It’s why I feel this connection to Dove.
Death bringer calls to death bringer.
My Blood Lover was glorious in his defiance, despite the darkness of his despair.
I licked up his tears along with his blood and both were delicious.
If I could only trust that Dove’s wickedness, which I smell underneath his sweetness, wouldn’t be used against me. Yet he’s addictive enough to be worth the risk.
Guilt churns in my stomach.
I speed up toward the Scarlet Temple, which is painted red like it has been dipped in blood.
When the priestesses rush out, attempting to stop me, I simply flick my wrist.
Shadows whip out, knocking them flying back into the stone sphinxes.
I crash through the cedar front doors with a splinter of wood.
The temple has a high ceiling and endless rows of polished stone columns. It is freezing and dim inside with no windows, only oil lamps spluttering in niches along walls that float with red ribbons. It’s like being inside a heart.
My nose scrunches at the intense aroma of lotus oil.
I clench my gloved hand, remembering the sensation of touching my Omega, after Nebet lied to me my entire life that I couldn’t.
Did Nebet fear the power that I would hold when a bond formed? Fear the beautiful Ankh symbol on Freya’s even more beautiful skin?
When I carried Freya back to our chambers, she didn’t want me to put my gloves back on, fascinated by the feel of my fingers.
“Keep touching me,” she murmured.
I stripped her, until she laid stretched naked on my covers.
Then for the first time, I experienced skin on skin.
I drew across the canvas of Freya’s skin, but I didn’t paint her a bloodied scarlet, transforming her instead into a sweating, writhing mess.
I could be more than death.
I summoned snakes, which curled around her wrists, holding her in place.
Freya’s eyes widened. “Are they poisonous?”
I circled my Omega’s breasts, thumbing her nipples, before I leaned down to murmur against her ear, “Only to my enemies. Now, don’t move.”
When I ran my hands down Freya’s sides, she spread her legs.
“Don’t stop touching me.” Freya’s gaze caught mine and held it.
Did she know how much that meant to me? To touch? For someone towantme to touch them?
“I won’t.” I painted Freya’s skin with repeated hieroglyphs — the Ankh, the symbol of forever love.
I followed my fingers with kisses, up and down Freya’s body, worshiping her body for hours.
I made her come in ways that I didn’t know were possible.
I watched Freya’s expressions, each moan, bite of lip, and twitch, memorizing them. I hoped that I would have an eternity to learn every one of her reactions and what she needed from me.
