Page 77 of Deadmen's Queen

I shattered. The coil snapped, sending waves of intense pleasure crashing through me. A scream ripped from my throat as my world exploded into a series of bright colours and sensations too overwhelming to put into words. My body jerked uncontrollably as I clenched around the whip handle, wave after wave of pleasure radiating from my core. Bast held me up, his arm secured around my waist as I collapsed back against him.

Jeers and whistles echoed around the grove as the rest of the Reapers applauded, their voices a cacophony of excited laughter and vulgar compliments. My chest heaved as I tried to catch my breath, my body still trembling with aftershocks.

Bast pulled out the whip handle slowly, causing me to gasp at the sudden emptiness, turning me around to face him. I leaned against the tree, shaking as Bast leaned in close to kiss me.

His mouth on mine was a brand, searing and unyielding. He tasted like brandy and something darker, more dangerous. When he finally pulled back, his eyes were burning with desire.

“You look stunning,” he murmured, his gaze raking over me appreciatively.

Underneath any other circumstance I would have been mortified at being so exposed, but right now I felt invincible.

Bast turned away from me then to address the others. “Persephone has shown us her strength tonight,” he announced. “She took her punishment and she has earned her place as Queen of the Underworld.”

A cheer erupted through the crowd, and one of the Reapers came forward, carrying something. Bast tugged me up till I was standing, though my legs still shook, and the Reaper held up a sheer black gown.

“Turn,” he ordered and I felt warm at the sound of Tristan’s voice. I did as he said, letting him slip the sleeves up my arms, and then turning back so he could do up the ties on the front. The fabric was soft and silky, and covered more than the white dress had with a dark lace pattern that swirled through it. Tristan moved away, and Bast stepped in front of me. In his hands lay a twisted black crown with crystal and rubies set in it. He lifted it up and placed it on my head gently, before stepping to my side and taking my hand.

“Hail, Persephone. Queen of the Underworld,” he announced.

“Hail to the Queen,” came the shout around the circle and I watched in amazement as every man there dropped to his knees, bowing his head. I looked at Bast in confusion, but he simply smiled, and knelt in front of me, looking up at me. Pride shone from his eyes and my breath caught in my throat.

“Hail, Persephone,” he said with a smile.

Chapter Twenty Eight

PAIGE

The flicker of the TV screen cast a dim glow across the room, and I snuggled closer into Tristan’s chest. It had been three weeks since I had been crowned as Queen of the Underworld and Bast had said that there was only one more ritual night to go, and that was at the end of the school year, so we had a couple of months now to just relax. Although that night had been incredible, I was looking forward to just having the guys to myself before the exams started. The showcase was in three months, and I needed to focus on my work. Bast had set me up a painting station in the dining room, but I’d found working there just meant I was fair game for any of the guys to come along and whisk me up to their bed. Although I thoroughly enjoyed being whisked away, I needed to work, so I had spent a lot more time at the art room, and evenings like this were my reward.

Tristan’s arm was around my shoulders, and his fingers stroked lazily up and down my arm with a gentle caress. I loved how affectionate he was, always finding ways to touch me or kiss me, or pulling me onto his lap, holding me tight. I’d realised how much I’d been starved of love and affection my entire life, and I soaked it up like a sponge, never tiring of feeling his fingers lace through mine. If possible, it had made me fall even deeper in love with him. Nate sat beside us, his hand on my leg. He was never going to be as affectionate as the others, but I knew he loved me deeply, and I didn’t need something from him that he wasn’t comfortable giving.

We’d all talked about what would happen when we graduated, and the guys had all been united in encouraging me to pursue my art career in London, insisting they could easily move there too. I’d been deeply touched by the idea that they would uproot their lives for me, and I’d shed some private happy tears at my insane good luck at finding these incredible men. I didn’t take any moment with them for granted.

I heard Bast snort at the TV, and I glanced over at him in the arm chair. He had his laptop balanced on the arm, and I could see he was searching for properties in London.

“Seriously, who comes up with this stuff?” he asked.

Nate shook his head, staring at the reality show with an amusing curiosity. “Human depravity knows no bounds,” he said.

“Or human stupidity,” I added, feeling the vibrations of Tristan's chest against my cheek as he laughed.

“Same difference,” Tristan murmured into my hair, his breath tickling my scalp.

I shifted to nestle closer, but a sudden stab of pain knifed through my abdomen. My breath hitched, and I sucked in air through clenched teeth, trying to mask it.

“Paige? That's the third time you've done that. What's going on?”

“Nothing, it's nothing,” I muttered, blushing.

“Doesn't look like nothing,” Tristan pressed.

“It is, it’s just period cramps,” I said, my face flushing red.

“Ah shit, that sucks,” Tristan murmured. “Does it really hurt bad?”

I nodded, wincing as another sharp jolt of pain jabbed through my stomach and lower back.

Bast sat up straight, setting the laptop aside. “What do you need?” he asked.

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