Page 92 of Enchanted Kisses
Fumes of cloves dizzied me. I shoved him away with a step back and slipped from the mountain peak. A shrill cry escaped my throat.
Dagan caught my wrist, stopping my fall.
Trembling, I glanced at the clouds below. Glacial winds bit at my face and hands. My teeth chattered and my muscles knotted with pain. I couldn’t breathe.
Dagan hoisted me up and set me on the mountaintop. He rubbed my arms. “You don’t want to do that around here. Hell is but a drop away.”
At that thought, I moved to the other side of him, unable to stop my convulsing. “Wh-why, w-was it s-so c-cold?”
“Hold still.” Silver sparks shot from his fingers as he rubbed my arms faster.
Warmth trailed through my body, clashing with the chill in my bones.
Heat winning the battle, I finally stopped shaking. Exhaustion stole my rage, weighing me down like a heavy blanket.
“You should have let me fall,” I mumbled before I collapsed.
I woke up under a mound of white billowy covers. Peeking over them, my eyes took in the silver room of ice. I sat up, immediately aware that my clothes had been replaced with a white satin nightgown. A matching silk robe lay at the foot of the bed.
I grabbed it as I shuffled to my feet and then hurried to my jeans. They hung over a chair near the fireplace. I dug in the front pockets for my phone before remembering that I’d left it in New Orleans.
Helplessness seized me. I rounded the chair and sat, pulling the jeans onto my lap. My gaze fell on the back pocket where I’d hidden the letter opener. Where was it?
I patted the legs of the jeans for its long form, but it was gone. He’d taken it. Fear stole my breath, followed by a shower of emotions I hadn’t expected—hurt, grief, frustration, denial. They clashed like rough waves inside me. I’d lost everything—Dad, Caiden, Raysa, and now, my last hope for justification. Of course it would play out like this. It was the story of my life.
I drew my legs up, hugged them to my chest, and buried my head.
“Caiden,” I cried, despondent over everything I had done. If Dad were in Hell, I’d never forgive myself.
Tears soaked the silk fabric covering my legs, and my thoughts trailed to his last moments. Was he scared? Did he know what was going on? Did it hurt? Had Dagan told him his daughter was the reason for his death?
The door creaked opened behind me, but I didn’t turn around.
“You’re awake,” Dagan said, his tone soft. Suddenly, his hands were on my shoulders.
I jumped out of the chair. “Don’t touch me! Don’tevertouch me!” I wiped my face on my sleeve, hoping I ruined the fabric. “Where is it?” I held up my jeans.
“Ah, yes. The letter opener you planned to stab me with, I assume. I do admire your courage. I grow to like you more with each encounter. So full of surprises.”
“Funny.” I scowled. “Caiden told me that same thing the other day. First, you steal his girl and now, you steal his lines. I’m surprised you don’t steal his appearance.”
He stiffened, anger sparking in his dark eyes. “You come to my realm, intent on stabbing me with a letter opener, and now you try your hand, or rather, your mouth, at insulting me. My, my, the fire in you reveals itself even more.”
If I were smart, I would shut up. But as a prisoner who had lost everything, I didn’t feel like being smart, or rational, or even alive. What did it matter?
“I don’t know how it works in your father’s realm. Maybe it’s considered a favor when you kill someone’s dad, but in my world, it earns you their hate.”
He sauntered over to the fireplace. “So, you admit you intended to stab me?”
I lifted my chin. “Kill you.”
His head tilted to the side. “Do you even know how to kill a sentry?”
“I know oleander is poisonous to your kind. I was hoping a direct stab to the heart with my mother’s heirloom would do the trick.”
“Then it’s a good thing I found it before you tried. And for the record, I didn’t kill your father.”
“That’s a lie,” I snapped. “You’ve found a way around the truth.”
