Page 14 of Bride of Death
“Officially? Not quite. But she knows me as Ghost.”
He nods. “Good enough. Keep talking to her.” He turns, dismissing me with that task.
“And say what?” I call after him.
He shrugs. “Up to you.” He glances back at me over his broad shoulder. “But you have one week to convince her to marry me.”
I huff a laugh. “So I’ve been upgraded from babysitter to seducer now?” I mean it as a joke.
However, he simply replies, “Yes,” and begins walking again.
This time I shadow to cut him off at the doorway—an action that has Ossa growling at me from the terrace. I ignore the fiercely protective animal and focus on the beast of a God standing before me. “Give me parameters.”
“No,” he tells me. “No rules.”
“Then I can touch her?” I voice it as a threat, knowing he’ll react to it.
His jaw visibly tightens, just as I expect. “If that’s what it takes, yes.”
I startle at that reply and take a step backward. “What?” It doesn’t escape my notice that I’m now using Sera’s favorite word from Death’s Den, but it’s an appropriate response. “Have you lost your mind?”
He arches a brow. “Are you saying you’re not up to the task, Maliki?” He tilts his head, his expression evaluating. “Her pale skin will flush nicely beneath your touch, yes?”
I narrow my gaze. “You’re fucking with me.” Actually, no, he’spunishingme. I danced around his terminology earlier, so now he’s leaving me to define this game.
“No, I’m asking you to get closer to her,” he corrects me.
“And that means I can fuck her?” I demand, trying to throw him off course and force him to set some sort of boundaries.
But the asshole simply shrugs. “Perhaps eventually.”
Now I know he’s lost the plot. “I had no idea you wanted cause to kill me,my lord.” The title is one I know he hates, it’s how all the fae in this kingdom refer to him. But I only do it when I’m trying to irritate him.
His lips curl. “Nice try, Mal.” The nickname is one he rarely uses for me. “I may not wish to share her, but if it’s the means to acquiring her acquiescence, so be it.”
He tries to step around me.
I don’t let him, instead meeting him move for move. “Then why not call Morpheus?” I ask, aware that my question is a low blow.
Some of Hades’s nonchalance finally cracks. “Because Morpheus has no claim on what’s mine.”
“And I do?” I counter.
“You could,” he tells me, again shocking the shadows out of me. “The notion of watching you touch her does not appall me the way it probably should.”
I snort. “That’s motivational.”
“Would you like me to make it a request, Maliki? To ask you to fuck her for my pleasure?”
I finally step out of his way. “I’m not going to let you make a demonstration out of me at your wedding.”
He runs his gaze over me. “If I were to do that, I promise we would both enjoy it.”
“I crave the death of others, not my own,” I tell him.
His lips curl at the sides. “I’m the God of Death, Maliki. If I kill you in ire, I’ll just bring you back after I’ve calmed down.” With that unhelpful commentary, he vanishes.
A note appears a second later, the lettering resembling Hades’s familiar scrawl.
