“I noticed you don’t like Madame.”
Another sensual brush of his talons along my waist.
“You told me to call you Nahomie. So I am.” A beat. “Nahomie.“
“Release me.Now.”
Hetsked, kissing his teeth.
“Is that any way to speak to a king?”
“Forgive me, I forgot you were one. Definitely thought I was dealing with an asheating rotpot.”
Tassarion chortled. His body shook with his laughter, causing me to jiggle in his arms.
I noticed the patchwork of stitches I saw a few dawns ago was embedded deep in the folds of his skin. Like he’d been cut open in innumerable places on his body, stitched back together, then cut open and sewn back up in the same spot. What kind of cruelty had he been subjected to, to have earned him these kinds of scars?
“It’s rude to stare, Phantom.”
“It’s rude to hold angels hostage, Monstaru.”
The words left my mouth before I could stop them. Stars. One of these dawns I would pay a hefty price for my unbridled tongue. I jerked in his arms, trying to get free. To no avail.
“Honestly, how are you this strong?”
It took me a moment to realize we were no longer flying up in the manor, butdown. For a moment, I grew nervous. Was I being taken to the dungeons? Was he going to feed me to some beast?
Washethe beast that would take my blood for drink?
Blackfire surged within me, flooding me with its familiar heat.
“You suffer from catastrophizing, don’t you?”
“You suffer from minding your own business, don’t you?”
Tassarion’s lips curled into a wolfish grin. Stars. The king was a marvel.
“You’re in my manor, pretty phantom. Which means you aremy business.” He squeezed my waist. “Besides, you’re the one begging for asylum.”
That stopped me short. I quit fidgeting, using my muscles to lift myself off his shoulder so I could pull back to look him in the face.
“What do you mean I’mbeggingfor asylum?”
He wriggled his eyebrows.
“So it’s not the asylum part you’re pricked about.” His eyes glittered like jewels. “It’s the begging.”
“I don’t beg.”
“Sure you do.” His lips twitched. “Very well, I might add. So well, my Gargorètti convinced me to spare your lifeandhandle you with...” He looked off in the distance as if in deep thought. “What was it he said? Oh, that’s right. Handle you withcare.”
If I could knock his head off his shoulders, I would.
The king gave me a small, teasing squeeze as he continued his flight, descending level after level throughout the manor. A flutter of whispers whipped around our ears. His small army of souls had returned. There were everburning Nanmiesseverywhere. How did he live like this? Constantly hearing their endless chatter at all times?
They floated after the king, following him wherever he flew.
In the darkness, their pearly white, fanged teeth gleamed as they thrummed with erratic energy. I sucked in a breath at their sudden disposition. The souls started hissing. Thrashing. Violently stirring through the halls, their anger turning into an eerie howl.
