Page 34

He made me feel seen when I never felt invisible.

Made me feel special when I never felt ordinary.

Made me feel so much when I thought I could only feel so little.

He licked his palm and smeared the head of his dick before he guided himself inside me, watching my reaction to him like I’d never taken it before.

He sank slowly, filling me to the brim before most of his shaft was sheathed in my warmth.

Then he anchored his hand in my hair like I might try to escape his hold, and he rocked into me, bringing life back into my cold body, chasing away my despair with his possession.

We lay in bed together, sometime in the middle of the night, the fire slowly dying in the other room.

I didn’t care about the dwindling light or the cold that crept into the bedroom, because Wrath was enough to keep the sheets warm. His arm was hooked around my waist as he held me against him, half of my body on top of his, his lips resting on my forehead.

I was tired and could easily fall asleep, but I stayed awake because I wanted to enjoy this. I didn’t realize how much peace he gave me until it was taken away. Until I slept alone every night and wished he were there with me.

“If you were my father, would you have done anything differently?”

He said nothing.

“You hate him, but anyone else would have done the same.”

Still, nothing.

I pulled back and propped myself on my elbow so he couldn’t hide from me, so I could look down at his face beneath me.

His arm was tucked behind his head as he lay on the pillow.

Not a hint of rage showed in his eyes, just calmness.

“No…I wouldn’t have done anything differently.

But our deals were inherently different, and there was no way for me to have escaped the way he did.

Bahamut couldn’t undo the progress that your father had made.

But my request…could be undone with the snap of a finger. ”

“What was your request?” I whispered. What had he asked for? What was worth an eternity in the underworld?

His silence was his answer.

“Why won’t you tell me?” It wasn’t the first time I’d asked, and I suspected it wouldn’t be the last.

His eyes were past me on the ceiling, a haze over his gaze like his thoughts were somewhere else. “Because it’s too painful for me to speak of.”

“Even after all this time?” I whispered.

“It will always be too painful to speak of.”

“Well…you could show me.” He’d shown me my father in the past, when he’d challenged a tyrant for his kingdom and his revenge. There was no reason Wrath couldn’t do the same with his own past.

His eyes shifted to me and remained steady.

I waited, hopeful.

But he gave me nothing. “I took out my resentment on you, and that was wrong. I apologize.”

It wasn’t what I wanted, but it was something. “It’s forgiven.”

His eyes finally shifted to me once more. His hand moved deep into my hair and lightly felt the strands with his touch.

“Do you hate my father?”

“No,” he said quietly. “It’s hard to hate the man who raised you. It’s hard to hate a man I respect. It’s hard to hate a man who loves the woman I…” His fingers paused on my hair and his eyes remained somber, but something had halted his words. “…I care so deeply for.”

“Why were you there?” I asked. “When he was training me?”

“Because I want you to succeed just as much as he does. You’re great with the sword and your reflexes are sharp, but there’s always room for improvement. You focus so much on your hands and generating strength with your arms that you forget your feet—and your body will follow your steps.”

My hand moved to his chest, and I gently grazed his skin, feeling muscles so hard they were more like stone. “What duties kept you from me?” They had kept him away from me for an entire week when he was usually with me every day.

“I was collecting payment.”

“From people who made a deal like my father did?”

“Yes.”

“And you make a deal with anybody?”

“No,” he said. “Many men have sought my audience, but few have received my cooperation.”

“Why some and not others?”

“It depends on the quality of their soul.”

“Quality of their soul?” I repeated.

“Yes,” he said. “Not everyone is equal in that regard. Bahamut granted your father command of the dead because his soul was more valuable than almost any other. It was worth the investment. The same applies to everyone else. I won’t make a trade if I feel that trade is not worthy.”

“And what makes a soul valuable?”

“The person who wields it. A soul is like a garden, and the height of its vines and the fruit it bears depend on the person who tills the soil. It’s not about being good or evil.

It’s about strength and purpose, about accomplishment and power.

Your father was not only of noble blood, but he was ambitious and powerful and one of the greatest swordsmen who’s ever lived. That made his soul potent.”

“And how does the potency benefit you?”

That was where he hesitated, shifted his gaze away for a moment. “The specifics don’t matter. I just want you to understand that not every person who steps before me earns my aid. I’ve turned down more men and women than I’ve accepted. And this week, I had to collect payment from dozens of people.”

Now that I’d seen Bahamut in the flesh, seen him change from a man to a demon, I wondered if Wrath was the same. “Are you…are a monster like Bahamut?” Was the man in my bed just an enticing projection? “I saw him change. I saw him suddenly appear two feet taller with horns and talons…”

“No. Bahamut was one of the Covenant before he became King of the Dead.”

“The Covenant?”

“The beings who rule the underworld.”

“But you’re the God of the Underworld.”

“I’m more of a servant than a leader. If I were truly that powerful, then I would have left my post a long time ago.”

“So…this is who you are?”

“Yes. My appearance is the same as when I was alive. The underworld is home to all sorts of monstrosities.”

