his face has turned tight. “Do not push me away,” he says with careful command. “No matter what I might say to anger you, do not risk your life in this place, Kiera.”

I blink as he uses my name instead of one of his mocking and somewhat insulting nicknames. His fingers tighten on mine hard enough that I wince.

“I understand,” I say quickly and they loosen once more.

“This way.” Kalix begins walking again, but my foot catches on something and I nearly go down to my knees. I’m saved by his arms as he lifts me against him and keeps striding, but instead of carrying me bridal style, he cups his palms beneath my ass. My legs are forced to spread and wind around him, locking on to his hips as we move through the rooms faster now.

My hands clutch at the muscles of his arms as I bounce with each hard step. A grunt releases from me and I feel something decidedly hard prod at that place between my thighs. Leaning slightly back, I arch a brow down at him. Kalix doesn’t even bother to glance at my face.

His is focused forward as he says, “Don’t risk it.”

At that, I drop back against his chest, and even if I’d very much rather stick a dagger in his throat, I carefully lean my head against his shoulder. I close my eyes and hold on, feeling the world whirling around me. Something smokey and spicy lingers in the air. I hadn’t noticed it before because it’d been such a subtle scent, but wherever we’re going, it’s only growing stronger.

My arms feel lax and languid, and soon enough, I’m finding it difficult to hold on as tightly as I once had. My head droops harder against Kalix’s shoulder and I turn my face into his neck. The next time his cock bumps against the front of my underwear, a whimper is knocked out of me.

A wide hand comes up to cup the side of my face, holding me there, against him. “Just a bit further,” he says.

It’s so weird, I think. Why is he being so nice? He is not a nice man. He’s crazy.

Air stops slipping past us and it takes me a few beats to realize that we’ve stopped moving. My eyes open just as Kalix turns and takes a seat on what looks like a backless couch piled high with a bunch of pillows. The room is darker with more golden drapes hanging from the ceiling. Unlike the great hall, though, there aren’t any terrified naked Terra dangling from them.

All around us, I can smell that intoxicating smoke and spice. I hum in the back of my throat as I drift up, pressing my hands flat against Kalix’s chest. A woman’s distorted groan clears my head just enough for me to glance back over my shoulder and spot a couple towards the front of the large room. The same blond-haired Terra that had been at Dolos’ feet earlier lies on her back with a Mortal God between her legs.

She’s stretched out on another of the many luxurious couches all around the room, the only true furniture aside from the various cushions and pillows scattered everywhere. Kalix’s hand slides up my spine, leaving a trail of sizzling heat in its wake.

“Take my coat off, little thief,” he whispers to me.

I turn to him, head buzzing from whatever this scent is doing to me, and find my hands grappling with the lapels of his vest before pulling it off him. Then, before he can make another command, I touch the hem of his tunic with the embroidered snake and jerk that up and over his head. I’m met with a responding satisfied growl.

“We … still have … to talk,” I try to say, my words so quiet I can barely hear them over the roaring in my skull.

“We are talking,” Kalix replies.

“Not … like … oh—” I jolt as his lips touch my chest, just beneath this ridiculous collar.

“I’d love to take this off you,” he says, “and sink my fangs into your pretty little lying neck—but we wouldn’t want Dolos to get too suspicious.”

“He’s not … even…” I’m breathless, fucking breathless and I can’t seem to stop him. Wait. I’m not supposed to stop him. Why did I want to again?

“He’s here,” Kalix says, surmising what I was going to say without my needing to have finished it. “He’s watching. Just because you can’t see him doesn’t mean he doesn’t have eyes and ears everywhere.”

Kalix flips me around and presses his chest against my back as he lifts both of my legs over either of his and widens his stance, forcing my legs to part. I lean back, my chest heaving for air as I try to swim through the soup that has become my thoughts.

A hand moves from my hip up to my breast. I cry out, shocked as my nipple peaks against his palm and he rumbles an approval that vibrates through my whole body.

“Tell me, Kiera,” he whispers against the side of my face. “What is a hidden God child doing sneaking into a Mortal Gods Academy under the guise of being a mortal?”

Despite the strange smoke in the air, hovering over the room and clinging to my nostrils, I stiffen at the question. Ophelia had taught me how to withstand physical pain. She’d beaten and starved me, dunked me in frozen waters, and had burned awful, searing scars into my body—all wounds that had eventually healed even though the memory of the pain had clung to me for days, weeks, years. I’d never been particularly interested in the art of seduction. I’d only ever used it as an excuse to get close to a target, not to get information from them. In this game, I realize, I am wholly unqualified.

Instead of answering Kalix, I ask a question of my own. “Why haven’t you told anyone yet?”

His fingers pluck at my nipple, twisting it between his thumb and forefinger to just the brink of pain. My back arches instinctively, chasing the strange sensations, and a rumble of approval vibrates in his chest. It occurs to me then that this is why he’s so dangerous. Kalix is patient. He doesn’t mind waiting until he gets his target alone and helpless in his grip. He doesn’t have to torture me to get me to break, he just needs to get me to let down my guard.

I gasp as his other hand moves around and frees my other breast, baring me to open air as fingers pluck at my fresh, untouched nipple with exacting movements. My hips roll against him and I shudder as I repress a new whimper.

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