"They made the mistake of lingering outside your door for far too long."
"So you mauled them?"
He's still distracted by my appearance. "Hmm? No, love, they did that to each other. Took only the barest dose of mania on my part. I am sorry you missed the show, though."
So am I. But I have a vendetta against my so-called matches tonight, so I feign disinterest.
"You clearly intend to continue stalking me."
"For the rest of this life and into the Beyond, yes."
For an incubus with a reputation for feeling nothing, he's so melodramatic around me. But the fact that he's here, shamelessly devouring me with his gaze, makes me wonder if his fascination with me was genuine after all.
I mean…hedidtry to keep Silas from healing me, just like I asked. And as far as I know, he hasn't breathed a word to the others about my little reviving-from-death parlor trick.
If Crypt's interest was real?—
No. It's a moot point. All my original reasons for rejecting my quintet still stand, and I have more important things to focus on right now. Such as…
"Where's my dagger?"
I can't lose track of that. First of all, it's my favorite dagger, and I happen to be emotionally attached to it, considering that it was a gift from a once-upon-a-time friend. I even named it—Pierce, for obvious reasons.
But second of all and more importantly, it's made of adamantine, which is only found in the Nether. If someonefound it in the headmaster's office, the Immortal Quintet will put the pieces together and begin looking for thetelumhere at Everbound. That would complicate my attempts to kill them off discreetly.
Crypt tips his head. "Your dagger?"
"The one you pulled out of my chest."
That casts a menacing darkness into his expression. "That wasyourdagger, buried in your heart? Tell me who put it there."
"It doesn't matter. Just tell me where it?—"
"Doesn't matter?"
The Nightmare Prince vanishes for a fraction of a second. When he reappears, he's so near that I press back against the door to put space between us. But that's precisely what Crypt wanted, and he braces his hands on either side of me, so now I'm trapped looking up at him. Although he's careful not to touch me, his face is so close to mine that strands of his messy dark hair tickle my forehead.
His alluring gaze has me pinned in place. "It absolutely fucking matters. You died. Twice. And I was powerless as I watched it happen.Twice," he adds hoarsely. "So make me a promise."
This position, having him so near, smelling that sweet leather scent that's all him—it makes warmth thrum through my veins and turns my mind to mush. I can't stand that he has the ability to fluster me like this, so I fix him with a stony glare, even though my voice is less even than I'd like.
"I will not promise you anything."
His laugh is devilish as he dips his head to lightly kiss the hair beside my temple. I can't feel the contact, but my stomach flips.
"Oh, my dark little darling…yes, you fucking will. Right now."
He's never used this tone with me before. It's treacherous and fierce. I try to shove down the illogical urge to rub mycheek against his. My stupid, confused body isn't reacting to his proximity the way I'm used to.
I feel lightheaded. Restless.
I blame it on the fact that I now know what an orgasm feels like. My body is greedy in all the ways I've never experienced, but I refuse to listen to it.
"Crypt—"
"Promise me that I'll never have to watch you die again."
His voice breaks, and that show of emotion does something unexpected to me. It makes me want to…reassurehim.
