Page 36 of In Death’s Hands (The Threads of Fate #1)

I am so uncomfortable I think my cheeks will be permanently stained red.

To Atys’ outright joy, he smartly explained that I need to blend in for their plan to work, and apparently, the less I wear, the more I’ll fit in.

To my shock, scowling and grinding his teeth, Nathan agreed.

He surprised me, however, when he looked at the red lingerie piece on the bed, colours rising on his own cheeks, before cocking an eyebrow at me in concern.

“You don’t have to do this. We’ll find another way,” he said.

But with my chance to get answers dangling in front of my eyes, I took all of two seconds to make up my mind and decide that I’d do anything I needed to.

So while Nathan chose to face the wall, grumbling the whole time, Atys had me change into the red, lacy negligee that leaves nothing to the imagination.

He unbound my hair and gave it a shake that left it looking like a bomb had exploded in it. Or, as Atys said when I complained, like I’d had a man’s hand recently tangled up in it. Nathan’s shoulders had tightened further at that comment.

He then proceeded to powder my face and stick fake eyelashes on me, almost taking my eye out when I tried to resist this nonsense.

“Who wears makeup in water?” I asked him, to which he only rolled his eyes and replied, “You’re not getting in that kind of water.

” I kept my mouth shut after that and let him put me in high-heeled shoes and fasten big hoops in my ears that I think are real, actual gold.

When he clapped his hands in utter glee, proudly telling Nathan I was ready and he could turn around, I had no idea what I looked like.

It was only when Nathan choked upon looking at me that I forced my way to the full-length mirror in a corner of the room and discovered that I had been transformed into…

into what a Playboy bimbo would look like if I had any idea what they look like.

To my horror, Atys reminded me that it had been my choice, and then finalised what he called his latest masterpiece by applying a thick layer of Bitch Red waterproof lipstick to my lips.

I’m not making this up, the thing’s actual name is Bitch Red.

After a last set of stern warnings from Nathan, I am now holding on to his arm for dear life as we walk out onto a sunset-illuminated patio filled with people. And Origins.

I’m not sure if I can describe the difference physically, but I feel it.

When looking around, it’s like my eyes automatically land and stay stuck on certain people while skipping others entirely.

I’m so focused on the sensation that it takes me a minute to realise that the entire, huge back garden, filled with at least a hundred people, is completely silent.

I take an involuntary step back only to crash into Atys’ chest, and immediately jump forward again. When I look up at Nathan—his jaw so tight I’m worried it’s going to crack under the pressure—he’s glaring at everyone who dares glance our way.

Atys’ sudden laugh makes me jump. I try to remember the role I’m supposed to play and force my shoulders to relax.

It’s not an easy task when I notice the women and men all clinging to the gods just like I am my protector.

Except the others don’t look like protectors, but more like bored predators searching for their next thrill. And I just so happen to look like one.

Although I wonder why, as I am wearing far more fabric than any of the others.

And contrary to all the lusciously tanned and muscled bodies sticking to one another in ways I am trying not to focus on, mine is all pale and thin.

I’ve got a few muscles, don’t get me wrong, but I lack the forms a female body tends to have.

The forms many of the gods are currently using as handles for various activities.

When I hear a woman moan loudly after a tall, muscly Origin slightly shifts his hips to get a better look at us, I blush furiously.

An uncomfortable feeling blooms beneath my skin and my hands involuntarily tighten around Nathan’s arm.

The feel of him has my mind going to unholy places.

And I suddenly wonder when I last had that kind of fun myself.

It’s a bit disconcerting to find I don’t remember.

The thrill of one-time fun always faded quicker than anyone warned me about.

A few of them wanted to stick around longer, but anytime they mentioned something more permanent, I heard the screeching noises of a car crash and saw the hands of Death. Literally.

With my luck, I decided long ago that letting people get too close to me was a risk I wasn’t willing to take.

Work friends were the only exception I allowed.

