Page 265 of Rage

“Won’t you bid me goodnight? Or do the dark gods look down on common courtesy.”

Silence encumbered the suite for only a moment before Scarlett felt it, that presence one would miss if they weren’t searching for it.

Josephine stood by the open door, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes all knowing. Scarlett faced her with a strange surge of confidence. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I did.” Josephine lifted a hand, two fingers—index and middle—held before her. A small wave, and the sheer veil came tumbling over the bed, encasing the silken sheets with a curtain of privacy. “Magic.”

“There’s no such thing as magic, Jinn.”

“Of course there is. You just need to know where to look.”

“Then it’s safe to say you can read all my thoughts? Play with small little knick-knacks with your mind?”

“I can only read a person who is close to me. I can only alter what’s mine. And you, Little Dove, compel me. You have since our dance.”

“I suppose I should be flattered. I’ve insulted an Heir, slapped her, and now I’ll sleep in her bed.”

Josephine’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “And you’ll dream of her too.”

“So sure of that?” Scarlett asked.

The Silver Tyrant tilted her head back against the handsome frame and smiled. The gesture caught Scarlett off guard. What bit of bravado she had fluttered like butterfly wings in her stomach. The sight was breathtaking. It lit up Josephine. Made her cheeks bunch up at the highest points of her face and the corner of her eyes crinkle.

The laugh that accompanied it was breathtaking. It put the cathedral bells to shame. And where Scarlett had hoped, had prayed the Second Heir would take a step forward and say to her a plethora of things full of admiration, she instead said, “Goodnight, Ms. Emerson. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Chapter Seven

Winged Dove

The night had grown cold and no matter how heavy the sheets were, Scarlett found herself curled up for warmth. When she awoke, she thought it was morning before realizing the candlelight that bathed her chambers in a sheen of orange too dim to be the sun. And when she moved, the cold mattress made her wince and pull back.

It was ritualistic, it seemed. Every hour, the wax melted a little more and the frigid breeze eased through her suite. But it was only when she finally found a bit of peace that it had been disrupted again. It came like a shadow falling over the partition of her four-poster bed with long, beautiful fingers carefully threading them to one side.

Scarlett sat upright with a gasp, the sheets falling off her like rivulets of water.

Years of paranoia painted her grief with panic. Now, she was staring at the partition, at the way it moved of its own volition. There was no wind, for the doors and the windows were closed. And there was no one else in her room. At least that she could see.

She looked from one painted corner to the other, shadows moving and melding to their own accord.

It was only when she pulled her knees into her chest that it struck.

A set of hands wrenched her by the ankles. Just the shock of it had stilled Scarlett’s scream, that is until she was on her back with Josephine hovering over her.

“Not even a sound?” the Second Heir asked with a tilt of the head. “You really are full of surprises, Little Dove.”

“As if I would’ve given you all that power.” In place of her ire, Scarlett found herself trembling under the woman’s form, her voice muted by desire.

Josephine smiled, tongue trailing over the tips of her sharp teeth. “But you’ll give me something, won’t you?”

With every ounce of strength, Scarlett pushed herself up. It wasn’t enough to overpower Josephine, but she had yielded, allowing the Darling to ease her back against the plush mattress, the cold sheets warming with each passing second. Straddling her hips, Scarlett carefully set a hand against Josephine’s neck. Unsure at first and then, squeezing just there at the base. “I’m sick of men coming to take what they’re due.”

The black of Josephine’s hair haloed out behind her. “You think me as terrible as them?”

“No,” Scarlett whispered, her fingers easing down the trail of Josephine’s unbuttoned dress shirt, feeling the soft of her brown flesh down to the naval. “If you were, you would’ve already taken more than just my dignity.”

The muscles in Josephine’s core tightened as she sat up. With ease, she slung her arm around Scarlett’s waist and turned, pressing her into the sheets around them. It was almost terrifying when the Second Heir took Scarlett’s hand and brought it to her lips, kissing along her fingers with adoration. “I will take only what you ask me to.”

Heat blossomed across Scarlett’s cheeks. “My lips then?”

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