Page 7 of Stolen By the Reaper

I clamped my mouth shut, glaring daggers at him. Useless, surely. He had flames for eyes and could conjure anything he wanted from thin air. I was at his mercy, and we both knew it.

“Come now, surely you can give me that much.” His fingers danced higher, skimming my ribs. “I did save you, after all.”

The reminder doused my anger. Saved me from a marriage to a monster. Saved me from an eternity of torture and agony. He didn’t deserve the entirety of my anger. Not when he could have easily left me on that altar for whatever horror Alain intended.

“Tell me your name,” he murmured. His lips brushed the shell of my ear. “Let me hear it fall from those pretty lips.”

My skin tingled where he trailed higher and higher. My heartbeat quickened as his pointer dragged along the upper edge of my bra. I gritted my teeth and tried to think past the distracting scent of smoke and spice that clung to him.

“Should I call you my captive?” He raised that arrogant eyebrow again. “My prize?”

“Jo,” I whispered, hating how my name gasped out like a confession. “Josephine.”

“Josephine,” he repeated, rolling the syllables on his tongue like fine wine. I shivered at the low rumble in his voice and the slow smile spreading over his face. “Beautiful.”

His grip on my wrists loosened. He dragged his knuckles across my cheek, down my throat, and over the swell of my breasts.

“Now, that wasn’t so difficult, was it?” He nipped at my earlobe, his sharp teeth scraping the sensitive skin. “Such a good girl for me already.”

Fury and indignation flared to life in my chest, burning through the fog of desire that had enveloped me. I shoved at his chest, channeling my outrage into a wordless snarl.

Azrael chuckled, reluctantly releasing me as I scrambled to the edge of the bed. He lounged back with an arm propped under his head, flaming eyes raking over me like a predator assessing its prey. The way he looked at me sent heat coursing through my veins, and I quickly grabbed and pressed my dress to my body.

I almost threw it away immediately. Alain picked that dress. Alain, who intended to use me as some sort of blood sacrifice to the demon who claimed me.

But the choice was between Alain’s dress and betrayal, or standing nearly naked in front of the reaper who stole me away.

“What do you want?” I demanded, stepping into the dress and tugging it up my frame.

“Josephine, Josephine,” he purred. That delighted smile still clung to his face. “I have duties to attend, Josephine.”

“So, go.” I turned my back on those flaming eyes and tried to hide my shiver at the sound of my name on his tongue.

“No, that won’t work at all,” he tsked, and I could practically feel the weight of his stare boring into me. “You will accompany me.”

“Accompany you?” I scoffed. I spun back to face him, hands clenched at my sides. “Why would I do that?”

In a blink, he stood before me. Towering. Dominating. His hand cupped my face, thumb brushing my lower lip. “I know this is difficult for you to accept, Josephine. But the underworld is a dangerous place for a lost soul. You need me.”

I did need him. I hated to admit it, but he had the keys out of the place. I had little hope of sunny salvation outside of thecavern—in the freaking underworld, of all places—but there was no surety without travel.

Azrael stepped back, the same thumb he’d brushed against my lips now tapping against his lips as he surveyed me. A low hum left his throat as he scanned me from head to toe. “Hmm.”

With a snap of his fingers, my dress dissolved into wisps of smoke. I yelped, arms flying up to cover myself, but new fabric was already materializing. Black silk draped from my neck and crossed over my breasts before wrapping around my lower back and spilling down my legs. High slits in the skirt offered glimpses of my bare legs and the killer heels that would break my ankles if I tried to move.

“Much better,” he purred, eyes gleaming.

“Absolutely not!” I hissed. I ran my hands down my sides, trying to make the layers of the flimsy material cover more. “I am perfectly capable of dressing myself.”

Those damnable eye-flames seemed to dance with amusement. Another snap, and a massive wardrobe materialized against the far wall. “As you wish.”

I wobbled on my heels toward the wardrobe, muttering every step of the way. I yanked open the double doors, and let my head fall between my shoulders with a frustrated sigh. “You can’t be serious.”

Corsets, sheer gowns, and scraps of lace that barely qualified as clothing filled every available inch. All black. All sinful.

“You are so easy to unravel,” Azrael said from behind me, smoky chuckle vibrating against my mostly bare back. His hands covered mine as he closed the wardrobe doors. “Try again, little dove.”

Gritting my teeth, I reopened the wardrobe. This time, my own clothes hung neatly inside.

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