Page 32 of A Serenade To The Elf Queen
I don’t answer her, letting the silence resume its hold.
“Silka,” Kheirall calls in a seductive croon. “Add knife-play on the list of things to try, should the queen accept our invitation.”
The Baobhan Sith grins with delight at the promise. Only a demon would think of inappropriate things with a dagger lining his throat.
“I was told that you’d given my sister mercy.” I finally exhale low and deep. “What if I bestow you the same honor right now?”
His smile falls.
Kheirall looks as if I had actually stabbed him with the dagger. Every hint of seduction disappears, and something akin to remorse takes over his expression.
“Leave us,” he demands tersely. His eyes flick to Ragnar, a silent order to lead the others away.
“Rhianelle…” Aelfric cautions, dread lining his usually calm features. He would never call my name without honorifics in public.
“Go,” I tell him, fighting the tightness in my throat.
I give a silent look of apology to Garrett, Darstan, and Rainer as they leave me alone with the Demon Lord from Hel.
Chapter 7 Rhianelle
Ican end him here. With just a little more pressure, I can finally kill the person who murdered Aerin.
“This may be twenty years too late, but, my condolences,” he breathes. The words sound sincere, but my dagger stays.
“How was my sister at the end?” I swallow the words, instantly wishing I could withdraw the question.
“My shadows welcomed her. I ended it fairly quick,” the demon admits easily. “And afterwards—”
“They tore her apart…” I already know what happened.
He nods, exhaling slowly. “Desecrating the body of their enemies is the way of the Orkan Tribe. Her bones were divided so she may never rest in peace.”
Swift anger takes hold of me, and I push him against the wall. His blood trickles down the blade.
“Careful, love. I am a Keeper of the Hollow,” he warns. As if that means anything to me. I glare right back, determined not to cower before him.
“The dwarves carved four daggers from her humerus and femur bones,” he continues, his voice rougher than it was moments ago. “Eirik awarded one to King Armand of Darvan,one to Avaloth the new Orc King of Myrkheim, one to Dalton the Castellan of Reírse, and the last one to me.”
The maelstrom of sorrow squeezes my heart. Of course, the cruel Fae King would do that. My eyes sting but I will not give the demon the satisfaction of seeing me cry.
“I sent you mine along with her ring and a scarf from her friend,” he says softly.
What?
I received the signet and scarf…but there was no bone dagger. I must ask Rainer about it later.
I hold his gaze for several moments. My arm rests directly over his chest, and I can feel his heartbeat. It’s raging wildly, almost as thunderous as mine. I loosen a tight breath. The blade grows heavier in my hand until I finally set it down.
Kheirall suddenly leans closer. Something flares in his dark eyes, making them brighter. “Let me show you what happened that day.”
Every drop of blood in my body goes cold. The offer might be a trap, but I find myself nodding desperately. I want to see my sister again. Even if it’s through the eyes of another.
Kheirall’s folded wings reappear, rising behind his shoulder blades. They envelope me until all I can see is him. The proximity is disarming, for me and for him. My fingers accidentally smooth against the thin, delicate membrane and I feel his body tensing.
“This is a peek inside my mind, remember that. You might not like what you see, hear, or feel.” His lips move against my ear, and I shudder.
“Won’t this be dangerous? Opening yourself to me?” I ask earnestly.
