If I wasn’t so pissed, I might have been inclined to closely explore exactly how my near-death experience affected him. As it stood, I wanted him to get the hell away from me.
I shoved against his chest again, but the circle of his arms held fast.
“Thank you for saving me, even if your timing was shit,” I said spitefully. “Now let me go.”
His head tilted to the side, the chains on his horns clinking with the movement, and his gaze darkened. When he spoke, his voice was a coarse growl. “Weren’t you just screaming my name?”
I stilled as tantalizing jolts of electricity zipped through me, rocketing to my core.
Fucking Hell. I should have found his stupid one-liners annoying. But his words were dark and twisted, wrapped up in his silk and honey voice.
I wanted him to say it again.
One hand pressed against the small of my back, the other slipping up to grab my throat. His gloved fingers closed in on the sides of my neck, creating a collar with his hand over my other made of iron. He brought his face close enough to mine that I could see the pale skin rimming his eyes and hear his breath behind the mask. My heart skipped a painful beat.
My chest seized as my knees turned to jelly, the desire to reach up and tear his mask off overwhelming. I wanted to see his face, feel his lips. I wanted a peek at the monster beneath the disguise—a glimpse of the man who’d both put my life in danger and saved me all in the same beat.
“Belial,” I stammered, not sure what I planned to say after.
His name in my mouth felt like a lifeline.
Even if I wanted him to throw me down and fuck me into the ground, it didn’t change the fact that the clock was ticking. There was an hourglass in the back of my mind, every grain of sand counting down the seconds until my time was up.
Until my fate was sealed. Until I belonged to the Lord of Bones forever.
I didn’t have time to waste, but I also had burning questions begging to be answered. Like how the hell had Belial found me in the middle of the maze when I’d been stumbling around for what felt like hours?
Had he been following me this whole time? Or had he found me out of sheer luck?
“Do you know the way through the maze?” I asked, staring up breathlessly into his eyes. I was thankful for his hold on me. Otherwise, I might have fallen over at the way he looked at me.
Damn him.
“There are many ways through it,” he mused after a moment of silence, as if he was debating answering me at all.
I huffed out a sigh. “Do you know any of them? Can you take me out of this place? You are the ferryman, right? You must have a boat or something. You kinda owe me after that stunt, don’t you think?”
He stiffened against me, muscles tense, as though I’d asked something offensive, and shook his head. “No. Idon’tthink. You asked me to save you from the quicksand, and I did. I don’t owe you anything.”
Slowly, he let go of my throat. “Even if I wanted to show you the way out, I can’t. My job is to bring souls to this realm, not take them out.”
To my surprise–and dismay–he pushed me out of his lap and rose to his feet.
I followed suit, but he was already stepping away, putting space between us.
“Can’t you help me some other way?” I pressed, unsettled by how wrong the space between us felt. “Take me most of the way there? Halfway?”
Considering I’d been buried alive minutes ago, the white dress wasn’t all that dirty, just wet. Very wet. It clung to my skin, leaving little to the imagination. I didn’t bother trying to cover myself. Belial’s eyes were skimming down my body, his eyes wide with something feral—masculine hunger.
Maybe I could convince him to help me.
“Help me and I’ll help you in return.”
He laughed. “Helpme?If I’m caught helping you, I’ll be demoted to serve one of the Lords of the lower Hells. How will you help me then?”
I propped a hand on my hip. “Would that be so bad? They can’t be worse than the Lord of Bones.”
I didn’t understand the look behind Belial’s eyes. “You know nothing. They’re worse. More than your little human brain could ever comprehend.”
