Kael just laughs, deep and mocking, as Lucian sweeps me from the throne room, carrying me out of the demon’s palace and into the firelit streets beyond.
My heart pounds, half with terror, half with relief. It feels so good to be held in Lucian’s arms—too good. The heat inside me hasn’t faded—it lingers—pulsing and hungry between my thighs and at the tips of my breasts. And I know one thing with terrifying certainty…
I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want him right now.
30
Jules
The world is a blur of sensation, a fever dream painted in shades of shadow and sin. Lucian carries me through the Carnal Bazaar, his arms are like flexible steel wrapped around me. My cheek is pressed against his chest, where I can hear the slow, deliberate beat of a heart. It’s a comforting, terrifying rhythm.
Around us, the Bazaar unfolds in a dizzying rush. I see it in flashes, like glimpses through a cracked mirror. Stalls draped in velvet the color of bruises and fresh blood…the cloying, sweet scent of exotic perfumes and burning incense, undercut by the musk of sweat and something darker, spicier—desire itself, given a smell.
I hear the low murmur of countless conversations…the clink of strange coins…the wet, rhythmic slap of flesh from curtained alcoves…and occasional sighs that are pure pleasure or pure agony—I can’t tell which. Demons of every shape watch us pass with eyes that gleam like polished jet, their smiles revealing too many teeth. The air is warm, thick, and heavy, pressing down on my skin like a damp weight.
It’s all too much. I bury my face against Lucian’s broad chest, breathing in his scent—warm, spicy, and undeniably masculine with a faint, metallic whisper of power. It’s my only anchor in this sea of chaos.
Then, the sensory storm recedes. The noise fades to a distant hum and the press of bodies vanishes. He sets me down on my feet, his hands lingering on my waist until he’s sure my trembling legs will hold.
Before us rise the gates, towering and seamless. No handle, no lock—just immense, iron bars that block the path back to the Central Hub.
“How are we going to get through?” My voice sounds small, swallowed by the dense silence around the gate. “When I tried to get through before, they wouldn’t budge. Not even a crack.”
Lucian looks grim, his aristocratic features carved from marble in the dim light.
“If you haven’t figured it out yet, little one, every gate in the Shadow Realm demands a sacrifice.”
“Yes, I figured that out,” I say, slightly impatiently. “The gates to your, uh, kingdom opened when I stuck myself on one of the thorns and gave them some blood. But this gate wouldn’t take my blood—I know because I tried it when I was trying to get out earlier.”
He nods once—a sharp, precise motion.
“It’s true, the gates to my world—to the Bleeding Court—they demand blood to get out. But not all gates want the same thing. The gates to the Gilded Warrens demand treasure or gold, and the gates to the Hollow Necropolis require a piece of your soul. The gates to the Savage Den require an act of violence to pass, and the Briar Court needs Fae magic—a glamour.” His eyes, dark as a starless midnight, hold mine. “Every realm guards its borders with a price that reflects its nature.”
A shiver that has nothing to do with cold traces my spine.
“So what do these gates want to let us pass?”
He doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he steps closer, his body radiating a heat that seems at odds with his vampiric nature. He looks into my eyes, his gaze intense enough to pin me in place.
“Think, little one. What is the Carnal Bazaar all about? Why did the Demon Don want to keep you?”
My mind races, tripping over the memory of Kael’s hands on me, his voice slick as oil in my ear.
‘Such potent lust magic…’
Sudden realization hits me, hot and embarrassing.
“He said… he said I had lust magic,” I whisper, the words feeling illicit on my tongue.
“And so you do, my lovely one.”
His voice drops to a velvet rumble. He reaches up and strokes my cheek with the backs of his knuckles. The touch is shockingly gentle, but it ignites a line of fire straight from my face to the spot between my legs. Is it still the residue of the spell Kael was using on me, or is it—as Lucian claimed earlier—that his touch arouses me because I’m his Fated Mate?
I can’t tell and to be honest, I don’t care. My skin feels too tight…too sensitive. Every nerve ending is screaming for more of his contact. I feel like I’m right on the edge of combustion—a dry pile of kindling waiting for his spark.
“Lust,” I breathe and the word itself is a confession.
“Exactly.” He nods, his thumb brushing my lower lip. “These gates demand an act of lust. Which I will now perform on you, little one.”
