Why had he brought me back to the castle? Right under the Lord’s nose…
I had to trust Belial. He’d helped me through the labyrinth. He’d protected me. When he brought me back to his room to rest and bathe, he’d shown me the book where my father’s soul rested and shared pieces of his life I’d known nothing about.
He’d even removed his mask to show me his face.
All it had cost me was my soul.
I’d do it again.
After everything we’d been through, after everything he’d done for me, I’d give him my soul all over again and probably more.
Fucking hell. Where was he? If he insisted on taking me back to his bedroom, he could have at least done me the courtesy of being in his bed when I woke.
My dreams of him had been…vivid. Like he was really touching me.
I sat up and whipped my head around, searching for the ferryman. Movement caught my eye near the wardrobe, and my heart jumped with a whisper of hope, but when the figure came into clear view, my stomach sank.
It was Holga.
She was no longer wearing her tattered dress, but a floor-length, plum-colored gown that clung tightly to her ribcage and spilled in a wave around her feet. Her silver hair was pulled back neatly into a bun, and for the first time, I could almost imagine how she was in life: poised, regal, serious. She looked good—well, as good as a skeleton could look.
Panic slammed back into me a second later.
“Where is he, Holga?” I asked, throwing back the blanket. Someone had removed my boots, dressed me, and tucked me in. My feet hit the floor before I could stop them, and I was marching toward the middle of the room. “Where is Belial?”
The witch shifted, her bony fingers clicking as she wrung her fleshless hands together. “He’s not here, child.”
I stilled, fear zipping up my spine, and a painful weight sank in my chest. “What happened?”
She didn’t answer. Somehow, she didn’t need skin for me to read her face. How could bone be so expressive?
“Holga! Tell me!” I snapped, losing my patience. “Where is he? Did the Lord of Bones take him?”
Holga heaved a sigh and tilted her head to the side. If she’d had eyes, I imagined they’d be full of pity, but as it was, the empty sockets stared at me lifelessly, making my hair stand on end. What did she know that I didn’t? “I…I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
She was lying. I just knew it.
The Lord of Bones probably commanded her not to say anything.
“Tell me, please.” I grabbed her hands, pleading with her. “Nothing can happen to him.”
“That man doesn’t deserve your concern, Lady Rayven…”
My chest tightened at the thought of the Lord of Bones punishing his ferryman. My ferryman. Mymate.“Can you at least tell me he’s safe?”
“We must get you ready,” the witch insisted, shaking my hands free as she dodged yet another question.
My brows knitted together. “Ready? For what?”
“The masquerade ball.”
With a sweep of her bony hand, she gestured to the wardrobe, and that was when I finally noticed a billowing red and black gown hanging from the front of it. It was a goth girl’s dream dress, with blood-red fabric that shimmered beneath a layer of intricate black lace. The corset top was flecked with tiny black crystals that glinted subtly in the dim light, and it had short, off-the-shoulder bubble sleeves.
It was the most stunning thing I’d ever seen.
Too bad I didn’t plan on wearing it.
I gave an adamant shake of my head. “Yeah, I’m gonna pass. Not really a party person. I’m supposed to be in the labyrinth anyway, not here. My time isn’t up. If you can find Belial for me…”
