And he would never thrash a female, regardless of how much she deserved it. His gut had clenched just to see her struggling in the water, even though an immortal couldn’t drown to death.
“I’m not deranged. I’m pissed off to be treated this way.” Her language might be coarse, but her imperious tone still sounded like a princess’s. With her chin raised, she looked like one too.
Her outrage sat ill with him. There was a possibility—however minuscule—that she had no idea about any of this. Nïx might be using her as an unwitting pawn.
No matter. He’d still punish Kari for the past.
He grabbed her arm to teleport her again. They arrived back in the tower, dripping water. He released his grip on her—only to catch her when her legs buckled.
“Damn it, stop tracing me, demon!”
He stepped away, letting her drop to her knees. He shook his hair out and sluiced water from his skin.
She stayed down, pressing the back of her hand against her mouth to stifle her coughs.
At the sight of his mate in naught but tiny scraps of pink silk, he shuffled his feet apart to keep himself standing.
Though Kari had teased him in the past, allowing him a sliver of hope that she would be his, she’d never offered him a glimpse of her body.
His eyes drank her in, blood pooling in his groin. She was a touch slimmer than she’d been before, but still entrancing.
Her bra molded to her breasts and nipples, highlighting more than concealing. His fists opened and closed, the urge to knead her nigh overwhelming him. Cock gone hard as stone, he raked his gaze down her torso, then lower.
Gods almighty. The thin material of her panties clung to her, giving him maddening hints of what her sex would look like. His horns straightened as he imagined tonguing his mate, tasting her orgasm at last. . . .
He took a step back to see her from behind. Her panties had ridden up to reveal the taut cleft of her ass. He barely stifled a growl.
“Enjoying the view of my ass, demon?” She scrambled to stand.
He had to clear his throat before he could speak. “It’s adequate.”
“Then you’ll have no trouble tearing your gaze away.”
He faced her, daring her to say something about his swollen shaft, but she refused to look at him. “When were you born, female?” If he’d found her mere months ago, he would’ve still possessed his old looks, would’ve been a physical match for such a beauty.
She didn’t seem to hear him—or she was ignoring him. She backed up to lean against a wall, only to scream and stumble forward. Tears welling, she glanced wildly behind her. She’d brushed against one of the fire vines. The contact had left a burn on her skin, as if it’d been a flame.
“Those are fire vines. They cover the exterior of the tower as well, in case you’re stupid enough to attempt climbing down.”
Her fists balled, as if she were willing back her tears.
“I’m told the pain is intense, even for an immortal. You’ll sicken from that poison over the night.”
Misery radiated off her. Despite his hatred, he still struggled against his primal need to care for his mate.
So he recalled some of the last words Kari had ever spoken to him. As blood had streamed down his face, she’d said, “You almost look like a person now.”
Rage seethed. Punish her. His gaze darted. Perhaps she’d retained phobias from her previous life. “Do you still have a deathly fear of spiders?” Her shudder told him yes.
Ah, a tool to use against her. He waved a hand, conjuring a spinning wheel and a chair. “Harvest all the cobwebs in this tower and spin them into thread before dawn.”
She glanced from the wheel to him and back. “Are you joking? I don’t know how to spin.”
Using magic, he dragged down a matted wad of webbing from a doorway. As if an invisible person manned the wheel, the pedal began to move, the wheel to turn. Bits of the thick web attached to a starter length of thread. “Finish all of the webs before sunrise, or their inhabitants will return to wrap you in silk. Blood-meal spiders are quite large—and poisonous.”
Her face paled even more. “I’ll jump.” Her coughing started up again.
“If you want to meet my legions, all you have to do is ask.” Before he traced away, he said, “Take care not to prick your finger on the spindle.”
When he returned to the throne room, Uthyr awaited him.
—That could have gone better.— With his acute senses, the dragon would’ve heard everything. He probably knew as much of the castle’s intrigues as Sian did. —You believe she’s working for Nïx?—
“Yes, wittingly or not.” Pacing in front of his marble throne, he said, “My mate satisfies me not at all! She is senseless.” Kari had been one of the most intelligent beings he’d ever known. He’d expected the same of her in this life.
What a disappointment.
—Or she is bold. Demon, your mind is suffering from your change, and your thoughts are in chaos. If you mistreat her, she will come to hate you. Have you not even considered a fresh start with her? Forgiveness?—
“I’ll forgive my mate as soon as you shift back to a man.” Why the dragon refused to return to his humanoid form baffled Sian.
—It will not and cannot happen.—
“Precisely. I want revenge only. She deserves nothing more.”
—Immortals so love their vengeance.— Uthyr sighed, a flame gusting from his lips, scorching another wall. —But not often at the expense of matehood.—
Sian gave a bitter laugh. “Don’t you understand, dragon? Matehood is an impossibility.” He had once asked Rune, his closest friend, what having a mate was like. Rune had answered, “I get more happiness in one second of loving Josie than I did in seven thousand years of life without her.”
Sian had accepted he would never experience such satisfaction. At times he imagined that some other trickster demon had stolen into his body to replace Sian’s heart with a cold lava rock. What had once been fiery and alive was now crumbling and black.
“Even if I didn’t despise my female—even if she isn’t Nïx’s bait for my downfall at best and a spy at worst—do you really believe a fey that exquisite could accept me in this form?” When he’d signaled his interest, she’d sneered, You’ve got to be kidding. “Or survive in hell? Her kind don’t belong in Pandemonia.” The ash had made her cough after mere minutes here. “And how do you predict she’ll feel about me when I wage war on the fey?”
Sian had hungered for vengeance against Sylvan for ages, but Orion had asked him to wait till this Accession. Finally, that time had come. “I might as well get some sport out of my mate.” He’d made sure she could never finish spinning. Yes, he loved trickery and games, but in the end the jest would always be on him—he would never know a mate’s bond.
He traced to the terrace railing to survey his legions.
Uthyr joined him. Though each of the great dragon’s steps shook the terrace, he could move with a catlike grace when he wanted to, a boon whenever he used his other talent: chameleon cloaking to the point of invisibility. —I can give you counsel, friend, but I need to know more about your past. What made you hate her?—