“Sacrifice him, Kitten. One dagger through the heart will rid Mescos of this vermin. It’ll be a safer place because of you,” he says.
I tentatively reach for the dagger. It’s heavy in my hands, blade reflective in the light. The burden of killing him falls upon my shoulders, but instead of shying away from the task, I embrace it.
Just like I did with James. Making the world better by taking him out of it. Perhaps this is my purpose here. To have no one suffer like my sister did. To put an end to those who cause the greatest pain.
I tighten my grip around the dagger’s hilt, wrapping both hands around the worn leather. My pulse pounds in my ears, drowning out everything else.
Slowly, I lift the blade above my head, the dim light catching on its sharp edge. Then, with all the force in my body, I strike. Swift. Unrelenting. The blade plunges into the darkness, slicing through flesh and sinew. The dagger buries itself to the hilt, refusing to go any deeper. My breath comes in ragged gasps, and my hands trembleas I hold my ground, feeling the tremors of life ebbing beneath my grip.
A wet, gurgling sound cuts through the silence as the shadows begin to retreat, peeling back to reveal the pixie. His wide eyes gleam with a mix of terror and disbelief, frozen in the moment between life and death.
Blood stains his lips, pooling in the corners of his mouth as he struggles to make a sound. A scream that never comes. The dagger has struck true, buried deep into his chest. Crimson spills in thick, pulsing waves, soaking into his tattered clothing and pooling beneath him.
He wheezes, a rattling, desperate breath that falters as his body weakens. I watch, transfixed, as the light in his eyes flickers… then fades, leaving them empty, hollow, and forever still. He’s gone. Because of me.
I don’t realize I’m shaking until Oziel pulls me to his chest, wrapping me in his embrace. “Good girl,” he murmurs into my hair, sending heat straight to my core. I have to press my thighs together. Blood is literally and figuratively on my hands, and yet I grow hot with need for Oziel.
Maybe this is who I was always meant to be.
“The Queen has made our sacrifice to the Dark Gods!” Garvan’s voice calls out. He’s greeted by whistles and cheers, thundering around the ballroom. “Let the night’s celebration begin. Pour the wine!”
At his proclamation, the true party begins, despite the dead pixie on the ground. His death has served its purpose.
The guards unchain the pixie fromthe floor. Two of them pick up his lifeless body and drag him out of the ballroom, leaving a trail behind him. Somewhere, music starts to play again, low and seductive. It clashes with the gruesome scene from earlier. The evidence is still staining the floor.
“The party has begun, Kitten. Shall we mingle?” Oziel asks.
As much as I want to stay here with his arms around me and lips on my body, I know we have a job to complete. There’s a lot weighing on this, which I have to remind myself as I pry myself out of my husband’s arms.
“How will I know if my appearance is hidden?” I ask, not wanting to start prematurely and sabotage the plan. I have to do this in a way that doesn’t cause suspicion.
“Get a drink, though only pretend you’re enjoying the lust wine. Keep your head. In ten minutes, start making your rounds. No one will recognize you. They will simply see a pretty she-demon. They will all be far too drunk to think of you or me, but if anyone asks about the queen, I shall come up with a lie. I can give you an hour.” Oziel says the last part almost apologetically. “I thought I could give you more time, but?—”
“An hour it is then.” I nod, strengthening my resolve. I allow myself one last glance at the demon king, handsome as sin and deadly beautiful, before I part from him. There’s work to be done, and I can’t get distracted by Oziel. It’s time to figure out who’s poisoning the River Hel.
“Oh, Kitten?”
Oziel’s voice halts me before I can get too far. A shiver runs up my arm as shadows coil around it, slithering likeliving tendrils before pressing something cold and solid into my palm. Instinctively, my fingers close around it—a hilt, rough and familiar, just like the one I used moments ago. As the shadows disperse, a dagger remains in my grasp, its weight both reassuring and foreboding. How many daggers does this demon have? I don’t think I want to know.
“You should have protection, just in case. Use it wisely,” Oziel murmurs, his voice a ghost of a promise before he vanishes into the crowd.
I’m on my own now.
Carefully, I slide the dagger into the bodice of my gown, tucking it against my skin, wary of the blade’s sharp edge. Taking a steadying breath, I step forward and disappear into the churning sea of demons, swallowed by the chaos of the night.
Chapter 27
Isabelle
My body is still abuzz with the phantom touch of Oziel. The bastard has broken through so many of my barriers that I’m starting to wonder if I’ll ever truly be free of him. If Iwantto be free of him. I was so close to giving in to my desires earlier and allowing myself to kiss him. Right here. In front of everyone.
And if I’m being honest, I wanted more.
The task at hand is the anchor keeping me grounded. A demon carrying a tray of sparkling wine walks by, and I reach for a glass. Oziel’s words replay in my mind. I have an hour. An hour to pretend I’m drunk on lust wine—hence the prop drink in my hand—and find out any information I can from the partygoers. I know the moment Oziel’s magic is working because my skin heats, feeling the caress of his magic over me, hiding my features.
To anyone else, I’m just another demon. Not their queen.
Bodies upon bodies dance in a sea of demons. A few eager couples and groups have wasted no time throwing themselves at one another, getting right to the point. A man sits on a chair while another demon straddles his lap, moving their hips in a suggestive manner. Behind them, another demon kisses his neck.
