Page 10 of My Karmic Destiny

I gaze up into his haunting, ice-blue eyes. “Nah. It’s stalker-sweet.”

He smacks me on the ass. “Stalker, huh?” His lips crash down on mine.

After a few minutes, he breaks away and smirks when he sees I’m properly dizzy with need. “How was your day? For real?”

“Talk about whiplash.” I laugh. “But I’m good. Death seems like he’ll be a decent boss. He reminded me why I was allowed into his ranks because of my innate powers. Then he set me down at a table for me to read all day long. I didn’t even get a lunch break, which sucked because I didn’t even eat breakfast.”

Dante chuckles lightly and brushes his fingers over my cheek. “So that’s why you were wolfing down your food like you were starving?”

I shrug and grab my bathroom caddie so I can brush my teeth and ready myself for bed. “I’m tired. Is it cool if we just crash now?”

“Sure.” He snatches up his caddie and follows me into the bathroom.

When I find the communal space empty, I ask, “Were the guys acting weird tonight or was it just me being tired and overly sensitive?”

“Uh.” Dante avoids my eyes and sticks a loaded toothbrush in his mouth. When I continue to give him an expectant look, he finally spits out the foam and answers me, “They were no weirder than normal. Which isn’t saying much.”

“True.” I’m being paranoid. That mindset used to serve me well. It’s hard to break the habit after living in a constant state of hyper-vigilance my entire life.

Maybe one day I’ll relax and just enjoy the good things that come my way. It’s just that this is the first time I’ve had good things to lose.

I finish brushing my teeth and washing my face. While I apply my moisturizer, I observe Dante. Something seems off.

“Are you sure you’re okay with me working for Death instead of Karma?”

His brows shoot up, and he rushes to my side, cupping my face. “Of course. I’m just happy you’re alive and we’re together. So what if you have a different office to report to? Besides, most couples don’t get to work in the same place.” He places kisses all over my damp face. “And I can send you naughty sexts and pics all day long. Get you worked up for my cock.”

Relief fills me at his reassurance.

“Okay. Not a bad compromise.” I give him a hug, sinking into his warmth, then we head off to bed.

I’m standing in the middle of a cavern. The echoing drops of water surrounding me. Perched on a ledge on a far wall, a giant raven sits, staring at me.

My instincts warn me this is more than a dream.

A tall man steps from the shadows. His skin is pale but shines with an inner power. Everything else about him is pitch black. His entire eyeballs (yes, including his sclera), his long, silky hair, and his clothing. He has large black wings tucked behind broad shoulders. When I search his face, hoping to recognize him, I notice tips of small black wings peeking out from his long dark hair instead of ears. His shirt is loose and breezy looking. His pants are a soft, black leather.

And he’s barefoot, which feels strangely intimate.

“Hello, sweet girl,” he purrs with a voice that sound like it’s designed for coercion.

My own metaphorical feathers are ruffled. I’m nogirl. And I’m definitely not sweet. Therefore, when some random dude calls me that, I know it’s not a compliment. I didn’t particularly like it when Death called me a good girl, but he’s older than time and has the power to vaporize me. So I let it slide.

This guy? I don’t know who he is, but I sense power. I bite back my sassy retort. I’m guessing he could destroy me just as easily as Death could.

“Who are you?” I ask.

“Oh, dear.” He places his hand on his chest as if I wounded him. “I thought you’d recognize me.”

“Sorry. I’m guessing you’re some god?” I shrug.

He sighs as if I’m some petulant brat. If he’s a god, then I suppose I am to him. “I go by many names and labels… as most gods do. Tonight, I’m a messenger of sorts.”

“Okay.” I glance around the empty cavern, wondering what is going on here. I can smell something is not as it seems. He’s downplaying his strength, which seems like an odd behavior for a god. “What’s your message? A threat?”

“A threat?” he says in alarm as if he worries I’ll be offended. “My, no. But I have appeared now to ask you whether you feel that life seems like it’s on the right path.”

“Life in general? Or are you asking for a specific area?” I crinkle my brow.

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