Page 71 of Dance with Death

“Have you found that I’m a kinder master than he is?”

I swallow thickly, my eyes turning toward the unlit fireplace. “You’re no kinder.”

“Don’t lie to me, Anya,” he hisses. “You attempted to take your own life tonight.”

I suck in a sharp breath, turning to face him with the full force of my confidence returning, self-preservation be damned. “He may have driven me to it faster, Nikolai, but you were driving me there all the same.”

There.

I’ve done it.

I’ve brought the devil out of him.

His crossed leg comes down as his face twists to rage. He throws himself across the couch at me and snatches me around the throat before I can protest.

“You had everything you wanted with me. Everything you needed. I even let you keep your fucking pet.”

Incredulity overcomes me and I’m lost to it, neglecting my sensibilities that tell me to succumb, to give in, to submit.

“He’syourpet, Nikolai. Don’t play me for a fool. The dance partners weren’t for me, they were foryou.”

His gray eyes flash with a lightning strike that sets fire to his features, a puff of black smoke sweeping across his irises.

“They were forbothof us, Anya. I was building a life for us, regardless of how you choose to see it.”

He keeps saying my name and I hate it. He acts as though he thinks of me as a person when all I’ve ever been to him is his talent slave.

Hisrabynya.

Hisslave girl.

I choke against his grip as he drags my body down the couch, pulling me beneath him until I’m flat on my back. He pins me there with his hips settled on mine and I cough when he finally loosens his grip on my throat.

His nose touches mine as he bends over me. “I would’ve kept you forever.”

The edges of his voice soften in a way I’ve never heard before. I gasp, flinching at the sound of it, his hot breath dancing across my skin. His eyes spark with the truth of his admission and it’s as though he’s stabbing me in the heart with it.

I take in a deep breath, my chest and belly rising to meet his as I fill my lungs. “But you didn’t keep me. You sold me.”

His eyes flicker to my lips. “Because you betrayed me.”

“You hurt me, tortured me, used me for years, Nikolai. What would you have gotten out of keeping me forever? How long would that forever have been? Every time I looked at you, I hated you more. I hate you now more than ever.”

My eyes burn as I speak my truth openly, no longer fearful of his retribution because it doesn’t matter. He has me for the night, but no punishment he could serve would compare to the torment to come—the torment of waiting for Ezra to save me before my lust for death returns, too overpowering to deny.

“You disgust me,” I tell him, tempted to spit on him, baring my teeth.

His nostrils flare as the corners of his mouth lift into a snarl. I open my mouth to insult him more, but he smothers my words with his open mouth on mine. His kiss crashes down on me so ferociously that it freezes me, still as a statue. His tongue sweeps inside my mouth, seeking mine, and my anger ticks. I slam my hands against his chest and by some miracle, take him off guard. I push hard enough that he topples off the couch and I take the opportunity to rise and flee.

Except, there’s nowhere for me to go.

And I’ve just denied the devil.

I move to the far corner of the room, expecting him to already be upon me before I spin and press my back against it. But he hasn’t chased me. He stands, hovering in front of the couch where he fell, fists clenched at his sides, stance wide and domineering.

“Your punishment,rabynya,” he begins, and I brace myself to hear the worst, “will not involve pain or fear. Your punishment is pleasure.”

What?

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