Page 51 of Kingdom of the Two Moons

I just look back at him. There’s no point in denying that I’ve been trying to escape.

He casually saunters closer, not once taking his eyes off me. It makes me feel like prey in front of a deadly, sleek predator. Reflexively, I draw back. I meet hard, cold stone pressing into my lower back.

Riven stops halfway to me, his gaze sweeping over me only once before it comes to rest at my neck. A frown enters his face. “Please… don’t. Let’s keep that lovely neck of yours in one piece. He will not be too pleased if you meet such an ignominious end.”

His expression has become serious, the teasing, dark amusement from just a moment ago, wiped off.

“You mean ifhis foodtumbled to its death? Maybe that’s better than what awaits me here.” I can’t help my tone.

A muscle feathers in his jaw and for a moment his eyes lose their shine. “I’m serious,” he adds, dead stern.

“Oh, so am I,” I snap back. However nice he’s been to me, he’s also the one who brought me here. Maybe I’m being reckless because he is also dangerous. Underneath his elegant and well-mannered façade, a different kind of danger radiates from him like a pulse. A quieter kind, but lethal all the more.

A danger that made Lyrian break out in cold sweat. A danger that made Lyrian grovel on his knees with a snip of his fingers.

He cocks his head to the side. “I see. Do you know what we do to slaves who try to escape?” His voice has fallen to a quiet purr, more feline than human, the sound traveling down my body. “No? Nidaw didn’t tell you… she probably should have. But allow me to flesh it out for you. We flay them. Fifteen lashes. Thefirsttime.”

I stare at him, unable to move when he draws closer. He towers over me, as tall as the Dark Lord. My heart skips a beat before it starts to hammer.

“Please don’t tell him.” I’m not too proud to beg. I wouldn’t let myself beg Lyrian for mercy, but I would beg Riven.

“You want me tolieto the Dark Lord.” It’s not a question, but rather a statement. Mocking again. When I don’t answer, his full lips curl into something close to a smile. “You are too adorable. But you already know we can’t lie.”

They can’t lie—so it’s true what Lyrian said at his house. I stash the information for later.Ifthere is a later.

“But you can withhold things, can’t you?” I’m not sure; it’s a stab in the dark. “I’ll give you something for it. Whatever you want,” I add quickly.

“Do you think you possess anything of interest to me?” His words sound pejorative and cruel, and I remember the way the Dark Lord looked at me in that dungeon. Disgusted, yet hungry.

I retreat out of instinct, or at least try to. Again, there’s the balustrade pushing against the small of my back and no escape. Abreeze comes up and I smell him, a beguiling mixture of woods and moss and lilac. He’s so close I can see the black kohl under his eyes, the elegant curl of those absurdly long lashes, a touch of gold dust on his eyelids, on his cheeks, the diamonds and gemstones still dangling from his beautiful arched ears.

He doesn’t at all look like a vampire. Rather like an elven prince, save for the fangs that flash behind his lips when he smiles and the vicious gleam in his eyes. A predator playing with his food.

“My blood, maybe?” I force the words out.What else can he want? What else can I possibly give him?

I close my eyes when he lifts his hand. His fingertips trace the curve of my chin a moment later, the way he did in the woods, before he tilts my head back.

His words shape over my skin, gently, coaxingly, like a lover. “I can’t say I’m not tempted. I’m sure you taste rather... exquisite, Melody.”

At the sound of my name from his lips I open my eyes. His burn like lilac stars. My heart startles again and a flush creeps up my throat, heating my skin.

“But I must decline with this warning. Don’t offer your blood toanyone, ever.”

He pulls back, but his fingertips stay on my cheek. Yet there’s no jolt from his touch, so different from when the Dark Lord touched me. In that dungeon, my skin was electrified everywhere. To a point where it is painful. It rattled me, while this here... it terrifies me in a different way.

“Why?” I make my voice sound cold.

His fingers slide down my skin, brushing over the mark where the Dark Lord’s teeth buried themselves. I freeze at the touch, at the flicker that suddenly flares up at that very spot like a warning.

He says darkly, “Because it might be your death sentence. We are slaves to sanguine hunger and tremendous appetite. Only a few of us can master enough self-control to stop after a few sips. Besides, the Dark Lord most certainly won’t appreciate it if I sucked his property dry. Not when he has already marked you.”

He laughs quietly as he suddenly pulls his hand back, as if all of this is somehow funny. But the humor doesn’t reach his eyes. “But I mean what I said—stay as far away as you can and be vigilant. The same goes for contracts with fae. Never enter into a bargain with a fae. And never make promises.”

I feel a twist in my belly. “Why not?”

“Because such bargains are the reasons mortals are stolen away. They always come with a sting in their tail. And promises will most likely be used against you, since no fae can break them once made.”

“But I’m no fae,” I say carefully, thinking about the promise I made to that siren Nidaw.

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