Page 27 of Mortal Desires

At another table, a man took a maid’s breast from her dress. As she poured them wine, he and his friend from the left played with her nipples while she bent over.

“Who are you to judge?” Vicious rasped beside me, taking my attention from the bacchanal starting before our very eyes.

“I’m not judging,” I replied rather prissily.

He snorted. “I’ve met many like you before, little witch.”

“And how am I?”

He turned to me, narrowing his eyes. “It’s my lord or dear husband.”

I laughed and shook my head. He was ridiculous if he thought I’d call him that.

But when I opened my mouth, the words squeezed out. “Dear husband.”

I gasped, my hand reaching for my neck, feeling surprised that words I never intended to say escaped from between my lips. The thing beside me said nothing, which spoke volumes to his guilt.

“Seven days of obedience,” I croaked.

Vicious nodded, not looking at me. A maid approached, her bow so pronounced she practically scuffed her nose on the floor before she served Vicious his wine. I shook my head. I couldn’t imagine drinking anything right now.

“Vicious,” I demanded once he sipped from his wine but said nothing.

“Ask what you want, but with respect,” he replied.

Words failed me once and then again. I thought of them and formed them but they never really became sounds.

I closed my eyes, holding my tears back and only opening them when I heard him chuckling.

“Is it that difficult to be respectful?”

I flashed him a look. He shook his head and ignored me.

“Why do I feel compelled to fulfill your wishes, dear husband?”

Vicious nodded slowly approving of my wording. “You are under a spell to obey for seven days until the next ritual to seal our marriage.” He spared me a glance. “I warned you it would be longer than you suspected.”

I swallowed the curses I wanted to spill, knowing they couldn’t come out anyway.

“Why am I the only one under the spell? Surely the underworld is not that sexist?”

He turned to me again, a rare smile on his cruel lips. “Sarcasm is allowed apparently.”

“Good for me.”

He huffed. “It’s not about a female obeying a male. It’s about you becoming part of the underworld and obeying your god.”

I turned from him, annoyed that I couldn’t laugh in his face for even thinking he was my god. Instead, I faced the royals again, watching as they ate, drank, and fucked for everyone to see.

“Who are they?” I finally asked. “Why are they more special than the rest of the mortals?”

“Supernaturals.”

My eyebrows rose. “Any witches?”

“Most of them. None as powerful as your sisters.”

He didn’t need the smug expression on his face. I understood the dig just fine.

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