Page 88 of A Realm of Fire and Ash

The king leans back in his throne and sighs as Lorcan shifts uncomfortably. "Our mines are drying up," the king says, and his advisor stiffens. "The sanguimetal ores are becoming rarer and the magical energy they produce is being depleted." He places a hand on his forehead as if to ward off a headache.

I study Lorcan's minuscule reactions to what Ollin says, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out he's not being entirely truthful.

"My Lord, are you feeling alright?" Lorcan leans over his king. "I can have supper brought to your room."

"Perhaps that would be best." The king rises from his throne and pauses to glance my way. "Have food brought to their chamber as well, we won't be having a big meal tonight."

He and Lorcan scurry out of the room, leaving me standing in the center of the grand hall. I look around, taking in the intricately carved walls and glittering chandeliers that adorn this imposing place.

But it's all a façade. And beneath the surface, something sinister is taking place in Romarie. I'm going to get to the bottom of it, and soon.

I return to the room to find Morte soaking in a claw-foot tub, her arms outstretched, and her face tilted up to the ceiling. She's a beautiful sight, her curves framed by the rising steam. I approach without a sound and kneel beside the tub. It kills me to do it, but I've got to get her to let her guard down if my plan is going to work.

"Beauty is a dangerous gift, bestowed upon the lucky few,” I whisper, running my finger along her arm. She starts in surprise, her eyes flashing to mine. “But with you, my dear Morte, it's more than just a gift, it's a weapon.”

“A weapon?” she squeaks, her chest heaving, the swell of her breasts peaking above the water.

“A weapon that can ensnare even the wariest of hearts, leaving them at your mercy. And yet, in your presence, I find myself willingly surrendering to its power. You are a vision of divine grace, a masterpiece crafted by the gods themselves. And in this moment, as I trace the lines of your delicate form, I’m struck by the thought that you are more than just beautiful. You are exquisite, a rare and precious jewel in a world of ordinary stones."

She bursts out laughing, causing ripples in the water. "You're so full of shit, Aggonid. I can't believe you actually thought that would work on me. Nice try though." She swallows, looking more vulnerable than she’s trying to let on.

All the words I speak are true."I may be a villain, but even villains have eyes. And in my eyes, you are the fairest of them all."

"You shouldn't be here," she says, lifting a hand to cover her body instinctively.

I reach out and brush a wet lock of hair away from her face. "It's just us," I say softly. "No one else."

She looks at me for a moment, her face unreadable, before finally sighing and leaning back in the tub. "What do you want?"

I move closer and lean in, so close our lips are almost touching. My heart beats faster as I feel the heat of her skin against mine and hear the labored breath coming from her lips.

"I came to ask you something," I whisper, my gaze never leaving hers.

"What?"

"Can we have a clean slate? Put our past behind us?"

She laughs, and the short bursts of air hit my cheeks. I sit back on my haunches. "You want me to forget how you tortured me, and then killed me?"

I wince. "I'll make it up to you."

"How the fuck do you plan on doing that? Just because I'm a phoenix doesn't mean it doesn't hurt todie, Aggie."

I grit my teeth at the nickname but allow her this small measure of control. "I'm sorry. Let me show you what kind of man I can be," I murmur, gripping her hand in mine.

"And what's that?" She looks at me skeptically.

"A powerful ally, a loyal friend, and someone who gets you," I say, my tone earnest.

"You're insane."

"Probably." I smirk. "A clean slate isn’t easy to come by.” My grip on her hand tightens. "I am the devil, Morte. I do not ask for forgiveness, but I am sorry. I’ve tried to keep away, but I can’t. You are the spark that ignites my desires, the flame that consumes my thoughts. I am the lord of fire and ash, and between you, Caius, and me, no one can stand in our way."

"They literally have nursery rhymes meant to scare children about you," she warns, and it warms my heart to hear it.

Before I can respond, she starts singing it, quite off-key, but it still brings a smile to my face.

Aggonid, Aggonid, in the underworld,

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