Page 5 of Stolen By the Reaper

“So that’s it?” Indignation swirled through her scent and those angry splotches returned to her cheeks. “That’s all my life amounts to? I barely lived, and now I’m just somethingfor monsters to fight over?”

Her chest heaved with every breath. There would be no afterlife for her. The tiny line of blood on her throat saw to that even before I hauled her into my arms. Clauneck’s blood mingled with hers.

She belonged to the underworld.

She belonged tome.

“You are so much more than that,” I murmured. She trembled as I stepped closer, my body mere inches from hers. The pulse at her throat drummed, drawing my gaze to the crimson streak left by those bastards. “More than currency to pay for their fortunes. More than an offering to buy their good looks.”

I twisted the illusion around us, and my lush tropical scene shifted to a cliff jutting out over the ocean. Waves crashed far below, spitting sea spray high into the air.

Another shift, and our cliff turned to the top of a mountain. The moon rose in a single beat of her heart; her next blink carried the sun overhead. High-rises. Tranquil lakes. A forest, branches heavy with thick snow.

“Tell me what you truly desire,” I crooned, my fingers feather-light on her bare arm.

She shook her head, taking a step back. “What—how are you doing that?”

“What about your revenge, little dove?” I dragged my finger up and up her silky skin, ending with a stroke of my knuckle beneath her chin. “They sealed your fate. Don’t you want to make them pay?”

I licked a drop of juice from my finger and held out the rest of the pomegranate. The illusion shifted to the garden where I’d found her, and the color drained from her cheeks.

The altar where they’d held her down lay in shattered ruins. Clauneck’s servants writhed in pain around us, suits as torn as their flesh. Their groans begged for mercy and death both.

She watched, jaw tightening. The specter of vengeance flickered in her eyes.

The scene shifted. A grand ballroom materialized, chandeliers dripping with crystals. But marble columns andpolished floors couldn’t hide the despair of the twin women trapped in birdcages.

“See what they would have done to you?” I whispered against the shell of her ear, my lips brushing the sensitive skin. “What they’ve done to so many before?”

“Stop it.” Her voice trembled at first, then grew stronger. “Stop toying with me.”

Reality shifted again. Again. Again. Blondes. Redheads. Brown hair, blue eyes. Every size and color, united by betrayal and equally taunted by demons when their master grew bored and turned a blind eye.

“I said stop!” She planted her hands on my chest and shoved as hard as she could.

I chuckled as I staggered back. A flick of my wrist banished the visions, and I fell back onto the chaise with a fresh pomegranate in my hand. I took a bite as her bottomless eyes burned me with a fiery glare.

Darkest hells, that spark of fire ignited something in my blood. The glyphs on my skin buzzed. My gums ached with the press of fangs.

I took a breath, but it did nothing to cool the need raging in my bones. The compulsion to touch her, taste her, sink my fangs into her flesh and claim that intoxicating little dove as my own.

Not that simple, of course. Not yet. My claim wouldn’t stick until I got rid of Clauneck’s taint on her.

An impossible task. Bound offerings like her only found their final peace with their master’s will or if the demonic fucker met his true death. The former required she pay with unspeakable torments I wouldn’t allow, while the latter needed an adversary previously blooded by the demon.

What misfortune to have such a lovely, marked creature loose in the underworld and in my grasp.

With a snap of my fingers, another chaise materialized beside me.

“Come, sit with me.” I waved an inviting hand, summoning her. “Tell me your name.”

“Leave me alone!” she snapped. She clenched and unclenched her fists, but didn’t back away. Those red splotches flushed back into her cheeks, darkening into a bloody shade of scarlet. “I didn’t ask for any of this. I don’t want to be here. Just take me home and let me live my life.”

For a moment, neither of us moved. My voice rumbled from deep in my chest. “You are home, little dove.”

Then, with a snap of my fingers, the lush illusions melted away. Leaves dripped to the ground. Birds and insects fell silent. Grass and flowers shriveled to the yellows and browns of death and decay before blowing away in a wind that didn’t touch us.

Until all that remained was the stark reality of my chambers.

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