Page 8 of A Kiss From Death (Oath of Vengeance #1)

B ANG. BANG. BANG.

Who in the ever loving Fallout is messing with my beauty sleep at this hour? My eyes are sealed shut with no plans on opening anytime soon. My brain is running at half speed as I float in the in-between of sleep and consciousness.

“Just Nyxi!” a loud and very angry male voice yells somewhere in the near distance. “I’m here to escort you up to Lunaria.” His tone carries an edge.

Lunaria?

LUNARIA!

“Fuck!” I bolt out of bed as reality slaps me across the face. This man is here to take me for the start of The Reaper Crucible.

My head spins, and I’m not sure if it’s from rushing out of bed or the obsessive amount of moonshine I used to numb myself last night.

“Just a second!” I shout towards the front door, where I can sense the mystery man is losing patience by the second.

He grumbles something under his breath about not getting paid enough for this shit. “You have five minutes before I knock this door down and forcefully remove you myself.” His tone is final.

Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed , jeez. This man could bring death to all things fun in Fallout with just the tone of his voice.

“ No need to get your underthings all in a bunch, Death Reaper . I only need three,” I spit back, an edge to my tone. An amused grunt travels through the door, like there’s an inside joke I’m blind to, and then he yells at me to hurry up yet again.

It takes me no time at all to make myself presentable and gather the few belongings that have any meaning to me, including my new favorite, Theo’s journal. Taking one last look around the house, I commit it to memory, then stride to the door.

“That’s it, I’m coming in,” he grumbles just as I turn the knob, opening the door. My face is immediately acquainted with his rock hard fist flying towards the door to knock. Instead, it assaults me straight in the nose, making a crunching noise as I’m launched backwards.

Lightning fast, he reaches out his other arm, catching me by my neck before I go toppling backwards on my ass.

“OUCH!” I glare up at him with a look I know can kill, as Theo told me many times. “Is that how you treat every woman who ignores you? You’re mighty full of yourself.”

Narrowing my eyes at him, I rub my throbbing nose. He better not have broken it, or I’ll have to give him a matching one in return.

He stands there staring daggers into my soul, and I think I might faint from the intensity they hold. He may have knocked me senseless, because now, I’m the one hypnotized as I take in the beast in front of me .

He towers above me, casting a large shadow from his sheer size. He has to be at least a full foot taller than me, and I am positive this man was sculpted by the Empress herself, carved and sculpted to perfection.

Every square inch of him is packed with muscle and then more muscle on top of those. They’re the kind of muscles you aren’t born with but build over time with immense training and dedication.

His shaggy, wild obsidian hair reminds me of the darkest night sky. He looks like he just ran his hands through it out of frustration, but it still looks effortlessly edible. The tips of his hair curl in every direction in a chaotic but still presentable manner.

I drag my eyes down his body, where they snag on his piercing eyes, which are complete opposites.

The one on the right is an identical twin to his midnight black hair, as if every color swirled together inside to create a twinkling, iridescent black.

It’s all contained inside a halo-like, glowing silver ring.

Trailing over to his left, I’m taken back. He sports a jagged white scar running from his hairline across his eye to the side of his nose. It reminds me of a lightning bolt cascading through the night sky.

That’s not what catches my attention, though.

It’s the contrast of this eye compared to his other.

It’s as if they represent day and night, light and dark, right and wrong.

It’s almost like this one was black at one point, but all the color has been sucked out, leaving a speckled light gray in its place.

Somehow, it looks even more deadly than his black one, which shakes me to my core.

There is nothing pretty or soft about this man’s face. It’s all sharp, carved edges and screams man, with dark stubble that peppers his jawbone. His fair skin is tanned from the sun, warming his sculpted features. He’s somehow devastatingly beautiful in a rugged way .

His brown leather pants hug every inch of his tree trunk legs, paired with a simple white cotton shirt strangling the life out of his swollen biceps.

My eyes bulge out when I take in the chaotic tattoos covering his entire left arm—abstract shapes, swirls, and landscapes, all blending together in unison to create a sleeve. The same arm still has a death grip firmly around the entirety of my dainty neck.

Blinking out of my trance, I cast narrowed eyes aimed right at him.

“Are you going to let go of my neck, or do you choke out every woman who defies you? No shame here—I know some people are into that sort of thing—but there’s a time and a place, and now is definitely not it.

” I add a hint of annoyance to my tone to get my point across.

He glances down at his hand, just now realizing he has a death grip on me, and releases quickly, like his skin burns where we connected.

“Where is your stuff?” His deathly low growl sets my temper ablaze.

“One, are we just going to skip over the fact that you just punched me in the face and possibly broke my nose?” Taking a step closer to him, I shove my finger into his chest, making me wince as my finger bends against his unyielding brick wall of muscle.

“And two, everything of value to me fits in this bag.” I point at the bag previously strapped over my shoulder, now thrown across the room.

“Is your nose broken?” he deadpans.

“Well, how should I know? I’m no healer.” I fold my arms across my chest, jutting my chin up for dramatic effect.

“You look fine to me. Now, let’s go. We’re late as it is since you wanted to sleep in.” He turns and starts to walk away without another glance.

“What?” I stutter. “Are you a certified healer or something? ”

“Or something,” he shoots over his shoulder as he continues to walk away from me.

“Are you even old enough to come to that conclusion?” I say, more to myself than him, but of course, he has super hearing, because why wouldn’t he?

“I’m twenty-one. Now, keep up.”

Men—they really have the audacity, I swear.

I’ve never met someone who could get under my skin as easily as this man has in less than five minutes.

My exterior is normally an impenetrable force of nature, resulting in people running when they see me.

