“That was before I knew you were just the Lord of Assholes in disguise.”
“I wasn’t in disguise. This—” He gestured to his human-like form. “This is me too, how I looked before I became the Lord of this realm. Minus the antlers.”
I shook my head silently, unable to respond for fear I’d start crying. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “I never should have trusted you. It was just one big fat lie.”
“How many times do I have to tell you?” He took another step, then another, until there was no space left between us. The chains draping from his antlers jingled as he canted his head. “Almost everything I said was true—how I want you to be mine, how I think you're stubborn and brilliant and addictively brazen….” He stroked the back of his index finger down the edge of my jaw.
His touch was electric. I wanted to shy away from it and pull him closer all at the same time.
His eyes dropped to my lips then darted up to lock with mine. “How I will protect you, just like I promised I would.”
“How do I know what’s real and what’s not?”
“You’re a living, breathing person in the realm of the dead. It’s like being caught between dreams and real life, not knowing bottom from up. Does it matter if you allow yourself to enjoy the ride?” The mouth of his mask brushed against the shell of my ear, and he dropped his voice to whisper, “Isn’t that what you want? Toenjoyme?”
I swallowed down the rebuttal burning the tip of my tongue, resisting the urge to spit it in his face.
I could deny my attraction to him all day long. He’d still know I was lying. He’d betrayed me, but with the way I grew wetter, hotter, my pulse accelerating as he stalked closer, my stupid, traitorous vagina didn’t give two shits.
“What I want is for you to unchain me,” I snapped.
He paused, contemplation banking in his eyes as he seemed to consider my request. After a beat, he waved his hand, and themagical chain keeping me anchored to his throne flickered and disappeared.
My fingers ghosted over the metal choker around my neck, though it was more accurate to call it what it was—a collar. Yet another mark of his ownership. “Can’t you remove this too?”
“Sorry, little treasure. That’s never coming off.” His drawl was laced with something I couldn’t parse. He closed the last bit of distance between us, forcing me against the wall.
I was trapped, even without the collar. I’d sold my soul to the devil. There was no running from that.
“What does it mean, now that you own my soul? And before you say you own me for the millionth time, I want an actual answer.”
His cold eyes glimmered with amusement. “It means I control you, Rayven. Down to your bone.”
Likely sensing another question on the tip of my tongue, he took a step back. “Allow me to demonstrate?”
“Allow?” I snorted. “Do I have a choice?”
Another tense stretch of silence passed before he answered with a clipped, “No.”
He raised a gloved hand, pointing with his index finger and giving it a whirl in the air.
A small cry was wrenched from my lips as my body jerked toward him, as if pulled by invisible strings.
My ball gown fanned out in all directions as I whirled around and around, my head spinning just as fast.What the hell was happening?
A second later, I stopped abruptly and danced toward Belial, my limbs moving of their own accord—no, ofhisaccord—taking his offered hand and gripping his shoulder.
We danced in the hallway to silence, our rhythmic footsteps echoing off the marble around us, before a simple tune began toplay a few moments later. My eyes landed on a music box with some poor lost soul trapped inside, playing from a nearby table.
We weren’t alone after all.
“Perfect form, My Lord,” a suit of armor said, the soul’s voice echoing from the suit’s dusty helmet.
“What a beautiful couple,” a candelabra added.
Other various knick-knacks and furniture all muttered in agreement.
“I couldn’t agree more.” There was no missing the smile in Belial’s voice as he beamed with admiration, as if he wasn’t forcing me to dance with him.