I was relieved that Wrath was unlike Bahamut. And if he were, I’d rather believe Wrath’s lie than know the truth. “What is your life like down there?”

“Work never sleeps.”

“Have you…had relationships down there?”

“No.”

“So, you’ve just been celibate? Or do you only sleep with the living?”

“I’m not celibate,” he said as he looked up at me. “And I told you I’ve never done this before.”

“I thought you hadn’t taken a woman to that island before.”

“I haven’t been with a mortal woman since I joined the underworld. My intimate encounters have been with others down below.”

My heart suddenly raced in dismay. “Have you been with others since we met?” We’d never outlined the expectations for this entanglement. We were supposed to sleep together once, but then it kept happening, and we never discussed the ramifications of that.

His eyes narrowed slightly—and he was angry. “You insult me.”

“I didn’t mean to insult you. We never actually talked about it?—”

“You’re the only woman I want, Xivin . All those down below are heartless traitors and narcissists. They’re a means to an end when I grow desperate. You’re the first woman I’ve actually wanted in three hundred and seventy-seven years. This is the first time I’ve felt alive since I’ve been dead.”

“I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“I won’t ask you the same question in return because I don’t need to.

I don’t need to outline the terms of our relationship because I feel the commitment between our hearts.

I spend every spare moment I have with you or watching you because you’re the soul that’s been taken from me.

You’re the joy that’s only been a memory these last hundreds of years.

You stepped on my shores, and my life was forever scarred by the marks you left on my heart.

” He didn’t raise his voice, but it felt like he did when he spoke so eloquently and so passionately.

He lifted himself on his elbow to meet my stare, his eyes ruthless and authoritative once more.

“You’re the only woman I want—and don’t ever question that again. ”

Wrath never left before I awoke.

It was noon when my eyes opened to the enormous man beside me, rivers of veins down both of his arms, his body a living mountain.

His presence in my life had made me forget my obligations.

Instead of helping villagers or spending time with Zehemoth, I was in bed with the sexiest man I’d ever laid eyes on.

The moment I was awake, he moved closer to me and kissed me, his big hand cupping my cheek.

It was such a nice way to start the day.

“I need to depart.”

A wave of disappointment struck me and nearly made me drown.

He could clearly read it in my eyes. “I’ll return this evening.”

“Can we go to the island?” I asked, wanting warm sand underneath my feet. Wanting to listen to the sound of the waves as they washed up on the shore. To know it was just the two of us and the tropical breeze.

He leaned down and kissed me again, this time harder. “Yes.” Then he pulled away and left the bed, and the second he was on his two feet, he disappeared—just like that.

I lay there until the sheets turned cold, until I had the energy to start my day.

I bathed and dressed and then headed to the courtyard, where I would ask Zehemoth to meet me.

Instead of meeting in our usual place, I took a short detour to the cemetery that housed my ancestors—the very ones who’d taken up their swords twentysomething years ago.

But I saw someone already there.

At Vivian and Lena’s headstone was my mother, and she bent down and placed a handful of white flowers at the base of the stone. Tied together with a stalk of wheat, the boutique was stunning, full of spring that we didn’t have. They must have been taken from the greenhouse.

I watched her remain on her knees as she stared at the names etched in the stone. Watched her mourn for someone she never knew. A daughter who had never been hers. A woman whom her husband had loved before her.

My mom was the most amazing woman there ever was.

I walked over and looked at the names that were still sharp in the stone when others had faded, like she had one of the stoneworkers recarve the material to make it stand out once a year. “You’re the one who leaves the flowers…”

She didn’t give a jolt in surprise at my sudden approach, either because she already knew I was there or because her thoughts were somewhere else.

She rose to her feet and managed to greet me with a smile, always happy to see me like my father was.

“It’s important to remember those who came before us. ”

I stared at Lena’s name—my namesake. “Who were they?” I hoped my mother would tell me the truth so I wouldn’t have to carry the lie, but I knew she wouldn’t.

“Rothschilds.” She turned back to the stone again.

“Lena must have been important since I have her name as part of mine.”

She stared at the headstone for a long time.

“She was. Still is.” A gust of air moved through her hair before she looked at me again.

She moved toward me and circled her arm around my shoulders as she guided me away from the cemetery.

She rubbed my back as she walked with me to one of the tall olive trees.

There was so much I wanted to say, but I knew I shouldn’t say it.

“It’s a beautiful day.” She looked up into the cloudless sky before she looked at me, her eyes having the same tinge of emotion my father often carried. “How about a picnic? Just us girls.”

I let her guide me away from the subject I wasn’t allowed to breach. I didn’t want to pressure her to expose a secret that wasn’t hers to reveal. But I wanted her to know what she meant to me, how I admired her for having nothing but love in her heart. “You’re amazing, Mom.”

First, she expressed bewilderment. Then a rush of emotion spread across her features, and a blush filled her pale cheeks. “What makes you say that, sweetheart?”

I gave a shrug. “I just don’t say it enough.”