I want to kill him. I’ve done it before. I sure as hell can do it again. Contracts be damned.
“And now you’ll have new clothes. Better suited for a future demon queen,” he hums, disregarding me as if I were nothing but an annoying pest in his way.
“I won’t wear them.”
He laughs, and it lacks all humor. “Are you going to fight me on everything, Miss Sinclair?”
Just like my dream, my mouth goes dry. Only this time, I find a word. “Yes.”
Oziel’s lips curve up, flashing his white teeth. His eyes shine with mirth, amplifying his predatory nature. “Good.” His voice is low, reverberating through the chamber like the growl of an approaching storm.
Oziel steps back, and I gasp softly, not realizing how much his closeness affected me. He turns his back to me, starting for the door. “You will wear the clothes I have selected for you,” he says over his shoulder in a tone that leaves no room for negotiation. “Or you will wear nothing at all. Either way, I’ll be back in half an hour to fetch you. You have until then to make up your mind.”
My heart races, caught between fear and something akin to arousal. Which makes no fucking sense, because I’m fully prepared to murder my husband. Not fuck him.
Oziel walks out of my room without another glance back. The door closes on its own behind him with a resounding thud, leaving me to make a choice.
Which really isn’t a choice at all.
Chapter 7
Isabelle
Looking at myself in the mirror, I have never missed my ripped jeans and old, stained shirt more. Oziel’s idea of everyday wear leaves much to be desired. The dress was difficult to figure out, and on more than one occasion, I seriously contemplated just leaving naked. Surely that would be easier than stuffing myself into this contraption he set out for me. Granted, I did kick out the maid who brought up the dress for me to put on. She offered to help me get dressed, and I refused. I regret that decision now.
The dress is mostly black, of course. I’ve yet to see much of any other color besides red, and I’m starting to wonder if color personally offends the demon king. The bodice is form-fitting and adorned with intricate embroidery resembling swirling flames and shadows, stitched in fine silver thread. The neckline sweeps into a heart shape with delicate black lace, teasing the tops of my breasts.
The skirt cascades from the waist in dramatic layersof velvet and chiffon, each layer edged with glimmering thread. The shoes, at least, are the most sensible part of this ensemble. Plain black heels with enough cushion to help me forget I’m wearing heels in the first place. I opted not to wear the red choker Oziel placed with the dress, my only small act of defiance. I would feel too much like a leashed animal.
“Is this to your liking?” I sneer when he returns exactly thirty minutes later, as he said he would.
Oziel’s golden eyes scan every inch of my body, lingering on my chest. I swear his eyes darken, and his pink tongue licks his bottom lip. Thoughts of other things I could put his tongue to good use for plague my mind before I can stop them. The crude image forming has me squeezing my legs together, and I curse my lustful thoughts.
The fantasy shatters when Oziel opens his mouth and reminds me why I can’t stand men. Demon men are no exception.
“You look satisfactory. Follow me.” He turns on his heels, black coat tails flapping behind him, and storms out of my room as if he didn’t just insult me.
Satisfactory?Satisfactory?
Satisfactory, my ass. I didn’t just spend the last thirty minutes battling layers of fabric to be seen assatisfactory.I’m fucking hot, even if I look like an extra member of the Addams Family. Not that I care if my future husband-to-be finds me attractive… I don’t care.
I don’tcare at all.
Mostly.
“You’re a real asshole, you know that?” I’m certain he does, but I need to remind him.
“I’ve been called worse,” he says over his shoulder.
Not wanting to be left behind, I reluctantly follow Oziel down the hall. The lack of windows makes it hard to decipher what time of day it is. It’s disorienting living in shadows, especially when the shadows feel alive. Invisible eyes feel as if they are boring into my skin, quickening my heartbeat. Blood rushes to my neck and cheeks as I fight to keep my fear at bay.
Despite the pounding of my heart, the castle is eerily quiet and desolate. I know nothing about keeping an estate of this nature running, but it feels as if there should be more people walking around. Cleaning. Catering. Discussing. Unless Oziel has commanded everyone to stay away. Seems like something he’d do—isolate me so I have no choice but to talk to him.
There’s nothing save for an occasional demon adorned in crimson armor, standing as still as statues. Some stand taller when Oziel walks by, but all take the time to study me. There’s nothing friendly in their gazes either. It’s hard not to feel like a sheep in a hungry lion's den. I wonder if they knew of my arrival? If they didn’t, they certainly do now. I stand out like a proverbial sore thumb.
I hurry my steps, falling in line right next to Oziel. A twitch of his lips is the only indication he senses my discomfort. “You won’t be harmed here.”
I scoff. “Yeah, okay.” I don’t trust him.