Everybody has work friends, and though I love them immensely, I figure that if they only consider me a friendly face they see at work, they aren’t in too much danger.

But then again, maybe Death’s assistant would be immune to my fate.

I chance a look at him, only to find his eyes already on me.

It’s suddenly hard to breathe, and I could swear the same memory of a searing kiss is replaying in his own mind, the heat of his look scorching me in ways previously unknown.

Atys’ thundering voice is like a bullet piercing through my thoughts and scattering them.

“Isn’t she lovely?” he asks the too-curious crowd.

“And look who brought her!” And then he fakes a silly little bow to Nathan and winks at me before turning back to everyone else.

“Let’s show our newest guests what we’re made of, people!

” He claps his hands for effect and saunters off to a far corner, where many bodies seem all too happy to welcome him.

Shock settles into me, mixing with fear. Atys is gone, Nathan is statue-like, and although they are now pretending not to stare, they haven’t let up one bit since we walked into this mess. I take it as an invitation to stare back and regret it immediately.

My gaze falls first on the man buried in the woman who moaned earlier.

His gaze is ravenous. I quickly avert my eyes and take in the rest of the garden.

Between the various writhing bodies on sunbeds, in the pool or directly against walls or on the grass are people with glasses in their hands having what looked like actual conversations from afar.

Some are naked and others are wearing bathing shorts.

A couple of men pass close to us, giving us strange looks while talking about some sort of investment portfolio.

The whole scene is so surreal I feel as frozen as Nathan.

Although he’s not frozen so much as stuck.

I can feel his arm shaking with unspent tension and barely restrained rage.

When I turn to look at him, his eyes are still on me, and I see them shutter and close for a second.

When his foot takes a step backwards, I know he’s about to usher us out of here faster than it’ll take for me to refuse.

Without thinking, I grab his arm and wrap it around my hips.

I feel his rushed exhale on my cheek but ignore it as I settle a little more into his embrace, ignoring what his skin on mine does to me.

My heart is like a drum sounding for a coming battle.

I force a flirty little smile onto my lips and count my breaths to seem relaxed and at ease in Nathan’s arms. Hard to fake when I’m anything but.

Especially when Death’s assistant is as stiff as one of the surfboards I see drying against the side of the house.

“You finally decided to join us.” A feminine voice startles me, and when I look at its source, my eyes have to climb and climb and climb to meet the dark blue eyes perched atop mile-long legs and the hills created by her prominent bosom.

She’s got long, silky black hair, a full mouth and a pert nose.

I don’t want to say I hate her instantly because, damn it, I’m a feminist and women support women, but there’s a voice inside my head that I struggle to muzzle.

That voice is raging at the Barbie-type form this person has on display.

She’s wearing the tiniest bikini I’ve ever seen, and I suddenly don’t feel so naked anymore.

Can I hate-mire her? Is that okay in feminism?

I really hope she’s got an awful personality.

At least then my instant dislike of her would be reasonable.

I realise that while I’m blatantly ogling her, she hasn’t spared one glance for me even though she’s standing so close I can smell the ocean brine and the sun on her golden skin.

No, her blue eyes are devouring Nathan instead.

There’s distrust and hate in them, and if I’m reading it correctly, I’d say there’s also some lust mixed up in it all.

She confirms my suspicion when her hands snake down Nathan’s torso, leaving strange marks on his shirt and a burning fire in my stomach. I look up at my friend, and his face reveals nothing.

“What?” she insists when he lets the silence grow uncomfortable. “Nothing to say? Weren’t you the one cursing us for what you’re clearly enjoying yourself now?”

“We came to see what all the fuss is about,” I tell her, sick of her attitude.

“You let her talk for you?” She curls her lips in disgust.

With Nathan still too quiet, I don’t dare break out of the stupid character Atys moulded me into.

I turn around in his arms and run my hand up and down his torso—partly to erase that woman’s touch on him.

“I do whatever he tells me to,” I answer, making sure to lower my eyes slightly as I bite my bottom lip.