Theo called it my superpower. For some reason I can’t place my finger on, this man makes my insides crawl with fire.

The flame inside me that’s long since extinguished sparks to life again in an instant.

He makes my skin itch like my whole body is ablaze, and I don’t like it one bit.

Two can play at this game, though, and I fight fire with fire.

“Are you at least going to apologize for ruining my pretty face with your fist?” I pretend to throw daggers with my eyes at the back of his unknowing head.

“Sorry,” he says bluntly.

“Do you mean it?”

“No. Now keep up,” he grunts.

“You really are a real charmer, you know that?” I spit the words like venom, hoping they strike true.

“Not interested.”

My eyes widen in shock. “Ha. As if I would ever touch you, even if we were the last two citizens left to repopulate the lands, you…you brute!”

“Likewise. Is that seriously as fast as those tiny things you call legs can go?” he grumbles to himself in annoyance.

“Sorry, not all of us are blessed with legs the size of mountains and feet the size of small livestock.” I roll my eyes at him and clench my fists to keep from hitting him across the back of the head, which I’m honestly not so opposed to at the moment.

“Blessed, huh?” His voice raises an octave in question. I almost pick up on a hint of a smirk, but it’s gone just as fast.

“Pig!” I scoff.

“Better than Death Reaper,” he mumbles under his breath.

“Death Reaper it is then, sir.” I add extra umph to the word sir, dragging it out longer than necessary.

“Don’t call me sir.” His voice turns deathly serious.

“What shall I call you then?” Thinking to myself, I excitedly raise my hand.

“Ooo, I know. His royal pain in my ass? No, even better: the bane of my existence?” I’m shocked at my outburst, my temper getting the best of me, which rarely happens.

I just can’t help it around him, though, and this annoying shit knows exactly his effect on me and is wielding it like a bloody weapon.

“My name is only for people of importance, which you are not.” Giving me no time to respond, he adds, “Why don’t you have a last name?”

“My last name is only for people of importance, and I’m afraid you just missed the cut.” I throw his exact words back at him as punishment, adding my signature glare.

He growls under his breath, sounding more animal than human. “Hade,” he states.

“What?”

“My name. Now, why don’t you have a last name?” he pushes again.

“Why do you care so much?” I scoff.

“I don’t.” He throws back defensively. It’s then I realize I may be equally getting under his skin, which I don’t think he’s particularly used to.

I raise my eyebrows in mocking. “Then why ask at all?”

“Just answer the damn question, Nyxi! How does one have no last name? ”

I can feel his temper growing short, like a fuse ready to blow. Hearing my name roll off his tongue in a sharp tone makes my skin break out in full body hives. I’m playing with fire here, but for some reason, I can’t seem to stop myself from poking.

“Seems a lot like you do care.” I pair the statement with my fakest smile for good measure.

“NYXI!” My name smokes out of his mouth like a dragon breathing fire.

“Yes?” I ask innocently, batting my eyelashes at him.

“I have zero patience for games. You can learn that lesson the easy way or the hard way. The choice is yours. Now, tell me,” he seethes.

“Admit you care, and I will.” I’m testing his limits right now, and I can feel the end nearing.

“Hard way it is.” He turns around so fast, I crash into the brick wall that is his body. He grabs me with ease, throwing me over his shoulder like I’m a sack of potatoes, and continues walking.

“Put me down!” I scream, slamming my fists on his back. Holy Empress, this man is a solid wall that physically hurts as I continually assault him.

“I told you, I have zero patience for games. Now, you have to live with your choices. Plus, you’re slower than watching paint dry.” He sounds like a rabid animal trying to remain in control.

Shit, maybe I took it too far this time .

“PUT. ME. DOWN. I’ll scream louder if you don’t,” I threaten.

“Don’t care.”

“You’re insufferable,” I huff against his back.

“And you are an annoying fly that won’t leave me alone,” he throws back.

“Uggghh! Fine. If you let me down, I’ll tell you,” I plead in defeat.

“Too late. You had your chance. ”

“Please?” It comes out as a whisper. Being this close to another man who isn’t Theo is overwhelming my senses, and I think I’m starting to hyperventilate.

As if picking up on my sudden change of emotions, he gently sets me back on my feet, in harsh contrast to his brute personality. He stands there with his arms crossed, staring at me with raised eyebrows for an answer.

“I don’t know what my last name is,” I say honestly.

“Lies.”

Glaring, I take a step closer to him. “I swear on the Empress’ life.”

“Explain.”

“Do you know how to respond with more than a single word, or are you illiterate?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, you’re illiterate?” I snap back.

“No,” he grumbles.

“You could have fooled me,” I sing.

“Do you want a date with my shoulder again?”

This man is insufferable, so I glare back at him. “Aren’t you supposed to buy me flowers before a date?”

“You are my own personal nightmare , woman. This is the last time I will ask before I wrap something around that feisty mouth of yours so you can’t talk at all.” He sounds more on edge somehow, if that’s even possible.

Nyxi, what the heck did you get yourself into?

It’s so easy to push all his buttons, but I would rather not be acquainted with his shoulder again so soon.

“I don’t know who my parents are, hence my lack of last name. Are you happy now?” I raise both arms out with dramatic flair.

“No,” he grunts .

“I’m gonna go out on a limb here and gamble you’ve never been happy a day in your life, Death Reaper.” Judgment seeps from my pores, and I can tell I’ve hit a nerve there.

He ignores my comment. “Who raised you then?”

“Now that, we are not diving into. Strictly off limits.” I tense at the mere thought of the orphanage.

He must sense my change in mood, because he doesn’t continue to push the subject, and for once I’m thankful. We walk in mutual silence the rest of our journey.