Page 18 of Bride of Death (Netherworld Fae #1)

Children of her home world are produced to mate monsters. To do that, many human offspring are genetically created in a clinical setting.

It’s not well known to the mortals of that world, but I know Persephone is aware.

Because Alina knows the truth.

The two of them grew up in a contrived household with a pair of humans designed as their caregivers. They thought they were their parents.

Until recently.

When Alina learned that everything she knew was a lie.

The Elite City controls reproduction of humans and disperses them to the villages.

My mate and her “sister” were among that operation.

“You already know this,” I go on. “Aside from that, it should be obvious with your pale features and her darker ones.”

Persephone’s eyes narrow. “All the more reason for you to know that this is just a giant misunderstanding. Alina’s a real Omega. I’m not.”

I arch a brow. “That’s an interesting evaluation. Explain.”

“Explain?” she parrots back at me. “Explain what? That I’m just a human? That you’ve mistaken me for someone else?”

“I don’t make mistakes. You know this.”

“No, I don’t,” she tells me, her impatience another new trait. My Persephone is patience personified. As evidenced by her miraculous deception. “I. Don’t. Know. You.” She utters the repeated words with a slow precision, like she’s talking to a muttonhead.

Maliki is no longer grinning or eating his popcorn. He actually looks a bit concerned. Maybe because he noticed my hand clenching into a fist.

It’s not out of anger, but another emotion. One that tightens my chest. A sensation I refuse to identify.

“Look, I’m not even an Omega. And as you pointed out, Alina isn’t my blood sister. So this is all just some sort of misunderstanding.” She unfolds her arms, her expression suddenly exuding an unnatural amount of exhaustion. Or is it sadness I’m witnessing? Maybe a hint of jealousy?

I don’t understand it.

Nor do I understand her proclamation. “You possess an Omega’s soul. Specifically, Persephone’s soul.”

“Then why haven’t I gone into heat?” she asks me, her eyebrows rising. “I may not know a lot about Mythos Fae, but Alina has taught me some of the basics. And I’ve not experienced anything like her. So maybe you’re wrong.”

“I’m not.”

She just stares at me, then shakes her head. “You’re like a brick wall.”

I frown, not following the strange comment. “Meaning?”

She snorts and turns away from me to resume fussing with her plant. “Never mind. It’s not worth trying. Just know that I am not marrying you.”

My frown deepens. “You’re already married to me, so I hardly see how a simple ceremony will be an issue for you.”

She doesn’t deign to respond, instead she picks up her pot and carries it into the living room to set it by the solitary window. I watch as she arranges the curtains, then frowns when she looks outside. “There’s no sun here.”

“That’s by design,” I tell her, pleased with myself. “This kingdom embraces death.” I should know, as I influenced various features after its creation.

All with Persephone in mind.

Because I wanted her to be miserable here.

It seemed appropriate for her impending imprisonment.

Many Alphas believe that Omegas are lost forever. I’ve never agreed with that theory because I could sense not only Persephone’s soul but my mother’s as well.

So rather than wallow like many of my brethren, I chose to search. And while I searched, I found a new home for my darling wife.

One that would make her feel bereft.

Alone.

Cold .

Just like I’ve felt since the moment she left.

Loving and hating someone is complex. But with Persephone, I’ve mastered the conflicting emotions.

Because I adore her as much as I despise her.

Desire to both worship and destroy her.

Cherish her and punish her.

Kiss her and bite her.

So many convoluted needs that I’ve not even begun to bestow upon her.

Ignoring what I’ve said, she merely sighs and places her plant beneath a dull light bulb. “I’ll need to find a heat lamp,” she mutters.

I smile. “Good luck.” This kingdom is chilled to the bone for a reason. She can’t escape it. I’ve made certain of that.

Her shoulders slump a little, the action killing my mounting amusement.

I don’t want to hurt her. Not really. But she needs to repent for her wrongdoings, to acknowledge the past, to apologize .

Yet instead of owning her sins, she continues to claim she has no memory of them.

My jaw ticks again as I consider what it means if she’s telling the truth.

But I can’t embrace even the concept of it. Persephone lied to me. She broke my heart. She destroyed our world.

To give her even a speck of faith would be na?ve on my part.

No. I can’t entertain the notion that she’s truly without her memories. I simply can’t.

This is my Persephone.

My mate.

My wife .

“You will walk down that aisle next week,” I tell her. “You owe me at least that much after everything you’ve done to me and our kind.”

Her shoulders stiffen, which is an improvement to the way they caved a moment ago. The relit fire in her eyes is even more enthralling.

“And stay away from Morpheus,” I go on, aware that he was here recently. I could feel his residual presence in the air, his scent one that made my nose curl. But he left before I could catch him in the act of talking to my mate.

A shame.

I would have enjoyed making him appear inferior in front of my Persephone.

“Don’t talk to him again,” I add, feeling the need to ensure she knows all my rules. I’m her Alpha. Her husband . “You disrespected me in a way that’s unforgivable, Persephone. Don’t earn a worse punishment for yourself by making poor decisions.”

Her lips part. “ Excuse me? ”

“No,” I tell her, walking up to where she stands in the living area. “I won’t excuse anything you’ve done. Especially when you pretend not to remember a thing. This game ends now.” I take a final step to invade her personal space, but I don’t touch her.

Because if I do, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.

However, I do let her feel the weight of my dominance.

I’m an Alpha.

She’s an Omega.

Therefore, she will submit.

Her nostrils flare, her eyes widening in a way that confirms everything I know about her. She claims not to be an Omega, but it’s written into her every reaction. The way she inhales, the shudder that follows, the dilation of her pupils, and the sweet scent strengthening with every passing second.

“You’re mine to own,” I whisper to her. “Mine to claim. Mine to knot. Mine .”

“You’re a monster,” she breathes.

“I am,” I agree. “But I’m your monster, wife .”

And I’ll do anything you desire of me except let you go, I think, my gaze holding hers as I consider the words I long to say out loud yet can’t. I’ll even forgive you, darling. In fact, part of me already has.

Otherwise, I wouldn’t be going out of my way to try to re-create what we once had.

Every detail of the nuptials has been completed with her in mind. I want to remind her of our love, of the day we first spoke our vows, and show her how an Alpha cares for his Omega.

Even an Omega who destroyed her Alpha’s heart.

I love you, I long to tell her. I love you more than you’ll ever comprehend. And I hate you for what you’ve done. But I’ll help you fix it… if you’ll let me.

My palm itches to caress her cheek, to pull her into a kiss and forgive her with my tongue.

But instead of giving in to my urge, I simply say, “I’ll see you next week, Persephone. At our nuptials.”

Then I disappear.

And ignore the startled gasp that chases me all the way back to my palace.

I have a wedding to plan.

One where I will win my mate back.

Even if I have to fucking crawl.