Balthazar’s rotting mouth twisted into a grin—half his lip sloughed off with it. “Tell me, my love,” he rasped, voice wet and broken, “how did you convince Costa to give you the poison? That man demands payment for every drop he crafts. And no Timehunter offers poison for free.”
Heat surged through me at the memory.
ThepriceI’d paid.
My thighs clenched instinctively, but I dared not speak the truth. Not with Balthazar like this. Not when a single maggot-filled glance could ignite his wrath.
I forced myself to look past the rot—past the slick patches of peeled flesh and the stench of death clinging to his monstrous frame. His left shoulder remained mostly untouched, smooth and sinewed like the man I once craved. I reached for it, my fingers trailing down the firm muscle as if trying to remember what it felt like to touch someone whole.
“I told him someone evil was hunting me,” I whispered, voice husky. “And thatwefeared for my life. That you were my protector.”
Balthazar’s one good eye narrowed. Or maybe it just twitched—his other lid sagged grotesquely, hanging like loose flesh over a socket that oozed at the corner. The sound of maggots writhing in his skull filled the silence between us.
“And did you tell him who the bad man was?” His voice was a rasp, thick with suspicion.
I shook my head, the lie dripping easily from my tongue. “No. He didn’t ask. He was just... eager to help.”
My hand trembled as I peeled away what was left of his bloody vest, the fabric sticking to his soaked shirt. Beneath it, muscle glistened with blood—some his, some not.
“Why would he care so much about your safety?” His tone sharpened, and a patch of rotted skin on his brow rose with mock curiosity. A writhing maggot slipped out and plopped wetly onto the floor.
I closed my eyes, stomach twisting—but not with revulsion. God help me; I could still feel Raul. His hands, his mouth, the sheerintactnessof him. He’d made me feel alive, desirable… ruined.
But then I looked past Balthazar’s shoulder to the cell.
Malik lay crumpled on the floor, coughing blood, clinging to Layla’s corpse. The sight brought a diabolical smile to my lips.
Worth it.So fucking worth it.
“Let’s go upstairs, my love,” I said, slipping my hand into Balthazar’s cold, bony grip. He followed without question, and I tugged him up the stone stairs. As soon as we crossed the threshold, we collided—mouths crashing together, my nails digging into the warm parts of him that hadn’t yet decayed.
I squeezed my eyes shut.
There’s only Balthazar. He’s my true love.
But Raul’s image shoved its way back in—his mouth between my thighs, the way he pressed me to the wall and took me like I belonged to him. I gasped as the heat rushed through me again.
No. Iusedhim. IusedRaul.
And now, I’d use the memory of him to fuck the creature I truly belonged to.
I let the fantasy consume me.
I kissed Balthazar like I meant it—savagely, hungrily, like he was the only man I’d ever wanted. I wrapped my legs around his waist and let the ghost of Raul—his cock, his tongue, his fucking breath—invade every filthy motion. Every moan. Every thrust forced the breath from my lungs.
And Balthazar didn’t suspect a thing.
He thought I was coming forhim. Forus.
And I came hard.
Harder than I’d ever admit.
Swallowed by decay. Driven by lust. Ruined by both.
We collapsed onto the furs before the fire, limbs tangled in a grotesque ballet. I writhed against the soft pile as Balthazar shoved his monstrous cock inside me, the remnants of flesh brushing mine like velvet dipped in rot. I didn’t care. Not when the memory of Raul’s grip, Raul’s filthy mouth, Raul’s voice still buzzed behind my eyes.
I didn’t even know who I wanted more.
