CHAPTER 23
Alora
Karag Dûr brought her to an open balcony carved into the mountainside, high above the world. Wind brushed against Alora’s skin, clean and cool. A faint moon hung above, casting pale light over distant peaks and jagged valleys cloaked in silver. It was night now, quiet and still. A veil of stars stretched wide overhead.
The sound of giggles and squealing laughter led her further past a short wall of potted shrubbery. And there he was.
Rune lounged on a velvet settee draped in dark furs, set beneath the shelter of the balcony’s overhang. He wore a black battle-wrap draped low across his hips, the folds shifting like poured ink with every movement. His bare chest gleamed beneath a collar of woven gold, heavy with crimson jewels glowing like coals. Bracers girded his forearms, their gilded edges glinting faintly in the firelight.
A goblet of black stone rested in his hand, half-filled with wine that gleamed like blood. Around him, beautiful she-demons clustered, draping themselves over his lap, offering him fruits with pale hands, pouring wine into his cup, their laughter sharp and lilting. Most wore translucent cloth that barely passed for clothing, others were bared entirely in offering. Their pale hands stroked his arms and chest, looking up at him with pouting red lips, eyes begging lustfully
Alora’s stomach twisted. He had delayed their talk forthis? To be fawned over, fed like some indolent king while she sat in her room gnawed with questions?
Her fists clenched at her sides as anger rose to her face. Before she could leave, Karag Dûr announced her presence with a low rumble. Rune’s eyes flicked toward her, already gleaming with amusement.
Her stomach sank with the sudden, infuriating realization:
He wanted her to see this.
The air along the balcony rippled and the flames in the braziers flared.
Rune briefly glanced at them then raised his goblet in a mock salute. “Ah, at last. I was beginning to think you would sulk in your chambers all night, wife.”
She gritted her teeth, swallowing the lump of fury in her throat. “We agreed to meet tonight, did we not,husband?”
He smiled, slow and wolfish. “Of course, forgive me.” Then he smacked a demoness sharply on her ass, making her squeal. “Go on, girls. I am done with you for the evening.”
They all whined dramatically, pouting. Every giggle that spilled from their painted mouths scraped her nerves raw. Alora laced her fingers together, fighting the urge to snatch his goblet and throw the wine in his face.
Rune’s gaze flickered to her clenched hands, his smirk deepening. “Leave us.”
This time the command was definite. His adoring flock gathered their belongings and scurried out, laughter echoing behind them like ghostly bells.
Rune patted his lap, grinning. “There, now I am all yours, songbird. There’s no reason to be jealous. Though I quite like the look on you.”
“Spare me the theatrics,” Alora said sharply, folding her arms across her chest. “I’m not jealous. I’m sickened by your rakish behavior and debauchery.”
Rune chuckled, rich and shameless. He rose and circled her slowly, shadows curling beneath his feet like affectionate beasts. “You were sickened, yet you lingered at the door. Maybe a little too long.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I was deciding whether to come in or let them finish feeding you like a spoiled hound.”
He placed a hand over his chest in mock offense, though amusement sparkled in his eyes. “I merely intended to give you time to grow accustomed to your new home. Or would you rather I spent all this restless energy with you?”
His gaze dipped in a way that made her flush.
“I came todiscuss,” Alora replied, tone icy, “if you’ve learned anything more about the Sleeping Curse.”
Rune sighed dramatically and turned away, flopping back into the settee like a king exhausted by burdens he never bore. “Straight to business. No wine? No pleasantries? No lingering glances of forbidden desire? Come now, Alora. Sit. Drink. Talk of curses and conspiracies can wait until after dessert.”
She groaned, rubbing her temples. “You are the most exhausting creature I’ve ever met.”
He laughed, low and dark, the sound curling like smoke. “Oh, you’ve no idea how exhausting I can be.”
Shadows whipped around her in a sudden rush, sweeping her across the balcony and depositing her on his lap. His claws traced her hip, keeping her there.
“One night with me, and you will beg for mercy,” he purred in her ear. “Then curse me when I grant it.”
Her breath caught at the sudden wave of warmth sinking down her neck. She pressed against his chest in an attempt to put space between them. His skin was scorching, muscles like carved stone beneath her palms, and it sent an unwanted tremor through her.