I feel sticky, and yet my chest warms at my own words. At the insinuation behind them.

Impossibly, Nathan stiffens further and, my head arriving at his throat, I hear the distinct sound of his gulp.

My eyes run to his. His shock, and further than that, the heat hiding deep beneath his dark irises, sparks an inferno inside me.

When his eyes dip to my mouth, I nearly whimper in a reaction so unlike myself it keeps me in check.

I’m thankful for that unexpected self-control when I turn around to face the woman and see that we have gathered a lot more attention.

I guess that part of the plan is going well enough.

She glares at my proprietary touch on Nathan, and when the blue of her irises finally hits me, so does a deep cold.

My breath struggles inside my throat and goose bumps spread like dread on my skin.

I suddenly feel lost and alone. Like the sun has abandoned me and I don’t know up from down.

My legs soften, but like a fish on a hook, I stay upright thanks to Nathan’s hold tightening around me.

“Enough,” he grinds out, forcefully dragging this woman’s eyes away from me.

When she looks at him, I can breathe again.

The sun is back to its soft hues in the darkening sky, and I feel alive once more.

I shudder, utterly unable to hide this reaction from her.

In the corner of my eye, I see her smirk and am suddenly glad to have disliked her at first sight.

What a horrible presence she has. With a start, I understand what that was.

She’s part of the Blue Depths Crown, so when she looked at me, I felt like I was at the bottom of the ocean.

Cold, dark, dangerous. Without thinking it through, I curl up against Nathan’s body, soaking up its warmth and steadiness.

“Oh, it looks like this one’s got attached.” She sneers. “You have a lot to learn, my friend.”

“We are not friends. Leave us.” Nathan’s voice thunders across the garden, and the greedy gazes that were trying to be discreet are now fully on us.

Many faces are frowning, looking back and forth between us.

I am not sure why, but I can suddenly feel danger pressing down on me.

Whether from his clear rejection of someone in their Crown or from his protectiveness, I don’t know.

Instinct screams at me to shift their focus and the narrative being written despite us.

“I’m not sure I want to play with her tonight.

” I pout, moving away from Nathan. “Hate-fucking has never been my thing.” I shrug at the baffled crowd.

Everyone is silent and I’m terrified of having miscalculated.

What if the humans here don’t get to choose?

Rage burns down my throat at the thought, and I’m about to either run out or start a fight when I feel Nathan’s big palm on the back of my neck.

“Stay here, love. There will be no hate-fucking tonight.” He pulls gently and I stumble back against his body. His arms wrap around my middle almost tenderly, making all the screeching and screaming in my head come to a halt. I am safe again.

“No?” I ask, tilting my head to look at him. I cannot read his expression, but his arms tighten even more around my body.

“No.” He winks, a playful smirk on his plump lips.

“I’ve never been that good at sharing my toys.

” His voice is a grumble that echoes through my body all the way to my curling toes.

This is pretend, and I’m glad it is, but boy is he convincing.

So convincing that a few laughs rumble around us and tension lifts from the assembly.

I hold back my relieved sigh and focus back on the female’s face. It’s all tight and red, and a petty part of me rejoices at the sight. She sneers at us and turns around, quickly finding an eager man to shower her with the attention she so clearly desires.

I want to relax in his embrace but know this isn’t the space for it, nor is it real.

Since meeting Nathan, all semblance of normalcy I’d fought so hard to create in my life has vanished as quickly as the sun in winter.

Then, I had to be careful of everything that could harm me, but I just had to blame poor luck and distract myself with a good book.

Now, no distraction will work on the fact that there are people out to kill me, and there are beings calling themselves Origins more powerful than I ever dreamed could exist. And I am still not sure what Nathan’s intentions are.

He clearly wants to protect me, there’s this thrilling electric current between us, and our goals seem to match for now, but they won’t always.

As Death’s assistant, I expect him or his boss to come for me sooner or later. And for it to stick this time.