Page 36 of Hallowed Games

I arched an eyebrow. “Surely you don’t want more names from us.”

“No, but you’ll confess your sins to us. Cleanse your soul. It’s what the Pater wants. Anyone who makes it out of the labyrinth will have blood on their hands.”

And we were supposed to feel guilty for killing when they forced us to kill. “And you?” I asked. “Do you have dreams and memories you need to unburden?”

His pale gaze pierced me. “Oh, I have many. And when I’m not committing them, I’m thinking of them. My sins burn in my mind like a fire, Elowen.” His gaze brushed down my body, a light stroke. “Right now, I’m thinking of you, and I should not be.” He stood, sharply pulling down his sleeves. “I have much to regret. But it’s not my role to confess to you, is it?” He waved at his bed. “You take the bed. I’ll sleep here, or not at all.”

I wondered what kept him up all night, scribbling on paper, then lighting it on fire. I pulled off my cloak, letting my hips swing a little as I walked closer to his bed.

I sighed. “I’ll have you know, Maelor, I don’t sleep fully clothed.” This was an absolute lie. I always slept fully clothed, and with gloves. But if I had a little bit of power, I intended to wield it.

I took a few steps away from him and pulled off my black leather doublet. With my back to him, I tossed it on the ground next to a pile of books by his bed. I couldn’t see him, but I could feel his eyes on me, burning like a brand. The air seemed to heat.

I pulled off the leather trousers and my shirt until I stood in nothing but my white undergarments, so thin they were practically sheer. The light undershirt draped over my bare breasts, light and smooth against my skin.

When I cast a look over my shoulder, I found the Raven Lord’s beautiful features etched with desperation, fingers curled into tight fists. His pale eyes seemed to glow in the firelight, and he looked transfixed. As his gaze swept slowly down my body, his eyes darkened.

And that was all the satisfaction I needed to contentedly crawl into his bed and wrap myself in his incense-scented sheets.

Here in Ruefield, I would wring every last ounce of pleasure that I could from the living world before death draped its dark pall over me.

* * *

My eyes opened. Candlelight wavered over the room, a writhing gold that mingled with shadows. I sat up, and the chill of the castle air kissed my bare skin. The scent of sandalwood swept around me.

Maelor sat at his desk by candlelight, frantically writing. The air smelled of burned parchment. He’d taken off his cloak, only wearing the thin white shirt he’d had on beneath it. He’d again rolled up his sleeves, and my gaze slid over his muscled forearms.

He turned back to look at me. A muscle flexed in his jaw, and his pale eyes burned in the dim light. It must have been a very long time since he’d seen a woman’s bare shoulders or the round outline of breasts under a chemise. Besides the bath, how long had it been since a man had seen me naked? With his eyes on me, I felt acutely aware of every inch of my bare skin, and I ached to be touched. Because it had been so, so long since anyone touched me with desire. I loathed the Raven Lord. But I was all twisted up inside, and he was the only one who could touch me. If I pulled the chemise off, I wondered if he would finally snap and break his vows.

“Elowen.” His voice sounded husky as he breathed my name.

I let one of the straps of my undershirt fall, exposing the top of my breast. He unbuttoned his white shirt, and I drank in the sight of his muscled body, sculpted by shadows in the firelight. Godlike.

He moved so swiftly across the room that it made my heart race, slipping through the shadows. Evil incarnate—the forbidden fruit—and I wanted a taste.

My heart hammered as he climbed onto the bed, covering me with his body. He slid his fingers into my hair and pulled my head back. The look he gave me was ravenous, uncontrolled. He was losing the tight grip he kept on himself.

“If you’re going to act like a harlot, I will treat you like one.” Gripping the thin fabric of my chemise, he ripped it off me. The cold castle air raised goosebumps on my skin, and my heart pounded. I shouldn’t want this, but molten heat slid through my body. My pulse raced, breath shallowing.

His scorching gaze brushed down my body. As he palmed my breasts, I ached for him. He leaned down, kissing my neck with wicked strokes of his tongue. I shifted my hips up into him, and he groaned.

With an aggressive tug, he pulled the underwear off me, leaving me naked. My bare skin tingled, and the Raven Lord parted my thighs, devouring me with his gaze.

* * *

I woke from my dream, my body glowing with a few beads of sweat. Desire pulsed in my core. Why did my dreams always end at the worst times?

I clenched my eyes shut, mentally cursing myself. I shouldn’t have been dreaming about him in the first place.

I could torment him, yes. But I would not torment myself—not over a monster like the Raven Lord. I might be an assassin with a disturbingly high body count, but I did have some moral standards.

I slung an arm over my head. The first milky rays of sunlight streamed in through the windows. When I sat up, I was still catching my breath. I glanced down at my top. Fully intact.

Just as he had in my dream, Maelor sat at his desk in his thin white shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbows. He turned to look at me, and I pulled up the blankets, covering my chest.

He heaved a sigh. “Elowen, you must get ready to leave. The trial begins soon.”

Icy dread slid up the back of my neck, and all the heat drained from my body.

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