Page 14 of Empire of Death
“You don’t think I was too aggressive?”
“I’ve shared memories of your father, so you know he would have been as aggressive, if not more. King Ithaca assumed he could manipulate you because of your vulnerable position, but you proved how mistaken he was. I assure you, if I could show this memory to your father, his eyes would mist in pride.”
My eyes dropped at the thought because I’d come to live for his praise. To see my self-worth in the mirrors in his eyes. “I think I feel braver than I actually am because I know you’re there, always watching.”
His eyes remained locked on mine, not blinking as if he expected more words to follow. “Because you know there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.” His hand slid into my hair again, and he cupped my face as he moved into me, kissing me as his body slid on top of mine, pinning me to the mattress underneath. His kiss was hungrier than usual, like he was desperate to have me from our time apart, or because my political dance with King Ithaca had fed his flames rather than doused them.
He pulled off my bottoms without interrupting his kiss, his body already naked beneath the sheets, his hardness pressed against me when he came close. There was little variance in ourconsummation, his body always on top of mine, doing all the work while I lay underneath him. Simple and straightforward, but passionate and fiery, it was lovemaking rather than fucking, something I hadn’t really done with anyone else.
He sank inside me and watched my chest rise with the huge breath I took. One arm pinned my leg back, and he pressed his forehead to mine as he thrust inside me, eyes locked on mine as if there was no such thing as too much eye contact. He could stare at me forever. “Xivin…”
“I don’t want to go.” The sky turned from black to midnight blue, meaning dawn was just two hours away. I should have slept while I’d had the chance, but the opportunity to bed Wrath seemed rarer. With my responsibilities as queen, I knew my time with him had become limited. People would notice if I disappeared without explanation, and because I was Queen of the Southern Isles, it would cause a panic.
He sat up against the headboard, eyes level with mine as I sat on his lap. He was just that big, a living tree with the wisdom of roots that dug so deep into the earth it was as if they had been there since the dawn of time. He stared like he always did, memorizing my face as if it were the last time he would see it.
Sometimes his look reminded me of my father’s, not in the intention, but the intensity. My father wore his love on his sleeve and showed it deep in his gaze. Wrath was the same way, but with a different kind of affection.
“You said…you loved someone before.”
His expression didn’t harden like I’d just intruded in his space. It remained open and vulnerable, like I was the only person in the world who had full access to him. “I did. With all my heart.”
Was I ridiculous for feeling a surge of jealousy? To know that he’d cared for someone before me? Yes. But I still felt it anyway.
“Have you loved someone before,Xivin?”
I’d never told him I loved him. He hadn’t actually said it to me, at least not directly. But it had somehow been communicated irrevocably. I felt it every time we touched. Felt it every time he looked at me. Felt something so intense that it left me breathless every time I was with him. “No.” My eyes dropped, and I severed the connection between our stares. “And now I’m pretty sure I never will.” How would I ever love another man after Wrath? How would I ever be happy when I’d met someone who was everything I’d ever wanted? “I’m not stupid. I know I should leave while I still have some strength in me to walk out the door, but I can’t.”
My eyes remained down on his enormous chest, a behemoth of a man who could easily carry me in a single arm. If someone asked me to describe my fairy-tale man, it would be Wrath, not just in appearance but in soul. A man who said very little but every single word was packed with a punch of intention.
“I asked the Covenant to release me.”
My eyes lifted to his, gripping hope I knew didn’t exist.
He gave a slight shake of his head. “They’ll never let me go,Xivin.”
“Can’t—can’t you just run?”
He shook his head. “That’s not how it works.”
“Then how does it work?” I asked. “Because my father escaped, so you can too.” Maybe if I said it with enough conviction, it would miraculously be true. “There must be a way.”
“The difference between us is, I’m the god of the underworld and he was a mortal servant.”
“What does a mortal servant mean?”
“It means he still had a soul.”
“And…you don’t?”
He stared at me for a while before he answered. “It’s complicated.”
“I want to understand.”
His eyes darted away like he needed a moment to gather his thoughts before he spoke. “My predecessor was an eater. That means he would eat souls to sustain his power. Then he became the god of the underworld and a giant of force. But you can only become an eater if you don’t have a soul yourself. They coerced me into taking his position by threatening to make me an eater, and that is something I refuse to do. I’d rather be abandoned in the void than sustain off someone else’s essence.”
All of this…was disturbing. “The void?”
“It’s nothingness. NeitherXiannorCaelum. It’s where Bahamut went when your father killed him.”
