She was in so much trouble. But the warning had lost its edge somewhere along the way. She'd been in trouble since the moment she'd looked at the Reaper.
Dante's jaw tightened, and he slowly pulled his hand back. He reached for his gloves on the table and tugged them on, one finger at a time.
"We should go."
Cold air rushed into the space where he had been. She missed it immediately.
They stepped into the transport circle together, his shadows wrapping around them both for the journey. Even that felt different now. Personal rather than merely practical. The darkness pressed close, carrying his scent, his presence, surrounding her in a way that made her hyperaware of every inch of space between their bodies.
"Remember," he said quietly as the magic built around them, "Vex feeds on desire. Don't let the environment influence your judgment."
The warning should have prepared her. It didn't.
Rolling hills stretched before them, covered in grass that shimmered like spun silk under a star-strewn sky. Crystal towers rose from the landscape, catching pale moonlight. The darkness felt warm rather than cold, designed for whispered secrets and stolen moments. The pull of it wrapped around her like silk, tugging at something low in her chest.
She forced herself to look away, focusing on Dante instead. His jaw was tight, shadows gathered defensively around his boots, his shoulders carrying tension she'd learned to read over weeks of watching him. He didn't want her here. Not because he thought she couldn't handle it, but because he was worried about what this place might do to her.
She should have found it patronizing. Instead, she stepped closer to him as they walked, using his presence as an anchor against the realm's seductive pull. His shadows responded immediately, tendrils of darkness brushing against her wrist, her hip, her shoulder. Greeting her. Claiming her. She wondered if he knew they did that, wondered if she should tell him.
She definitely wasn't going to tell him how much she liked it.
The courtiers they passed were all beautiful, their movements graceful and inviting, but their eyes gave them away. Hollow, searching, never finding what they wanted. She'd seen that look before, onstreet corners in the human realm, on the faces of gamblers who'd lost everything and kept betting anyway—the look of people chasing something that would never satisfy them.
The grass that had looked lustrous from a distance proved brittle underfoot, crumbling to ash with each step. The scent in the air was intoxicating. Sweet incense, exotic spices, fine wine. But underneath lurked something stale. Overripe fruit. Beautiful rot. This whole realm felt like an elaborate setup. The kind of deal that seemed too good until you read the fine print and realized you'd signed away your soul.
"The gates," she murmured, keeping her voice low.
Dante glanced at her, one eyebrow raised.
She nodded toward the entrance. "Brass with gold leaf. The gems are clouded. It's all fake."
Approval flickered across his face. "Everything here is," he said quietly. "Beautiful promises that deliver nothing."
The massive doors swung open, and a figure emerged.
Lord Vex moved without seeming to hurry, yet covered the distance between them faster than should have been possible. When he smiled, it was too perfect, and he was focused entirely on her rather than Dante.
Cold slithered down her spine.
"Lord Reaper," Vex said, his voice smooth as honey wine, but his gaze never left Brynn's face. The intensity felt invasive, as if he were storing away information. "And the famous ward-reader, Brynn."
He said her name like he was savoring it. Like he had any right to it. She kept her expression neutral, but her hand drifted closer to Dante's without conscious thought, and his shadows immediately curled around her wrist in response.
Dante's voice came out flat. "Vex." Only one word, but the temperature dropped several degrees.
Vex's smile didn't waver as he led them through halls lined with mirrors and gold leaf. He kept up steady commentary, but she felt his attention returning to her again and again, studying her reactions, the way she moved, the distance she kept from Dante.He's reading me. Like a mark.She knew this game. She'd played it herself a hundredtimes, identifying weaknesses in potential targets, figuring out what they wanted most so she could use it against them. The difference was that she'd stolen jewelry and coins. Vex looked like he wanted to steal something far more personal.
The mirrors didn't show reflections. They showed desires.
She caught a glimpse of herself in one polished surface, and her breath stopped. Wealth. Belonging. Dante reaching for her without hesitation, without fear, his hands on her face and his mouth?—
She jerked her gaze away, heat flooding her cheeks. The mirrors knew what she wanted most. And they weren't subtle about it.
Vex's receiving chamber dripped with luxury, every surface designed to overwhelm and seduce. He gestured for them to sit, his gaze fixed on her with unnerving focus. "Now then. Let's discuss these troubling ward failures, shall we?"
He moved to a cabinet and retrieved some documents. But as he spread them across the table, her stomach dropped.
These weren't reports about ward damage. They were about her.
