“My Lord?”
I turned to see a skeletal woman hovering in the doorway. She flinched, catching my scathing expression just before my mask appeared on my face in a burst of glimmering blue magic.
“M-my apologies. I should have announced myself,” she stammered. If she’d had skin, she would have been covered head to toe in a full-bodied blush.
“Yes, you should have.” I smoothed Rayven’s gown back down, pulled the covers up to her chest, and stood. “Whatever it is, it better be worth the interruption, Holga.”
“I brought the dress for Miss Rayven to wear to the ball tonight.” The skeletal remains of the old witch shuffled into my bedchamber, holding out a white ballgown with the puffiest sleeves I’d ever seen.
It was beautiful, exactly the kind of dress I would have liked to see her in, but I shook my head.
“No, not that one. Rayven will hate it.”
Holga’s gaping eye sockets bore into me. Skeletons couldn’t make facial expressions due to the lack of skin and pretty much everything else, but after all these years as the Lord of Bones,I could read them just as well as any living creature. Her confusion was evident, yet she was too afraid to say as much.
I sighed, sweeping a hand impatiently between my antlers, combing through my unkempt hair. “I know I like my maidens in white, but Rayven prefers black. Bring her something darker.”
My attention slid back to the sleeping woman, my eyes dropping to the collar around her throat with the skull pendant above the delicate hollow of her throat. Its red eyes shone like drops of blood, tears for the sins that landed her here, in my realm. “Perhaps with a scarlet trim.”
Holga nodded in my periphery. “Of course, My Lord.”
My head whipped back to pin the skeleton with a pointed look. She could don the sweetest of tones, but it didn’t fool me. The disdain bleeding from her was thick enough to choke on. “You disapprove of what I did.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, My Lord.”
“Don’t play stupid, witch.” I bared my teeth, and she flinched again. “You know I claimed her soul. She is mine. Pity her all you’d like, but I own her now. There’s no changing it. Don’t bother trying to help her escape like you did with Catherine. There’s no escaping me, not even in death.”Especiallynot in death.
Summoning some courage, she squared her bony shoulders and lifted her chin. “She gave you her soul thinking Belial would save her from the Lord of Bones. You’ll break her heart when she learns the truth.”
“She will be Queen of the Underworld. She doesn’t need a heart.”
“Says the King of Death who’s obsessed with life. You cannot fool me, nor will you fool her for much longer. And when she learns the truth, she’ll never let you touch her again.”
I stormed toward the servant, morphing into the Lord of Bones. The twin flames in my eye sockets jumped as I sneereddown at Holga, who shrank back against my armoire. My jaws snapped, making her jump, and I let out a hollow laugh as deep as the ninth circle. “She won’t have a choice.”
Leaving Holga to collect herself, I turned my heel and charged toward my chamber door. “She’ll wake soon. Tell her nothing. And make sure she loves her dress.”
Chapter Two
Rayven
Blurry images swirled throughmy groggy mind as I reached for consciousness, none of them clear enough to grasp. I couldn’t remember falling asleep, but I did remember Belial taking off his mask to show me his face. He was more handsome than I’d imagined—with his sharp jawline, aquiline nose, and deep scars stretching down to the bone.
Then, he kissed me, a kiss so hot and possessive, it was like he was branding my soul with his lips.
Belial.
With a sharp gasp, my eyes flew open. Blinking frantically, I expected to find myself on the cliff’s edge, the black ocean crashing against the jagged rocks below. Instead, I found myself in Belial’s four-poster bed, staring up at the familiar canopy, thedusty smell of the castle assaulting my senses. The worst part? Belial was nowhere in sight.
My heart lurched into my throat, and I frantically looked at my wrist. There were two marks—only two.
I already knew I wasn’t getting out of here, but my third and final day wasn’t up yet. That meant there was still time before the Lord of Bones came for me—before he came forus.
I had no clue what Belial’s plan was to deal with his Lord. There was no way the King of Limbo was just going to give me to his ferryman, right? Chaining me to his bed my first night here was one thing, but he wouldn’t accept our permanent bond.
The Lord of Bones would never let me go. I knew it deep down, despite Belial’s flippant confidence.
Judging by the murky daylight filtering in through the heavy curtains over the window, there were a couple of hours left before sundown.
