Page 55 of The Serpent's Bride
Only the occasional twitch of pain or a hiss through her teeth told him that she felt anything at all.
It kept him in rapt fascination. What a puzzle she was. Whowasthis Monica Valan? His wife? This cowgirl from the outpost farming city? Certainly nothing he had expected.
One thing was quickly becoming very certain, however.
He wasnotgoing to let her die until he had solved this particular mystery. The honeymoon would have to wait until he had his answers. He would unravel her.
Whoever you are, Monica Valan.
You’re mine now.
Nadi’s head was still spinning, and though her concussion was slowly starting to fade, her thoughts remained a jumbled mess.
The doctor had told her she could sleep in four-hour shifts once she got back to her room, as long as someone was around to wake her up and make sure she still knew what day it was. Fun.
Unfortunately, that meant she had to get the bullet pulled with no painkillers. But it wasn’t the first time she’d had that done—and Dr. Williams was better at it than Betty ever was. Betty was a good friend but a shit surgeon. Nadi was pretty certain she had cigarette ash permanently sewn into her leg.
But that was neither here nor there at this point.
The doctor had finished sewing her up and cleaning the wound. That meant she was finally clear to go back to her roomand take a sponge bath to get the dirt, sweat, and blood off her. She felt disgusting. She was exhausted. And her head was still reeling.
And she still had the whole issue of what had happened to deal with.
Raziel hadn’t left her side since she had walked out of that abattoir. And he’d barely taken his eyes off her the entire time. Part of that was probably due to the fact that she was covered in blood, but there was something else going on behind those red eyes of his. Curiosity? No.
It was deeper than that.
But she couldn’t quite put a name to it.
When she went to stand, Raziel tutted and scooped her up in his arms before she could protest. She didn’t struggle and just let out a breath as he walked out of the room with her. “Just…no teeth, please.”
“Only when you’re properly mended.” He smiled with the faintest glint of mischief in his eyes.
“Right.” Grunting, she put her head against his shoulder. Not because she particularly wanted to cuddle with her worst enemy, but because she just really needed something to lean against. “I need a hot bath.”
“I certainly wasn’t going to allow you in my bed in this state.”
That had her lifting her head to look at him in confusion.
“What?” He eyed her in equal bemusement as they climbed the stairs up to what must be his room. “Did you think you were going to still be sleeping downstairs? Now that you’re mywife?”
She blinked. “I didn’t think about it. I guess it was a stupid assumption.”
“Yes.” He chuckled. “It was.”
A moment later and they were at his room. He shifted his grip to open the door, bringing her inside before setting her gently on her feet and shutting it behind her.
The room wasn’t what she had been expecting.
Oh, it was just as expensive and beautiful as she imagined the room of someone with his amount of wealth and means would be. But she had expected somethingostentatious.Something that was humungous and screamed power. Perhaps something even with a giant bed with columns, resplendent with chains and straps hanging from the ceiling.
Instead, what was in front of her was the picture of elegance. It was refined. And while it was dramatic in its shades of black and crimson, it was…comfortable. Cozy. The bed had a heavy velvet blanket on it that spilled off the edges and onto the floor and made her want to burrow into it and never come back out.
The curtains were half drawn, casting the dim morning light of the dawn across the warm oak floor through the haze of the sheer shades underneath, showing off the black lacquered furniture scattered about the room. A large black casket was against the wall, inlaid in brass. She wondered why he had both a bed and a box. But even the coffin seemed tastefully done, and…somehowhomey.
The whole room seemed designed for curling up in front of the fireplace that dominated one wall with a drink in one hand and a book in the other.
Raziel had left her there to take in the space while he opened the door to another room and flicked on a light.
