Page 15

Chapter fourteen

A strid nibbled her dinner from Dimitri’s fingertips, and he smirked, all too comfortable in his victory. If the idiot thought this was all it would take to yoke her, let him. She finished the plate and when he stood from the oversized bed, she quickly moved to the center.

“Don’t look so frightened,” he said, slipping out of his embroidered jacket. “I’m weary from travel and the way you made me come in the shower… we’ll sleep tonight.”

The male was an infuriating enigma. He did as he pleased—killed as he pleased—without a second thought, but in this space, everything had a purpose.

Astrid imagined he would be careless, tossing his belongings haphazardly for the maids to tidy.

Dimitri neatly folded each article of clothing he removed before meticulously placing them in the hamper.

What is wrong with him?

Astrid banished the thought the moment it arose. He had a plethora of issues and none of them were her concern. The cold began to bite, and Astrid lifted her chin, announcing, “I need a nightdress and blankets.”

Dimitri raised a brow and climbed onto the bed.

His muscular shoulders flexed as he prowled toward her on all fours.

He leaned in, forcing Astrid to remain still.

The bed shifted under his hands on either side of her hips.

Was this how the war mongering Ledivites showed affection?

Her jailor said he was done fucking her tonight. Surely he would give her clothes.

His wings drew forward and encircled her, confining her in his warmth.

The backs of his first two fingers trailed down the front of her throat in a gentle caress.

They continued their descent, stroking between her breasts and hooking into the hem of the towel.

The fan of his dark lashes lowered, and he pulled her covering away.

“You’ll need neither,” he rasped.

Serpents, devour this arrogant male. Astrid shoved his wing and abandoned the towel he held hostage. The chilled floor met her feet, and she marched to his closet. If he wouldn’t provide her with clothing, she would make do with his.

“Come. You can sleep under my wing. I’ll keep you warm, neva,” he said casually.

She wasn’t curling up to him and she definitely wasn’t doing it naked. Her hand grasped the closet door handle just as the warning of Dimitri’s wings, rustling across the sheets, made her pause.

“Come to bed, Princess.”

Astrid turned to find him lying on his back with an arm comfortably tucked behind his head, watching her. One wing lay folded beside him and the other was stretched over her side of the bed. She recoiled instantly. There was no her side of the bed.

Nothing here was hers.

She stood taller and tossed her dark curls over her shoulder. The ornamental rubies arranged in the picks and combs throughout her hair twinkled with the motion. She approached his outstretched wing.

“Keep your boney hammock on your side,” she said, shoving the scaled edge of his grotesque appendage. It was like pushing a blanket, the membrane between the bones folded and creased.

A blanket lined with veins, she thought.

He withdrew his wing and Astrid slowly crept onto the bed. She pulled her pillow closer and lay at the very edge. He remained on his back and Astrid scrutinized his body. He was muscular and honed, unblemished and unscarred.

Her captor wasn’t a hardened warrior. His callused hands might have been earned by performing drills with swords, but this male had never seen a day of true battle. She vowed to be his first and final wound.

Astrid closed her eyes, feigning sleep. Time stretched.

The bitter cold sank into her bones as the night deepened.

Dimitri’s slow and steady breathing marked the passing moments.

She’d curled her hands under her chin for warmth.

The harsh winter chilled her feet and pinpricks needled her shins before she finally opened her eyes.

He’d moved since she’d last seen him. His head angled toward her and his wing draped across his body.

Astrid eased closer and lifted her hand to the large ruby at the end of her hair stick.

She turned it slowly, studying his relaxed features.

The soft click felt as though it echoed through the silent, expansive room.

She held still, not daring to even breathe.

Dimitri remained still, his breathing deep and even. Oblivious his death loomed mere feet away.

Astrid withdrew the stiletto dagger hidden in her curls and rose to her knees.

She crept closer. Her gaze lowered from the strong angles of his face to the smooth muscle over his chest. She would slaughter him, steal his clothing and boots, then steal a horse and be racing to her cousins before dawn broke.

Astrid’s arm rose and fell in a practiced move. Her fist met the chiseled muscles of chest. The thin blade slipped between his ribs, slicing his aorta.

Dimitri’s golden eyes snapped open, and his dark gift exploded from his chest, consuming her. Astrid screamed as the sensation of serrated teeth tore across her body in every direction, but the sound strangled in her narrowing throat.

She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t scream. The agony paralyzed her.

Dimitri’s wing flung out, knocking her onto her back. He was on her the next instant. His weight crushing her into the mattress. Dimitri pinned her by the throat and glared down at the ruby-tipped dagger lodged deep his chest. The attack on her soul stopped the moment he pulled the blade free.

Astrid gasped, drawing greedy breaths as she struggled beneath him.

Dimitri cruelly squeezed her jaw and lowered the bloodied stiletto to her face.

“Open your fucking mouth,” he hissed.

Astrid shook her head violently and managed to land a punch across his cheek. "Get off me," she screamed before biting down on his hand and aiming her next strike at his throat.

