Page 49 of The Blood of Gods and Monsters

Euphoria erupts within me as I make him bleed. He hisses and scrapes his fangs up the column of my throat. I don’t even care anymore about the venom that leaves me feeling as if I’ve consumed enough ambrosia to kill a horse. My core squeezes against him, demanding more—more blood, more passion, more pain, and more pleasure.

Until this moment, as fire burns hot behind my closed eyelids, I never knew how much I’d been craving the liberty of his insanity. What this is isn’t sex. It’s not lovemaking. It’s a murder. A death of whatever purity I still had, and together, we slaughter that innocent creature until we’re bathed in her blood and licking it off each other’s bare flesh.

When his climax hits, it’s a lightning bolt through my chest and into my veins. Scalding hot cum spurts into me as Kalix slams me hard against the bed and his snakes. His hand wraps around my neck, holding me captive as he rears up—his fangs dripping with more of that venom. When he pierces my throat one last time as his cock stills in my depths, my whole world comes apart. The venom sinks into my blood, heating it beyond possibility. It becomes one with me until I feel as though I’ll never be cold again.

There is nothing but the fire and release and I let it consume me into oblivion.

Chapter 20

Kiera

Iwake up alone, and for that, I’m grateful. My limbs are shaky and my head feels full of lead. Slowly, I climb out of Kalix’s bed and pause only once my feet have touched the cold floor to look back. The snakes are all gone and I half wonder if I imagined them there—but they had been there before Kalix had bit me and injected his venom into my veins. They must have been there. A shudder works through me. Spiders are one thing. Serpents are another. A large part of me shies away from the memories of what happened between Kalix and me. The act of not thinking of them isn’t difficult considering that those images feel warped as if I’m trying to look at them through the bottom of a jar.

I quickly gather the scraps of my clothes, but when I try to pull them on, I realize that they’re torn beyond repair. With an annoyed huff, I leave them on the floor and go through his wardrobe. Pulling on a pair of smaller trousers that were left in the bottom that are still somewhat too big on me, I grab a dark tunic and haul that on as well.

When I exit his room and peek over the railing, the Darkhavens’ main room is blessedly empty. I hurry down the stairs and to the door. At this point, I don’t care about their reasons for keeping me in their tower. I head down a floor to my old Terra room and steal inside.

Thankfully, my old things haven’t yet been removed. I dig through the small number of items I own and frown when all that’s left is the one dress Regis had forced me to bring when I’d first entered the Academy all those months ago. Holding it up, I glare at it and debate if I’d rather walk around with my trousers falling every few steps or just give in and wear the damn thing.

Being reminded of Regis doesn’t exactly endear me to the fabric, but I release a long slow breath and give in. Stripping out of my stolen clothes, I don the dress. It’s far less elaborate than the ones I’d had to borrow from Maeryn, but I still dislike the feeling of so much fabric around my thighs and legs. Despite the flow of the skirts, it feels more restrictive than breeches.

I sink onto the creaky cot I’d once called my own and drag my hands over my face. My cheeks feel dry and stiff. I reach for my neck, intending to scratch the side only to pull away when dried flecks of blood come off at the scrape of my nails. Standing, I go in hunt of the small mirror I’d kept in my sack and lift it to look at the damage Kalix had done.

Any evidence of Kalix’s bites is gone now though. They had obviously healed over sometime during the night. The only remainder is the darkened flecks of crusted blood. I scratch them off and let them fall where they may.

A taptaptap at the window pauses my actions. Shock rolls through me as I turn my head and spot none other than Regis’ crow outside the window with its clawed feet hooked around the bars and its little beak tapping repeatedly on the glass. Forgoing my task, I move to the window, quickly pulling it open, and retrieving the little scroll tied to the animal's foot. For several moments, I just hold the piece of paper without opening it. If it’s from Regis, then I have half a mind to burn it without reading the contents. He should know, though, that it’s far more dangerous now than ever before to attempt to send me notes.

I’m no longer a Terra in the eyes of the Gods but a newfound Mortal God. They’re watching me and I’m not so naive as to think they don’t have eyes everywhere. I peer around the room and then close my eyes, calling out with my mind.

Almost immediately, a hundred little minds respond—their emotions nearly overpowering in their strength. I flinch and focus on the loudest and brightest one. Ara. I convey my need with a thought and she quickly responds. The other spiders’ minds fade as I pull away and I know that they’ll be watching and keeping an eye out while I deal with this.

Protection in place, I slip my nail beneath the end of the scroll and unravel it. The words scrawled on the parchment are short. One line.

Can we meet? — R

Fresh anger burns hot within me. I close my eyes as I crumple the paper in my fist. What would be the point? I know who his loyalty lies with now, and though it should not have surprised me—I admit that it did. It had hurt far worse than all the torture Ophelia had heaped upon me at a young age.

Not stopping to think of my actions, I move to the candle sitting on the nightstand and light it. Holding the parchment over the flame, I watch as it eats away at the paper until there is nothing left but ash falling from my smudged fingertips. Then I blow out the flame and wave the crow away, shutting the window without writing anything back.

Even if it weren’t far more dangerous now than before, I don’t think I’d be willing to meet with Regis. He was part of my life in the Underworld and that life is over now. The brimstone is gone and I’ve been released from my contract. There is nothing left for me in the past. So, there is no use dwelling on it.

Still, I watch as Regis’ crow flaps its wings outside of the tower window a few times before it turns away and flutters off. I’m sure I confused the animal with my actions, but that’s no longer my problem. My problem is finding a way to survive this new chapter of my life—in the Mortal Gods Academy.

I turn back to my things and start to pack them into my satchel, intending to bring them to the Darkhavens’ quarters. I’m mostly done when I spot the old volume that Caedmon had gifted me back when I thought he knew nothing of my heritage. Ice fills me, erasing whatever heat had been poured into my veins the night before as I realize the title has changed again. The stitching has been reworked into new words. Lifting it in my hand, I drift a palm over the front.

To Those Who Have Been Stolen

I frown down at the words, but because I can’t seem to help myself, I flip the book open once more and watch in fascination as words begin to form.

Demetria Gyllmare

Atticus Varlane

Philomena Deveras

Cecil Marr

Seline Xarxis

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