Page 168 of Till Death

I clenched around him as he violently pounded into me over and over again, unaware of the magic pulsing through every place his body touched mine. Without warning, he withdrew and flipped me onto my back, kissing me with a desperate hunger, teeth digging into my bottom lip, as golden eyes met mine.

“Hello, Husband,” I purred.

Panting, he dropped his forehead to mine. “Hello, Wife.”

Gripping my hips, he pulled me closer, driving himself forward once more as he gazed down into my eyes. I reached up, running my fingers through his thick, dark hair. He found a steady rhythm, driving himself forward almost brutally, setting me on fire.

“Don’t stop,” I moaned, arching into him, muscles seized as euphoria built between us. “Don’t you dare stop.”

He paused, bending to whisper into my ear. “Keep making those fucking sounds, and I won’t have a choice, Nightmare.”

He thrust again with a newfound fervor, driving me up and up until I clenched the sheets in my hands, racing for my climax, and cried out his name, vision gone as sheer pleasure coiled around us, exploding as one.

I couldn’t sleep, not even within the comfort of Orin’s arms wrapped around me, not as he traced circles into my skin, our legs tangled together beneath silk sheets. If I closed my eyes and fell asleep, everything could change; he could fade back, and I wasn’t ready to let him go.

“What do we do?” I breathed, breaking the silence between us.

“Death is stronger because of the fear gripping the souls locked in his court. It’s not just that he enjoys the fear. It fuels his power. Intensifies it.”

I considered that for a while, lying in bed, matching my breathing to Orin’s while remembering all of my time with his father. I’d always held my tongue, though he’d tried to break me. Always denied him, though he’d pushed me. It was more than that, though. It was the challenge. That cat-and-mouse game. Maybe that’s why he’d chased Ro so relentlessly. Perhaps in his own twisted mind he did love her, but it was more likely that he was obsessed with her and the chase. The centuries-long game between gods, where humans of the world became the wreckage of the pursuit.

“He never came to you after you killed someone, did he?” I asked, mind wandering.

“No.”

“It was the same for Icharius Fern. He sent shadows to collect the souls, but he appeared every single time for me.”

“Of course he did,” Orin answered, following my thoughts. “He needed to make sure he wasn’t losing you to Life.”

“He’s been stroking his power within me since that first kill when I was a teen. Every month, sometimes several times a month, he called me. Not because he had to, but because he wanted to make sure the Life Maiden power remained dormant.”

“Exactly.” He slid his fingers into my hair as I twisted to look up at him. “But you’ve never been easy for him, and he likes your fight.”

“Has he told you that?”

“No. But I know what it feels like when you fight back. I’ve been on the receiving end of that glare, and maybe he and I are alike because, when I see it, I want nothing more than to challenge you. I can’t help it.”

“It’s true,” Death’s eerie, smooth voice said as he appeared, standing at the foot of the bed. “I do enjoy our little games.”

I gasped as Orin’s shadows covered me in fabric. Jerking upright, Orin began to shout in pain. I turned my bare back to Death, reaching for Orin, ready to reveal the full capacity of my power to save whatever agony Death had planned when the entire room fell to shadow and the bed beneath us vanished. The man beside me disappeared, though I could still hear him writhing in pain.

Chapter 65

Spinning, I tried searching the darkness for Orin, running one way toward his screams and then the other as they drifted away, until my desperation overwhelmed me. Until I didn’t know which way to turn. How to get to him. As if Death dangled him in front of me like a lure, playing the game just like Ezra had warned me he would do. Our night together became tainted. Stolen by Death.

A chill fell over me, gripping my throat as I jerked backward, realizing the fabric had changed into a backless gown, and I now stood in a spotlight on a black stage, staring into the eyes of an audience so vast, I couldn’t see the fading edges. Front and center, down below, just before the rows of souls, Death stood, his fingers steepled and pressed against his lips as he stared with delight.

Then the screaming started again.

Orin.

To my right, locked in a familiar golden birdcage, lying on the ground and writhing in pain lay Orin. I tried to move, to get to him. Touch him. But I couldn’t. My feet were stuck to the stage.

Death’s laugh silenced the restless crowd, the fear palpable among the thousands and thousands of souls. Those dark features were narrowed on me, the challenge sitting between us as he lowered his chin. “Dance, Deyanira.”

I didn’t let the surprise of his command show, though I felt it in my stuttering heart. “Respectfully, go fuck yourself.”

His response was almost giddy. “Sometimes you can be so predictable.”