Page 20

My breath hitches. “Olga… You do not mean what I think you do.”

She looks down at the floor. “Of course not, my lady. Forgive me. The garden isn’t even in full bloom yet.” She mumbles the last part.

The nightshade garden was a gift from Aquarius Thorn. His sister Astrid blessed it the morning before she married us. While the buds are young, they are already secreting. The scent is subtle now, but it won’t take long for it to overpower the entire area it consumes. And anyone not immune to poison won’t be able to go anywhere near it.

“Are you two consorting against me?” Bell strides down the hall, quiet as a mouse. His presence can be whisper soft or as loud as a thunderstorm. It all depends on the advantage he’s trying to gain.

Olga ducks her head and scoots back against the wall, allowing room for him to join me at the window. She gives him a slight bow. “My lord.”

I grit my teeth, annoyed that the scent of him sends goose bumps across my skin. “Yes, I was thinking this would be the best window to push you out of. There’s a rose bush full of thorns just below, so if the fall doesn’t kill you, at least you will be maimed.”

His eyes spark with delight even as they darken. “I would be hideously scarred, wouldn’t I? I’m too vain for that, Arkana. Please come down and finish me if that were to happen.”

I can’t help but smirk at our absurdity. Much to Olga’s disdain. I can practically feel her scolding me in her mind. I down the rest of my whiskey in a very unladylike fashion and shove my empty goblet against his chest. “You have my word, Lord Erebus. If you do not die on impact, I will thrust a dagger into your chest and twist until you’ve taken your last insufferable breath.”

The corners of his mouth turn up into a devious smirk as he backs me toward the open window. I stumble until I’m forced to sit on the ledge. He grips the frame, blocking my path to safety. “I’ve heard that if one falls from a high enough position, they’re more likely to croak from fright before their bones even hit the ground.”

Olga whimpers. My poor housemaid’s limits are being tested to the brink since we moved into this manor.

I steel my gaze up at him, fearless. “Shall we test it out now, then?”

His long dark eyelashes flutter, casting shadows across his cheeks. “Perhaps we should go together. Till death us do part and all that.”

The wind picks up speed at my back, and the perched raven squawks. “Mors tua, vita mea,” I rasp. Your death, my life. I never understood the weight of it until now.

He presses a searing hot palm to my chest. “I will haunt you and this manor. I swear it,” he whispers. “You will never be rid of me.”

I release a quivering breath. “Only one way to find out.”

We’re locked in, our gazes fixed. The more we surrender to the tension, the more it builds. Olga gasps as Bell shifts forward and presses me to the edge of the window. My long black waves blow in the icy wind.

A rush of adrenaline surges through my veins, sending a tingle between my thighs. He likes to play with fire and danger. And I am drawn to these violent things. These wild gestures that blur the lines between us.

“After you, my lady,” he taunts.

I smile and lean into the wind. We shall see what he’s made of. “The lady calls your bluff.” I lift my arms and rock back.

His nostrils flare, his dark eyes widening as he catches my wrists before I topple out.

“My lady!” Olga screams.

I laugh as the top of me dangles out the iron-framed window of the third story. “This can all be yours,” I call out over the wind. “All you have to do is let me go.”

Bell yanks me back inside so hard I slam into his chest. He pinches my chin between his frozen fingers. “Never.”

“You are both going to send me to an early grave,” Olga declares as she clutches her chest.

As Bell and I burst into laughter, Delia charges down the hall, frantic. She nearly collapses when she sees me. “Oh, thank the gods. The coachmen said they saw you dangling from the window.” She eyes us both with caution.

Olga regains her composure, ever the professional. “They were mistaken. I will set them straight.”

Delia nods but doesn’t look convinced. How can I blame her? Olga is right. I have not been myself since I’ve saddled myself with this man. “Supper is almost ready, my lord and lady.”

I smooth my palms against the folds of my gown. My pulse ticks when I brush against the hilt of one of my daggers. I forgot I had stashed a few more to make up for the one he took from me in the carriage. “I will take another whiskey in the parlor while we wait. Will you join me, husband? Or will you be heading back to the crypt?”

Bell eyes me with amusement and something that almost looks like admiration. “I’d prefer to stay above ground for at least a few more nights, if that’s all right with you.”

I shrug and spin on my heel. “We’ll see. The night is young, my lord. You may piss me off again.”