Page 112 of Cursed Shadows 2

Watching me piece it all together, watching my heart break on my twisting, wet face, Daxeel drops his mask.

His smile splits into a fierce grin that shudders my spine. Teeth made for tearing out throats, he bares himself to me, his true self.

I might faint.

I might scream.

I might run.

But all I manage to do… is whimper.

And in answer, Daxeel advances on me. His eyes darken with each step closer, his smile fades away to nothing—

I flinch as he snatches my jaw in his bloody, gloved hand. The bite of his fingertips cuts into my cheeks.

He angles my grimaced face to meet his.

Gleaming ocean eyes hold my gaze, not with love or obsession, but with a threat—the promise of spilled blood if I look away.

But what he does is worse—much worse.

My face twists with the ache rinsing in my chest.

Daxeel brings his lips to my cheek. Tenderly, he brushes his soft mouth over the trail of tears there. A loving caress, a kiss of threats—and a murmured promise…

“You were right to fear me then. I was wrong to pity you. I will not make that mistake again.”

Stray shadows peel away—and come for me. Little lashes of it flick up the clench of his jaw, then whip out at me.

I feel them like flickers of cold. A whisper of a breath. But something is different about these ones—because in three flicks against me, they have wiped away the tears from my other cheek.

Shivers wrack my body. I think I pee a little, a couple of drops, and I know he smells it.

Daxeel’s lips twitch into a lazy grin, sharp teeth bared at me.

The breath I release is a guttural one, as terrified and hoarse as I stand before him. “You played me.”

Smile intact, it loses none of its viciousness as he bites out at me. A small bite, toying with me, but enough that his sharp teeth nip at my damp lips.

“You lose to yourself at checkers,” he whispers softly over my wounded lips. “So when you entered a chess match with me, did you truly think you stood a fucking chance?”

His gaze is unwavering as he watches me crumble. My whole face twists, my mouth grimaced, and I choke a cry of pure defeat.

Softly, he brushes his smile over my lips, then nips again. “Save your strength for a fight you can actually win.”

Then he’s gone. The shadows, too, as though with those steps back, as he pulled into the crowd, the shadows went with him.

“Nari…” Eamon’s voice is lost in the noise of the crowd. I hardly hear it as little more than a distant echo, but I do feel the support of his arms coming around my middle. “Come on, Nari… Let’s get you to your room.”

Whatever else he says is lost on me.

The crowd, the shouts and cheers, the blood and the corpses—it’s all background noise now.

I live in one moment, in one harrowing realization.

Daxeel played me. He betrayed me.

And I pranced right into his trap.

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