“In this kingdom, we spell ‘please’ with different letters.” He snorts. “Fine, fine, I’ll tell you. Torin didn’t realize his magic was still obeying his demand when he said, ‘For none can rival death but itself.’” He tilts his head as he waits for me to understand.
“So you’re telling me I need to find someone with death magic?”
Oh shit…
He replies before I can. “You don’t need to find them. They are already here.”
His mage ring glows as he waves his hand. The wall behind me grumbles as the door opens.
“That is all I can tell you, so unless you plan on trying to seduce me and sleep with a librarian, as Titus suggested, I’m headed to bed. Good night, pompous prick.” When he reaches for the buckle of his belt, I grimace and edge towards the door.
“I’ll be back,” I warn him.
“I knew you’d say that.” He chuckles to himself as he slips into bed.
Chapter
Twenty-Eight
Selene
The scent of velvet and flowers fills my nose, stirring me awake. My eyes snap open. “I’d ask what you’re doing here, but in truth, I know how weak of a man you are, Galen. You’re showing your cracks, and soon they will fester into flaws.” I sit up and stare at him. He’s perched on the edge of my bed. The grin that was painted on his lips slips off like watercolor paint that was doused with too much liquid. He’s just a sad mess now.
“I know you’re lonely.” He pushes me to stand so he can look down at me. He thinks this gives him the upper hand. Newsflash: I can turn my neck and look elsewhere.
“Only a weak mind grows antsy in silent times, Galen. It is you who is lonely. I am content.” I stretch my legs out, proving my point. A glance outside tells me it’s still early morning. “Did your whore last night not exhaust you? You should still be sleeping,” I jab as I uncurl my spine.
There is no going back to sleep now.
His lips twitch. “Most women would be jealous.”
“Most women are fools. Why would I be jealous of a husband who breaks multiple vows? Murderous is more like it,” I sneer.
He opens the palm of his hand, magic flaring as he grows a shiny black stem, thorns sharpening like a knife on a whetstone. A red flower blooms as he stretches his hand toward me.
“And that is why, my sweet wife, I will always crave you. You’re a huntress, and that makes the game more fun.” His magic cuts the vine in half. He alters it more, and I watch as the flower turns the dark purplish-black color I know best.
He brings the rose to his nose, glides it over his lips, and then places it on my pillow.
“I only hunt prey that is worthy.” I swat the rose off my pillow and climb out of bed. I’ll have all the bedding washed now. “Small bunnies mean nothing to me. You were fun until you became annoying. The bridge we made will never be rebuilt. The chasm is too wide. And I don’t care to make an effort with a liar who seeks to kill my people. What do you want?”
He flashes his fangs as he grins. “I want to go catch bunnies, Selene. Unlike you, I enjoy hunting all prey.” He lunges forward and grabs me.
Not involving Titus was the best part of Galen’s impromptu visit. His time weaving is emotionally provoked, and Galen is a master at plucking the string and playing with other emotions. The man’s tongue is a fiddle that can make even the most uncoordinated dance.
Magic snaps and swirls around us, creating a static that charges the air until the portal closes. “Why are we here?” I press my palm against my stomach, holding back my nausea.
I hate portals. The sensation is something I can’t get used to. Give me a horse so the wind can fill my hair any day. I also don’t trust portals. You need to have complete faith in the mage who opens it. We could have walked into a dungeon in some other kingdom.
I can’t help but wonder what Galen has on this mage. It’s rare for mages to work with vampires. They don’t want to be dragged into our war with the fae, which has made the alliance between mages and humans dangerously strong.
In front of us, a wide-open field runs endlessly, like an ocean. It’s untouched; the wild grass dances and sings as the morning sunlight and gentle breeze awaken it.Fresh dew drops still cling to the blades. It would be a beautiful sight if my husband were not looming over me like a rain cloud. Three dozen men gather on the far right, standing at attention, waiting for Galen’s orders.
“We’re hunting,” Galen smirks. He pulls off his leather gloves, which are embossed with black roses. For a man who gardens so much, he has only smooth, clean skin.
“You see, bunnies are useful. They can do so many things, sweet wife. You can use them for food.” Galen takes a flask out of his breast pocket and flips open the cap. “As pets, weapons, even prey to catch something bigger.”His brown hair soaks in the sunlight, making it look like strands of gold are hiding in the woodsy brown shades.
It’s a built-in trap, luring prey closer. Galen’s soul isn’t black; it’s a void that swallows everything, every shade of color, till none exists. He’s been sucking away my spirit.
