Page 99 of Of Spindles and Nightfall
He did owe her. Who was he to deny her last request? She’d die protecting the one he truly cared for, and they both knew it. Not to mention, if he kissed her here, and made it look convincing, perhaps he might prevent suspicion of where his true feelings lie.
He lowered his sword and stepped toward her.
Their bodies had entwined in brief instances of comfort, but tonight, everything was different. Tonight, the end drew near, and nothing between them could ever be sufficient to change that. They both knew the truth. Slowly, he leaned down, his lips meeting hers in a kiss that was tender, yet devoid of the passion that had once defined their encounters. A farewell kiss, quiet and slow, carried the burdenof their unsaid words. Her hands rested gently against his chest, not demanding, just present, as if to hold on to something for her last moments.
Then she reached up and unbuttoned his armor, yanking it back until it fell off his shoulder.
Revealing his mark.
“Zarathos is Bloodbound with his kalator,” Vivane shrieked. “The mark is on her right thigh. He has her under a bargain.”
Shit.Shit. He recoiled, pulling his blade across her throat, his heart pounding. Crimson poured from her and her eyes went glassy as she pitched into the dirt. Her body twitched once or twice before coming to rest. He watched, both sorry and desperate at the same time. He looked around. Who had heard? Who believed?
He forced a laugh, though it was a bit too high. “Absurd. A frantic ploy to ruin me. This is merely a tattoo.” He tried not to appear too quick to cover it up, buttoning his armor.
Xaphoron stood not far away, a dead body at his feet. He tossed his sword to Balafur who caught it with one hand.
“A Bloodbond, Zarathos?” Balafur finished off his sacrifice as if they were strangers. A cruel glint came to his eyes. “To the vampire princess, no less?”
“You are a brainless idiot if you believe the desperate lies of a dead woman.” He attempted to seem unfazed, even as he watched the evil grin spreading across Balafur’s lips. Zarathos’s grip on his sword tightened. This demon deserved the edge of his blade far more than Vivane.
The others had already dispatched their person and were in a brawl over the crown. Tigon roared, pushed most of them out of the way with a powerful sweep of his massive fist. But the fight rebounded quickly. It was anybody’s game.
Balafur’s gaze swung to the mounds, and Zarathos spun in time to see Aryana and a couple of others push up from the dirt.
Had they actually buried them alive?
“Shall we discover the truth?” Balafur spread his wings and glided across the arena toward the mounds.
“No,” Zarathos growled and took off after him.
Balafur arrived right next to Aryana. She was half submerged in her mound. He reached down, clamped his fist around her throat and yanked her upward as if she was no more than a daisy.
Zarathos landed, his wings spread, a rage spearing through his veins. “Drop her.”
Balafur held her by the throat. Any second, he could squeeze his fist and crush her, or swipe his claws over her throat, and Zarathos’s vampress would be gone. The piercing coldness of his Bloodbound mark lodged into his bones.
Balafur’s grip tightened and she struggled, thrashing in his grasp. “Not until we have answers.” He had a manic gleam in his eyes.
If Zarathos made the wrong move, he’d get Aryana killed.
Balafur sliced his sword across her right thigh, cutting through the bandage hiding her Bloodbound mark.
Zarathos flinched as Aryana opened her mouth as if to cry out, pain reflected in her eyes. He’d shred Balafur, he’d pin his wings to the ceiling and watch him die a slow death. “I said drop her!”
Balafur used the sword to draw back the wrapping, revealing the serpents twining together on her leg. “Would you look at that? Looks an awful lot like yours, Your Majesty.”
Zarathos snarled, his fist trembling on his sword. “You will watch as I kill everyone that you love if you don’t set her down this instant.” His instincts cried to reach out to the shadows, and he felt their presence in the back of his mind. But that wasn’t an option. According to the contract he signed, if he used his powers, he’d die. Then Aryana would die too.
A nasty look came across Balafur’s face. “Like I have anyone left. That was the deal for coming here and facing off againstyou. Didn’t you know, arch king? For those of us that you didn’t get to with your bargains. Why should you be any different? And with a fucking vampire, no less.” He brought his sword up.
A fear unlike any Zarathos had ever known pierced him.
Aryana swung up with her good leg, wrapping it around Balafur’s arm and twisting. A loud sickening snap sounded, and Balafur let out a roar of pain.
And Zarathosmoved, ramming his sword through the demon’s chest so hard that the point came through on the other side. He pulled the blade out, the rage within him forcing him to yank the sword free and stab him a second time. And a third.
Balafur dropped Aryana. He plummeted to the ground.
