Page 18

Chapter seventeen

A strid scarcely slept. Partially because of the metal plug her captor shoved up her ass and partially because when the morning came, she would be pierced.

Her ears, like most Fae, were looped in gold and adorned with dangling gemstones, but she had no interest in jeweling anything beneath her clothing.

Her gaze lifted to the degenerate sleeping just a few feet from her.

She’d bargain with him again. Astrid thinned her lips.

The Mothers only knew what he’d demand in exchange.

The cold seeped into her bones throughout the long night, but Dimitri remained unbothered by the chill.

The crescent of his dark lashes rested against his high cheekbones and a wing fanned across his waist like a sheet.

Astrid refused to give him another area to exploit. If he could withstand the cold, so could she.

Astrid flattened her hand to her sternum and relaxed the hold on her magic.

The vortex of shadows came into sharp focus.

She scrutinized its violent churning and wondered if the sharp, twisting mass was correlated to his hunger.

She would monitor it the next time he fed on her.

Learning her enemy was the only way she could devise a way to kill him.

She focused her power, and a golden haze glittered past her body. Dozens of starlit strands rose and looped back, stitching her soul in place. When Dimitri was gentle, his magic didn’t break the strands binding her soul. It left her weakened, but ultimately unharmed.

A soft tapping on glass drew her attention.

The sun had risen, but the rays did little to warm the room. Sitting on the frosted window ledge was a fluffy, white and gray cat looking in on them. Its melodic cry was muted from outside. It rose on its hind legs, pressing its nose to the pane.

Dimitri took a deep breath, and his wings stretched. Astrid shoved at his boney appendage before it encroached into her space. He glanced over and blinked at her before wiping his hand over his face with a groan.

Irritation shot down Astrid’s spine. Had he forgotten she was here?

The cat pranced in a tight circle as Dimitri approached the window.

He opened it and the feline hopped in. It purred happily as it walked in a figure eight around his feet, rubbing along his shins.

Dimitri glanced down and tapped his bare chest twice in quick succession.

The cat bounded into the air and Dimitri caught the creature.

He lifted the pet, allowing it to walk across his shoulders and it peered at her over his head.

“We’ll leave for breakfast when I return,” Dimitri announced before walking into his closet.

Astrid got to her feet and yanked the fitted sheet off his mattress in three tugs. She wrapped the damned thing around herself and stalked toward him. “I need clothes, shoes, and stationery. Paper and a pen to send letters to my cousins.”

“Keres will bring you clothing after you’re waxed and properly pierced,” he replied as he pulled on a pair of black slacks.

Astrid stared at his cat, who’d slung itself over his broad shoulders like a shawl. It looked perfectly content in its place, blinking at her with its blue, luminous eyes. She would never be so comfortable with her demented jailor. Astrid turned her attention back to Dimitri.

“I want another bargain,” she said, folding her arms.

Dimitri selected a shirt and grinned at her. “And what do you intend to trade?”

There was nothing he hadn’t violated but he seemed to want her active participation. “I don’t want your piercing. I’ll—”

“No,” he cut her off.

Anger flushed Astrid’s cheeks. “I won’t let you,” she said, stubbornly.

He chuckled as he pulled on a fitted topcoat.

The embroidering was subtle but there was nothing subtle about the way the black material hugged his muscular frame and emphasized his lean waist. He straightened the sleeves and said, “You will wear the metal I select for you, or I will have you pierced every morning, neva.”

The feline chirped at her unwanted pet name and Dimitri scratched behind its ears. “You are my sweet neva,” he whispered to the animal before lowering his face to it. He glanced at her between its gray ears and spoke like he was plotting her death. “She’s my vicious neva.”

“She won’t wear your metal,” Astrid snapped.

He moved toward her and Astrid stepped back when he brushed his wing in her direction.

“Get on your hands and knees,” he said, lifting his chin toward the bed.

“No. I want a pen and paper. You owe me letters. Paper that I’ve written on.”

A smug grin curled his lips. “I haven’t—”

“Consider it foreplay,” Astrid snapped before leaving him for the fireplace.

Dimitri didn’t pursue her. He affectionately stroked his white cat, and its gray tail swooshed happily. “Shall we find breakfast, Graymalkin?”

This fucking male. “Replenish the fire before you leave.”

