Page 114 of Deadmen's Queen

He nodded at the final painting. “Because she knows who she is now, and she knows her worth.”

I looked up at the beautiful woman, dancing freely with the figures of death around her and I smiled.

“I think you might be right, Tris.”

***

The night continued in a blur of champagne, art and Paige’s blinding smiles as her life began to take off in a way she could have never imagined. I’d like to have claimed that some of it was due to the efforts of the Deadmen's Club, and indeed, if she’d had no luck tonight, I’d been fully prepared to pull strings. I hadn’t needed it though. The talent shone out of her work, capturing the hearts and minds of everyone who looked, bringing some to tears. The emotion in her work was pure genius, showing the tortured soul that had finally found her freedom. When the event was finally over, she leaned against me, a little tired but looking so incredibly happy that it made my chest feel like it was going to burst with joy for her.

I guided her outside to the limo, knowing Nate and Tristan were already waiting there for us.

“I'm so happy, Bast,” she said. “I’ve got my choice of galleries and they want more work from me, and that critic from the Times wants to write a review, and oh… could life get any better than this?”

“Yes,” I told her. “And I intend to make sure it does. I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy, Paige.”

She looked up at me, her blue eyes sparkling and I bent down and kissed her.

“But now, I hope you’re not too tired. We have somewhere important to be.”

She wrinkled her brow in confusion, but didn’t ask any questions, simply getting into the car, and I loved that she trusted me so completely. The journey was quiet, an easy silence, as we skirted the university campus, travelling deeper into the woods. As the folly came into sight, Paige's eyes widened and she looked at me, but instead of the fear I’d dreaded, all I saw was excitement.

“It's the final ritual night for the Deadmen’s Club,” I explained.

“What do I have to do tonight?” she asked.

I smiled as I helped her out of the car. “That’s entirely up to you, my beautiful Queen.”

Chapter Forty

PAIGE

The music played, eerie and dark, and I could feel all eyes on me as I walked between the tables. My heart drummed a fierce rhythm, but my face was an impassive mask, revealing nothing of the tempest inside.

The air was thick with the scent of roasted meat and spilled wine. The sounds of clinking goblets and low chuckles filled the space, a sinister symphony to accompany my march towards the dark carved thrones that stood on the dais, sentinels of power that promised control, dominion and erotic darkness. Once I had entered this hall, gagged and bound, taken against my will. Shamed and humiliated, tortured and pleasured for others’ enjoyment. Tonight, I walked through the Reapers with my head held high. I ascended the black marble steps, each step a declaration. I was Paige Matthews, and though I had once painted gardens of vibrant hues, now I found beauty and roses in the darkness. Tonight, I had come to claim what was mine.

“Hail, Persephone,” a voice like velvet wrapped in steel greeted me. It came from the masked figure seated upon the right-hand throne.

“DeathKnight,” I acknowledged, my voice steady. There was no tremor, no hint of the girl who had fled the suffocating grasp of a mother's ambition, or the grip of a madman. That girl was a ghost; I was the spirit risen in her stead, stronger and unbreakable.

“Is this where you belong?” The masked figure on the right spoke, his gravelly voice deep, sending shivers down my spine and between my legs. His question was a challenge, a test of my resolve.

“Here or nowhere,” I declared.

“And who do you belong to?” came the voice from the centre throne.

I stood in front of him, my eyes fixed on the dark eyes in his skull mask. They raked down my body, burning with a heated desire I returned. I’d chosen my outfit to please him. A black lace teddy, with sweeping black lace skirts that fastened at the waist, billowing out behind me as I walked, but parting in the front to reveal the crotchless teddy.

I was supposed to kneel, but I was done submitting.

“I belong to you, Hades,” I said, then continued before he could. “As you belong to me.”

Whispers ran around the hall, but amusement flashed in those dark eyes and I met his gaze with a knowing smile.

“Then take your place, my dark queen,” he commanded, and it was both a coronation and a benediction, as he rose from his throne. I walked up to him, trailing my hand down his black shirt, brushing over his cock in front of everyone, before I turned and sat down. Slowly, I parted my legs, letting the Reapers see my pussy, bare where the teddy ended, and a murmur rose through the crowd. I looked up at Hades, and smiled.

“Kneel, my King.”

He did. In front of the entire hall of Reapers, at my command, Hades, the Lord of the Deadman’s Club, knelt at my command and removed his mask, then leaned forward and began to lick my pussy as I sat on his throne.

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