Page 152 of A Bond in Blood

“It’s the last day of the blood moon,” Olen replied. “That’s the last day of your service.”

I raised my hand, stopping his words. “I’m very aware of that.”

I left the beast in the hall while I followed Adie back to the bedroom. My hate kept its deep root inside of me that the men had known. Had realized I’d spent the day of my birth laying on that rotted floor months ago.

I fisted my hands at the memory.

Of the tears I had shed. The screams I had let out.

Adie pushed open the bedroom door and I walked in, staring at the light of the moon on the bed. It made me hate Ulrich once more. Even though we had found ourselves lost in a hate-fueled fuck on that bed the night before.

Adie cleared her throat.

“The gown, your highness.”

My eyes went to it, and I gasped.

“That mask!” I exclaimed.

“Both hand-picked by his grace,” Adie replied.

I picked it up, my hands trembling while I studied it. It was metal, possibly silver, the fitting over the eyes dainty, simple. But to the sides were bones, skeletal fingers wrapping around the simple bottom layer, barely touching. Designed to encompass the wearer’s face in death.

“I can’t wear this,” I gasped.

“You have to, your highness,” Adie replied. “His grace demands it.”

I turned to the bedroom door, wishing the King would burst through them as he was prone to do. Hoping he would appear, ready for the battle of words I had building in my heart.

I set the mask back on the bed, then picked up the gown. It was beautiful. A shimmering silver with translucent sleeves.

I lifted it and somehow the red of the moon caught the fabric, making it glisten in its light.

“I’m going to look like a corpse,” I whispered.

Adie said nothing while I marveled at the gown in my hands.

I returned to the bed, placing the fabric down gently.

“I guess I’m to be readied then. I wouldn’t want to deny the king the gift I’m expected to be.”

Adie’s eyes widened briefly, then she nodded. “Yes, your highness.”

Olen greeted me at the bedroom door when Adie had finished readying me, having painted me like the omen of death I was now known to be in this court of demons.

The right hand stepped back, his eyes traveling over my body.

“He is going to love this,” he whispered.

I took the man in, admiring his towering figure. The muscles in his chest and the deep V shirt he wore, open slightly to expose his muscles. His skin free from ink, vastly different from Ulrich’s, but beautiful just the same. My hand rose while I laid my palm on his chest, admiring the rich tones of his skin and how it glistened with the light of the moon behind me.

His shoulders flexed and I met his eyes once more.

“Enjoying yourself?” He grinned behind his pitch black, horned mask.

I blushed, casting my eyes down and pulling my hand back to myself.

“There’s a party,” I whispered.

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