A line furrowed between his brows. “Are you cold?” Dimitri asked, outstretching his wing. Astrid narrowed her eyes and remained still. “The only comforts you will find here, will be with me, Princess.”

“Your death is the only comfort I’ll find in you.”

He hummed his agreement and turned toward the door. “I welcome your attempts.”

The black stained door clicked shut behind Dimitri and Astrid stared at the smooth wood grain a beat. She paced the room, deliberating her next move. She needed information. There had to be a way to kill him. Everything dies, and that arrogant, winged asshole was no different.

The chilled wood floor bit into her steps until her soles went numb. Astrid stared down at her bare feet, then his bed. If he thought she was his belonging, she would extend his hospitality to the rest of his things.

Astrid let the silken sheet fall and stepped into his closet.

His clothing was neatly arranged. Too neatly.

Astrid leaned forward and scrunched her nose at the hangers.

Each article was spaced evenly. If she had a ruler, she would bet they were exactly an inch apart.

She shoved the closest jacket back and the metal screeched as topcoats piled together before his dress shirts bunched behind them.

He could hurt and demean her, but he wouldn’t break her spirit. Astrid flipped through his dress shirts selecting a black one with sapphire blue embroidery. She yanked its matching jacket free, leaving the hanger to jut out of place with the other tightly-packed articles of clothing.

Armed with her new outfit, she hurried into the bathroom.

Fates, she needed to get his tapered, torture device out of her ass.

She laid her stolen garments on the counter and gingerly felt the flared base.

Her fingers hooked beneath it and Astrid gasped as it moved inside her.

The pressure made her painfully aware of how empty her pussy was, and she strangely wondered how it would feel if Dimitri filled her there as well.

Mortified, Astrid banished the intrusive thought and quickly removed the metal that invaded her.

She cleaned herself and eyed the shower.

Washing his touch away entirely was tempting, but she’d bargained to bathe herself.

She wouldn’t waste what little time she had away from him when she could force his separation upon his return.

Astrid tugged on his dress shirt. There were large slits in the back for his wings that allowed a breeze to dance across her ribs.

Even his clothing tormented her. Astrid’s gaze lifted and her reflection stared back at her.

Dimitri’s shirt swallowed her, the end of it stopping mid-thigh.

She donned his jacket, and the sleeves ended inches past her night-streaked nails.

She exhaled and shrugged out of his jacket before venturing back into the bedroom. She went to Dimitri’s mangled twin swords and hesitated for a moment.

Astrid took a breath. She couldn’t damage them anymore than they were, and she needed her hands to defend herself.

Decided, she carefully lifted the less ruined of his two swords and sliced several inches off the end of the jacket sleeves. It cut effortlessly and Astrid paused to admire the blade before putting it back, exactly as it had been.

She returned to the bathroom mirror, and in it, inspected the elaborate topcoat.

It was a beautifully crafted piece of tailoring.

She rolled the cuffs of the dress shirt over the raw edges of the topcoat and clipped her lotus belt in place.

It cinched the clothing tight at her waist, giving her the silhouette of a dress.

The door clicked and Astrid turned. A female entered.

Her wings were lighter than Dimitri’s. Where his wings seemed to be framed in black bones, hers were an ashen white.

Against the gray membrane, the complementary blotches gave her wings the appearance of snow on granite.

Astrid loosened the hold on her magic and the golden haze of the female’s soul shone through her brown skin.

Astrid’s gaze lowered to the small hardcase duffle in her hand and seethed. “Get out.”

“Lord Dimitri wants—”

“I don’t care what he wants,” Astrid snapped. If this bitch came any closer, Astrid would tear her soul from her arms and legs and toss her in the snow.

The female exhaled noisily and met Astrid’s eyes. “None of his playthings last more than a week. Lay down and stop making this harder than it has to be,” she said, setting the satchel on the bed.

“You won’t last the hour if you don’t leave,” Astrid hissed.

The female removed chunks of raw gold and a tray of needles, then arranged piles of precious gems. She narrowed her eyes.

“Let me explain, since it doesn’t look like you’ve grasped the severity of your current predicament.

Lord Dimitri wants the hood of your clit pierced and to have you fitted with gold.

I know what you are and if your gifts worked on him, he’d already be dead,” the female said.