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He continues ascending the staircase like my assaults are nothing more than an annoying gnat buzzing around him.

“I hate you! I fucking hate you, Grayson!”

“Another lie tumbling from those pretty lips.” His voice is warm and smooth now. Such a contrast to the murderous bellow that echoed in the tavern before he sliced off that man’s hand.

How can he slip so easily from one mask to another? It was only moments ago when he threatened an entire room with a treacherous display of authority and now he is back to playing his games with me, like what he did to that man will have no consequence.

“It is not a lie,” I mumble as a fierce pang of lightning shoots through my skull. My pulse pounds in my head with each step Grayson takes and I have to squeeze my eyes shut to keep from moaning out loud. The last thing I want him to know is that I’m hurting from my own stupidity.

I let him get the best of me with his pointed words. Now, I’m upside down, completely at his mercy, feeling like I might puke at any moment.

Keeping my mouth shut for fear that one more word may be the end of my ability to keep my dinner from spilling out, Grayson’s steps no longer bounce from his ascension.

We’ve made it to the second floor. He takes a right down the hallway and I note we’re passing several doors until he stops at the very end.

A click sounds as he turns the doorknob and he has to shift sideways to prevent himself from knocking my legs or head against the frame.

How kind of him . I roll my eyes.

My chest hurts from where the Serpent’s Key’s edge presses into it and as I try to adjust myself, Grayson’s other hand comes to steady my back before he kneels and finally sets me on the ground.

“You survived,” he muses and maybe it’s the alcohol running through my veins or just the pure disdain I have for the male, but I shove him hard in the chest. So hard that he actually takes one step backward.

But only one. Dark amusement flashes in his eyes and his lips curl into a feline smile.

“Bastard!” I scream.

Then I unleash myself on him.

In a flurry of chaos, my open palm stings from the contact I make with his face. A guttural snarl rips from his throat, but I don’t stop. Not even as I witness his eyes shift to a wild hurricane of deep blues and swirling silver.

I shove his chest again and slam my fists into his rock-hard stomach to no effect. He just stands there, taking it and it makes me rage even more.

“I hate you!” I scream from the deepest part of my soul. “You’ve taken everything from me! Everything! And now you think you own me? Like I am some pet to be collared!” I punch and slap him until my hands are raw from the contact they make with his bandolier and firm chest.

My breaths are ragged and my shoulders start to slump as my arms feel heavy with every strike I make against him. And he continues to stand there, making no move, but I know he’s just biding his time.

I broke one of his rules. Repeatedly. And there will be consequences if his display downstairs is any indication of the wrath he will unleash on those who do not heed his commands.

Exhausted from my own rage, I finally stop. My dark hair falls from my face as I look up at him and there is a new mask in place. One made of pure stone, unreadable even for the most skilled witches from the Dark Moon coven.

Of all the versions I have seen of Grayson Tyde thus far, this one scares me the most. My hand instinctively moves to the pommel of my dagger and I unsheathe it, raising it between us. He glances down at it and steps toward me.

I step backward, and when he follows me, I jut out my dagger to strike his belly—just as I promised him I would days ago.

He moves to the side effortlessly before taking my wrist in a painful grip forcing me to open my hand.

My dagger drops and he catches it then throws it into the wall behind me.

I hear the thud as the blade buries itself into the wood and there’s a subtle vibration on the air from the pommel swinging side to side.

Swift as a Northern wind, Grayson grabs me by the throat and shoves me backward until my head and back slam into the wall. From the corner of my eye, I can see my dagger right next to my face.

I swallow, and my throat works against his palm. He doesn’t squeeze, but he holds me firmly enough that I can’t move. My heart lurches as he looms over me and somehow it feels as though I have the weight of the entire ocean collapsing my lungs.

His pearly white teeth flash as he brings his face close to mine. “You are insolent, Rowenya Stone, and I have half a mind keep you locked away in this room.”

Stupidly, I buck against his hold desperate to be out of his reach. Desperate to hear anything but his voice. He presses himself against me, pushing me against the wall, and I hate how I can feel all the firm planes of his body. Hate how my own body reacts to his.

“You are wicked,” I whisper, the edge of my lip curling up.

“Would you rather I let that man keep the hand he touched you with after he disrespected your wishes?”

I try looking to the side, but he grips my chin with his other hand and forces me to look into his eyes. I loathe every fleck of starlight reflecting in them that reminds me of the heavens dancing across the sea. For their beauty is false. Just one more facade to draw me in.

“You do not get to be judge, jury, and executioner, Grayson. And you certainly do not get to claim me as yours when I would rather plummet to the bottom of the Aelynthi Sea than give myself over to you.”

“Oh, but you are mine, Little Pearl. From the moment you stepped onto my ship, I have possessed you, body and soul. For I see all the ways you look at me. Even now, I can feel the heat between your legs.” He presses his thigh against my sex and cruel desire blooms low in my belly.

“I see the way your breath catches in your chest every time I look your way.”

I still as Grayson buries his face in my hair and breathes in deeply. “I could smell your lust for me all the way across my ship. Here, it fills this entire room.”

“I could never be attracted to you .” I bristle.

“You are exactly as everyone claims you to be—an evil male rotten to your core. You kill for sport for the sake of feeling some sense of power over others.” I push forward against his hold on my neck.

“You incite fear to feel better about yourself. You killed innocent men on that merchant ship to exert control. To show your men and the rest of the world that we are to submit to you or the consequences will be dire. There is no good in you, Grayson Tyde. You are poison .”

He flinches. The stone mask slipping just a fraction.

“You know nothing.” His whisper comes out on a ragged breath and some small broken part of me wants to know what his words mean. But I remain silent.

A rush of cool air skates over my skin as he releases his hold on my neck.

He turns his back to me as he runs a hand through his dark strands and exhales.

I watch as he comes undone. His shoulders round forward and even though his large body still takes up so much space in the room, he appears smaller.

It makes my heart ache beneath the cage of my ribs. My feet carry me a step forward, acting of their own volition.

“Tell me, then. Tell me why you killed an entire ship of men who waved the white.”

His long dark lashes fan out, casting a shadow over his cheeks in the lantern light as he peers over his shoulder. He stares at the ground, unwilling to look at me fully.

Holding my breath, I wait as his lips finally part and his eyes flick up to meet mine. “It was a trafficking ship, Rowenya.”