He flung her weapon with a malicious growl.

Astrid threw an elbow, narrowly missing his jaw as he roughly flipped her over.

The gray sheets pressed against the side of her face as Dimitri captured her wrists.

He yanked them over her head, securing them beneath the talon protruding from the top of his wing.

His hands spanned her waist as he moved lower.

Heavy thighs straddled her legs, and the length of his cock dragged over her ass.

His hard cock.

Astrid doubled her efforts to escape and turned her head to glare at him. “If you shove your cock in my ass, I will slit your throat to your spine!”

The unyielding planes of his chest pressed against her back and the heat of his body surrounded her.

“I wouldn’t shove my cock in your ass.” His dark laughter tickled her ear. “I would place it there. Slowly. Teach you to like it, my vicious neva.”

Every muscle in her body tensed as he shifted his hips, stroking his erection between her ass cheeks.

“I’m going to kill you,” she snapped.

Dimitri’s hand dug into her waist as he lifted off her and braced his weight on his palm on the small of her back.

“You’ve already failed, Princess. But I understand why you bargained for your hair now. I’ll be taking all your trinkets,” he teasingly whispered the last.

Astrid could feel his eyes on her rear. He took himself in hand and rocked forward, prodding her ass. She stiffened waiting for him to hurt her.

He leaned over her again, coaxing her apprehension with his steady pressure but not thrusting into her.

“Bargain with me. There must be something you want,” he crooned near her ear.

Astrid contemplated her situation. She was pinned beneath a brute who used his disgusting additional appendages to trap her. He would take what he wanted from her. At least this way she could have some control. Bits and measures to use against him.

Astrid wiggled, attempting to get the pressure off the tight ring of her ass. He pressed harder, making it sting, and Astrid stilled. She glared at him over her shoulder. “I want my own room.”

“No,” he answered with a chuckle. Astrid remained silent a moment as Dimitri trailed kisses over her shoulder.

“Do you see us as lovers in your demented mind?” she asked.

"Bargain with me, Princess, before I stop pretending your willingness matters.” He prodded her harder to punctuate his point.

Astrid gritted her teeth, needing something small she could exploit later.

“I am to bathe myself,” she said.

Dimitri lingered, his lips hovering over her skin so close she could feel his breaths.

“You may bathe yourself. And in exchange, you will give yourself to me—”

“Once,” Astrid interjected.

Dimitri adjusted his hips, and his cock rested between her cheeks again. He braced himself on his forearms over her and purred, “Each time you bathe yourself, you will give yourself to me.”

Astrid deliberated his words then added an additional stipulation. “And you will allow me correspondence with my cousins.”

“Begging them to save you will only usher them to their graves,” he said sweetly as he kissed her spine. “You will never be free of me.”

Astrid clung to her rage. She would shape his obsession into a weapon she could use against him. “Do we have a bargain?”

“We have a bargain,” he answered and lifted off her.

Astrid sat and rubbed her wrists. “Your boney talon cut me,” she hissed, healing the lacerations.

“You would be uninjured if you didn’t struggle,” he said idly as he opened the top drawer of his nightstand.

I wouldn’t be injured if you weren’t such an asshole, Astrid thought as she studied his chest. She’d struck his heart—felt the blade slide between his ribs.

The expanse of muscle over his broad chest was clean and whole.

His shadowed death magic siphoned her essence to heal him.

Which meant her next strike must be distanced.

She glanced away when Dimitri turned to her. He set a small, circular tin beside the pouch he’d carried in with her meal on the oak nightstand. He turned it over and three metal cylinders with flared bases fell into his hand.

“I’ll start you off easy,” he said with a grin.

Heat rushed to Astrid’s face as Dimitri arranged the devices in a neat row. They were each of different thickness, the smallest still wider than his thumb. He picked up the metallic container and unscrewed the top, turning toward her.

No, no, no. She knew exactly what that was. Astrid pulled further away. “You are not sticking that in me.”

Dimitri chuckled and circled the pad of his index and middle finger in the clear viscous fluid. “You’ll enjoy it if you’re prepared. I’ll enjoy your screams if you’re not...”

Astrid’s gaze shot to the phallic metal placed innocently on his nightstand. The second was twice the girth of the first and the third. It was nearly as thick as his cock.

“Come here and turn around, neva,” he instructed from the edge of the bed.

When Astrid didn’t immediately obey, he grinned and said, “I had these made especially for you since you don’t want anything I’ve used on my… ‘whores,’ I believe you called them.”

Astrid didn’t want the length of metal shoved inside her. She didn’t want him or his touch. He should be dead. Her dagger struck true, but there wasn’t even blood on the sheets. The vortex of shadows churning at the center of his chest saved him.

She silently weighed her options for the space of a heartbeat. The outcome remained the same whether she fought him or played into his stubborn fixation. He would claim her body. It was inevitable. With her bargain in place, she would at least be able to write her cousins.

Astrid swallowed her pride and crawled toward him.