No.I couldn’t let this monster crawl under my skin like he was.
He’d fucking kidnapped me.
Collared me.
He’d threatened me, manhandled me, invaded my mind.
And I couldn’t forget his worst crime.
He’d murdered Mark. Sure, I never loved him. But he didn’t deserve to die in the way he had.
“How much time do I have?”
“Three days.”
A second after my hope shot through the roof, it came plummeting down again. I turned my gaze back out the window to the sprawling labyrinth below. “That’s not enough time.”
“That’s all you get.”
I flung my glare up at the leering skull, my eyes stark with rage. He held my arm so tightly, it felt like it might snap at any second, but I refused to let the pain show.
“At least give me some decent clothes.” I was still wearing nothing but the tissue-thin nightgown. “You can’t expect me to wander around your creepy garden without underwear or even shoes.”
I winced as he jerked my arm, pulling me up so my toes barely touched the ground. The snout of his skull was a kiss away from my lips, his hot breath washing over my flesh. “You’re lucky I don’t tear this gown off you and make you traipse through the mud and bramble naked.”
Angry tears made my vision swim. “I fucking hate you.”
“Yet your mortal cunt still weeps for me.” He pointed to the floor and I followed his gesture to see a small puddle between my legs.
It wasn’t piss—I probably would have been less mortified if it was. Wetting myself out of fear in this scenario would have made sense. No one would blame me. But it wasn’t urine. It was my arousal. I’d always been extra wet, to the point where I usually made a habit of carrying an extra pair of panties with me wherever I went. Mark had poked fun at me because of it.
This was a lot, even for me. Too much to pass off as natural lubrication.
“That means nothing,” I seethed. “My body, it…” My voice trailed off.
It betrayed me.
“So how about it, little thief? Do we have a deal? You have three days to escape. If you fail, you become mine. Forever.”
A tumultuous storm of emotions tore through me. What choice did I have? Making a deal with the devil was going to come back to bite me on my wax-coated ass. But bargaining with the King of Limbo for a slim chance at freedom was infinitely less stupid than agreeing to be his sex slave.
“We have a deal. So what? Do we shake on it? Or do I sign some flaming contract?”
He slowly shook his head, his fingers unfurling from my arm. “No. Not for you. You will get on your knees.”
My thighs clenched, sticky with sweat and arousal. “What? I’m not doing that.”
The Lord of Bones turned to leave. “Have it your way. I will summon Holga to chain you back up. You can warm my ferryman’s bed until I decide to claim you as mine.”
I flinched at his words. Why did I feel so betrayed? This really was about tormenting me. If he truly cared about me, he wouldn’t be so casual about throwing me to another demon.
The pain sweeping through me didn’t make any damn sense at all. Why was I surprised? Why did I care?
I didn’t want his love or his obsession. I needed to get the fuck out of here.
My hand snapped out, snatching a fistful of his cloak. “Wait…”
He paused and slowly lumbered around to face me once again, waiting expectantly.
