Page 73 of Immortal Sun

I’m pissed.

She’s being belligerent. The only reason I know she won’t die by my hand tonight is because Kratos sent me a text saying that she was roaming the streets and I owed him a favor.

Clearly a huge one I’ll have to fix later.

Daggon texted next saying Kratos was yelling at her and well now I have her standing in front of me dripping wet, saying she’s going to read a book.

I want to say I’m ready to put her over my knee and smack the shit out of that ass.

Instead, I stare her down.

She looks up at me, defiant.

Even the old ones don’t look at me with that same face as if to say “try me”.

And shit, do I want to.

I grip her by the wrist and tug; she follows without complaint.

We walk down the hall, out of the house, and to the warehouse basement.

The torch.

The key.

Everything.

I almost want her to fight, but she’s too traumatized, I think, to do anything but read The Book of the Dead, touch the slab, and go back into her spot where she’s safe from gods and monsters.

How lovable.

How tragic.

I smile.

And then I shove her against the platform. Her back slams against it. A glare from hell follows as she lifts her chin, her eyes hold mine in an icy stare.

“Rules,” I say, “are very important. Did I not tell you to be careful in this town? To never go out at night? Get hypnotized by the darkness and chaos that follows?”

Her chin lifts even higher. “I was fine.”

“No, you were nearly lost.” I brace my hands on either side of her, gripping the marble beside her hips. “Had Kratos not been there and Daggon, you would have been sucked into the depths of the dark water and it’s chaos, never to be found again, even by me.”

“I thought you were all powerful.” Her grin is so smug I want to pull her hair and kiss her at the same time. “I mean you claim to be Ra, yet you can’t even prevent that? I’m coming to think the entire town is crazy, you included. You’re so deluded by your own myths that you think this is all real. It’s not real!” She screams the last part; a tear falls down her left cheek.

I reach up and touch it with my finger, then bring it to my lips and taste nothing but hope.

Tragic.

“Oh, princess, you want so badly for it to be real it evaporates from the very water that resides in your body.” I shake my head. “Do you want me to show you? Is that what you need? Proof before death?”

“Why do I have to die?”

“Why do you get to live?” I counter quickly.

Her eyes fall.

I grip her hand in mine, then grab the other until we’re both pressed against that damned sacrificial slab. Our palms meet, they kiss, they mate, I can taste the lust in the air and the moisture from her body pulling toward me. Begging me for my flame to suck the oxygen directly from her lips.

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