Another step, and he’s in my space. Breathing my air. He means to unnerve me, to rebalance the scales of power. I won’t let him. Not now that I’ve clawed a bit of it for myself, however small, to hold over him.
“What?” I reply innocently.
His smile only grows darker. “What it is that binds us.”
I keep my face carefully blank, even as something inside me thrashes at his words. “Pain?”
Niko laughs, a sensuously dark sound that rolls through me. “Power.”
His lips wrap around the word like a caress, and another shiver skitters over my skin, this one having nothing to do with cold or shock.
The king leans forward, placing a hand on the rock above my head, caging me between his arms. But for some reason, being trapped doesn’t chafe like it usually does. And maybe it’s because of the warmth of his body next to mine, the smell of icy winter that lingers around us. Maybe it’s the proximity of his death ribbons that sends a surge of adrenaline careening through my veins. Or maybe, it’s that Niko has read me so thoroughly, he’s now offering me the one thing that will not only distract me from peeling back his armor—it will keep me in Letum.
Power.
I’ve spent my life running to keep myself safe, but what if I didn’t have to? What if I had the power to strike down anyone who tried to harm me? Who tried to take what’s precious to me and use it for themselves? When Adira said the island amplifies the power of your soul, I’d only thought of the terrible things in myself—the selfishness, the cowardice. I hadn’t considered the other parts; the parts Niko has demanded. The savage ones—the dark slices of my soul that will burn the world if it means protecting what’s mine.
As if reading my thoughts, Niko tips his head down in wicked approval. “Forgive me for so grievously misreading you.” I cock a brow at his admission, as he doesn’t seem the type to apologize. Ever. “Offering you the chance to save your world from the plague. It was a rare mistake on my part.”
His tongue darts over his bottom lip, wetting it as his eyes rove over every inch of my face. “I’d thought your heart one of a hero. Cowardly, but pure nonetheless.” He shakes his head as if the very thought is ridiculous.
And though it is, I stiffen indignantly as Niko’s gaze flickers to where the infernal organ pounds in my chest. Like he can see through my skin to the contracting muscle; see the scars carved there, the mutilated remains I’ve lived with for so long.
“You’re no hero, Darling. You have the heart of a villain. Dark.Ravenous.”
Like his words have pulled it to the surface of my skin, suddenly, I feel exactly as he says: fucking ravenous. Like I’ve been starving for eons, and only the king holds what is capable of satiating me.
He leans in to whisper in my ear. “If you help me, Willa, I can promise you power beyond your wildest dreams. Power that will feed every desperate hunger pain. Every dark craving.” His breath is hot, and for a wild moment, I’ve the urge to stretch my throat before him, just to feel more of it over my skin. “No one will ever be able to hurt you again.”
I bite my lip as desperate want threads through me. For something I haven’t ever dared to name. “I’m listening, Your Majesty.”
Chapter eighteen
I’ve got her.
I know it by the hitch of her breath, by the subtle flush that rises to her cheeks as she gazes up at me. Her lips are parted, like that wicked mouth is poised to devour any morsel I deign to give her.
Sam thought I needed to be kind to lure Willa in, but he was wrong. I only needed to be exactly who I am—the man who will tear apart whatever and whoever I must in order to succeed. Kindness, heroism, those had only scared Willa off. But power—and the ability to lord it over others—thatis her language. The one written in her blood and on her bones.
And now that I understand what makes her tick, what drives her, I’ll never let her go. She’s mine, whether she knows it or not.
Her small tongue darts out of her mouth, pink and wet as she runs it nervously over her lower lip. My death shudders and tightens, the sharp feel of it nearly pulling a scream from my throat. I’m too raw after everything, too tired to hold it as close as I am. But I don’t trust it near her.
It wants too deeply. I refuse to examine whether the want is only of the ribbons, or if my own has twisted up into it; whether it’s want of death, of punishing her for what runs through her blood, or worse—want ofher.
It doesn’t matter, regardless. Neither me nor my ribbons can touch her if I want her to survive long enough to be of any use. How she managed to drag me into this wretched cave all the way from the beach without rotting herself in the process, I can only guess. Blessed by the star above, perhaps, or maybe, just pure, stupid luck.
I grant myself one more long moment of proximity—of breathing her in until disgust and arousal mingle so furiously in my stomach, I can hardly breathe.
“Tell me,” she whispers.
And star help me, I feel the sound of that husky voice in my fucking blood. It sings in response; has me bending closer until the strands of her hair tickle my nose, and the warmth of her skin brushes sweetly against my lips. Just a small dip of my head—that’s all it would take for me to tear out her throat; all it would take for me to devour her, to find out if her taste is as dizzying as her scent.
I step away smoothly, ignoring her small exhale of disappointment, and the violent strain of my ribbons. The cave is colder in the absence of her, the night air icy over my wet clothes and clammy skin, but I ignore that, too. I move a few paces away, around the curved cave wall, careful to place the Indomnitus at my back.
If I never see the cursed ship again, it would be too soon. The black hull, the ornately carved stern—it all looks exactly as it did the day I dropped anchor in the harbor with every intention of coming back. The wood curves as it does in my dreams, serpentine and lethal, poised to carry me to the edges of the world. A symbol of the unending freedom I’ll never have again. Ifeverything hadn’t gone to shit, I’d be standing at the prow gazing at some new horizon, instead of rotting away the years trapped in a dying kingdom.
Both my ship and I gathering dust, while trying not to become dust ourselves.
