Page 25 of The Flower of Death (Forsaken #1)

What Beautiful Boots

Death

The human girl is infuriating. How dare she spy on me. She is trying to learn more secrets, no doubt, to use against me. She wants to further humiliate me. She wants to manipulate a God. Well, it will not happen again. I will not fall for her trap once more.

I feel a light thud hit the back of my head.

What in the Duneyrr was that?

Reaching for my head, I rub the sore spot and look down. A small worn boot lays off to the side. I quickly cut my head to the girl. She has a giant smile plastered on her face with a foot missing its boot, clear evidence of what just transpired.

“Did you throw a shoe at my head?” I ask incredulously.

She starts laughing, hard . The girl clutches at her stomach, doubling over as her laughter flitters through the hall, echoing off the walls.

I spot a servant staring at us with her mouth agape, frozen with a duster in her hand. A growl escapes my chest, and the woman lets out a sound, similar to a newborn chick as she runs out of the hall. My furious eyes fall back to the mortal, laughing at my demise. I start to go towards her—Wait, no. This is her plan, she wants me to fall for her plan. I watch her laugh for a moment before turning around, resolved to leave. This mortal cannot manipulate me anymore.

I do not get far before another shoe hits my head with a solid thud and falls to the ground. I hear her cackling once more behind me.

Fuck this, I am killing her.

Spinning violently, I stomp toward her while she is laughing mischievously at me. I catch her by the throat and pull her close. “I have had enough of you, little creature. I am killing you, once and for all,” I growl at her.

“Do it,” the female says, challenging me.

“What did you say?” I cock my head in confusion; she should be fighting me. She should want to live.

“You heard me,” she whispers confidently.

I stare at her for a long while. Fuck, this female is insane. There is not an ounce of fear in her scent. Actually, she smells pretty good. I lean in and get a whiff of her neck. Grace smells incredible, her scent is stronger than usual. It makes my mouth water, and I swallow. I tighten my grip on her throat, and the female lets out a small whimper.

The noise goes straight to my cock, throbbing in response as I am pulled into a trance. I start thinking about her mouth on me, remembering how amazing she felt. The sounds she made as she choked on my length were a blessing to my ears. My cock is rock-hard now, begging for attention. How does she do this to me? I almost had her in the dining hall. It was a moment just like this. I was ready to kill the little beast, but I had the same visceral reaction to her. The mortal’s scent had my mouth watering as my thoughts turned unsavory. I could not keep my bloodlust under control as thoughts of biting into her pale throat raced in my head. I do not know whether or not I want to kill the little brat or fuck her pretty mouth. This human is going to drive me mad.

I look into her ocean eyes, and she smirks knowingly at me. I snarl in response, raw frustration slithering into my muscles at her blatant disregard for my power. Or perhaps it is for the frustration I feel at hers, growing stronger with every passing day she walks the dark palace. She pushes and pushes, testing my boundaries and asserting her witchy claim on me. Perhaps Hecate can tell me how to get rid of her spell so I can finally kill this annoying little mortal.

A dark smile pulls at my lips. Yes, I will visit Hecate alone and learn the secrets I need to finally end this female. I twist my neck, cracking the tension as my fingers tense around her pale throat. I have learned from the girl and the way she manipulates me, right before she takes my pleasure—the way she toys with me. No more. The little predator will become the prey.

I yank the mortal close, so our bodies are kissing like gentle lovers, her pupils have dilated as her chest picks up pace, pushing her pert breasts into me with every inhale. I lean my face in dangerously close, noting the details of her eyes as I bring my mouth before hers. I whisper into her lips, “You rise and rise like a delicate porcelain bird, but you are heading far too close to the heat of the sun, little creature.” Her warm breath is so inviting as it puffs into my mouth, I savor the way it makes my mouth water. “Except, I am no sun, mortal. I am shadow, made of ice and bone, and I await your fall with open jaws.”

I drop her into a heap on the marble floors and leave without another word, my pants feeling tight.