Page 5 of Bride of Death

Frowning, I walk over to set the spider ale in front of the one calledGhost. “What have you heard about this rumor?” I ask him directly. “Will all the women be forced to participate?”

“Not all of them,” he murmurs, accepting the drink from me.

“Only unmated ones,” Dead Guy inserts from down the bar.

But I’m not focused on him. I’m staring into a pair of glittering gold irises instead. “Only unmated ones?” I repeat the words as a question, curious to hear his take since he seems to know something about these supposedmating games.

“All unclaimed females will be considered eligible,” he tells me. “Assuming King Onyx and King Skull can agree to terms before the nuptials take place.”

I stare at him. “Nuptials?”

“Indeed,” he murmurs.

“Our lord’s wedding,” Dead Guy helpfully explains. “Apparently, he’s found a bride. Have I mentioned that I’m invited to the main event?” When I finally look at him, his eyebrows waggle again. “I can bring you as my plus-one, if ya like.”

Ghost snorts before taking a long swig of the venomous drink I poured for him.

Gnarls warned me when I started not to imbibe anything at the bar. “All of it will kill you,” he told me with a grimace. “So just be careful, yeah?”

That was the extent of his managerial training.

Everything else I learned from Claws—a Death Fae who very much lives up to his name.

“Don’t think she’s available, Jacky boy,” Ghost drawls, his golden eyes still on me. “And definitely not interested.”

I frown at him. I mean, he’s not wrong. But I can voice my own opinions, thank you very much. And I’m about to tell him that when Dead Guy growls. “Why don’t you mind your own business,dog.”

Ghost slowly sets his glass down and turns within the shadows, his vibrant eyes suddenly on Dead Guy. “Are we going to have a problem, Jack?”

My brow furrows.Jacky boy.I didn’t think much of the nickname before, but now that he’s called himJack, I’m realizing that’s Dead Guy’s name.Seriously? Jack?

“There wasn’t a problem until you showed up,”Jack—I’m never getting over that name—mutters. “I was having a nice conversation with the little human until you arrived.”

And my hand is now a fist again.

“She was about to accept me proposal, too,” he goes on, causing one of my eyebrows to lift upward. Not only does he not seem to understand the proper use of pronouns, but he’s also implying that I’m actually interested in him.

Which I’m not.

At all.

I don’t want a mate. I just desire freedom. Independence. Some timealone.

Because my entire life has been dictated by someone else’s actions. From the moment I was born in Nightingale Village tothe fated Monsters Night to being rescued and brought here, I’ve never been given a choice.

And now this asshole wants to steal my voice from me, too.

“No,” I say, interrupting whatever nonsense he was just spouting at Ghost. “I’m not interested in your proposal. I’m not interested in mating games. And while we’re on the topic of things I’m not interested in, I do not enjoy being calledlittle human.”

He blinks his long, dark lashes at me. “If the mating games move forward, you won’t have a choice as an unclaimed female.”

“Who says she’s unclaimed?” Ghost asks conversationally, his drink now near his mouth. Or I assume it is, anyway. He’s almost entirely covered in shadows again, but the glint of the glass winks at me from where I imagine his lips should be.

Full lips, I think, recalling his features from a few moments ago.Set in a too-handsome face.

Just like all the fae here.

No one ages beyond their thirties, at least as far as appearances go. And everyone is attractive. At least on the outside.