I took a shaky breath, feeling dizzyingly close to the divine. Samael seemed like a force of nature caught between Heaven and Hell, and something in my brain couldn’t stop trying to work out which it was.
His wings were still out, sweeping down behind him. He brushed his finger down the side of my face, and his touch sent ripples of pleasure over me.
“You lie to me.” His voice was rich, silky, and I nearly missed that it was basically a threat. “That is a problem.”
I reached up and touched his perfect face, those sharp cheekbones. “But your dream says I’m important. Maybe I’m supposed to lie.”
My gaze slid down his body, and I took in the river-soaked shirt clinging to his powerful muscles. Holy hell. Everything about him was dangerous.
He closed his eyes, and I saw his jaw clench, like he was trying to master control of himself. Then he turned, and started to walk away. Oddly, I felt his departure like a pain in my chest.
I found my hand shooting out, and I grabbed him by the bicep. When he turned to look at me, his expression was scorching.
I breathed unsteadily. “I liked our kiss earlier.”
Maybe I lied to him a lot, but that wasn’t a lie. It should be, but it wasn’t.
Kissing him was pure sinful pleasure, and pretending otherwise was lying to myself. Maybe I had to make him vulnerable, yes, but I also wanted to feel his mouth on my skin. As luck would have it, these two goals seemed to be entwined.
His jaw clenched, fiery eyes piercing me. “You ran from me, terrified.”
“Yeah. But I liked the kiss. You’re …” I cleared my throat, completely unsure of what to say. “Confusing.”
He frowned at me, his body completely still. I realized I was still gripping his bicep, and he was staring at me with his head cocked. “When we were on the ship, there was an aphrodisiac in the air. Perhaps that affected us both.”
“Oh.” I let go of his arm. Was that all it was for him?
As he walked away, he said over his shoulder. “Return to my room at once.”
I walked in heavy silence behind him.
35
Lila
As we walked through the hallways, no longer speaking, my chest tensed. His words echoed in my mind. Only the lust bloom.
If I couldn’t actually seduce him, maybe this wasn’t my destiny, like I’d thought.
It hurt more than it should have. I supposed no one liked to be rejected—even if your worst enemy was rejecting you.
But as we entered the ivory hall, with the moonlight spilling in through stained glass windows, I felt something tingle over my skin. The Raven King’s spirit? Samael stalked ahead of me like he owned the place, his enormous body silvered in the moonlight.
My beautiful, powerful enemy, striding through the halls of a castle that should belong to my people.
Watching him move, my heart started beating like a war drum. I wondered if the Raven King had built this hall, and maybe that was what was snaking up my thighs and into my belly. Telling me not to give up. It felt like a call to battle.
My gaze flicked up to the beautiful vaulted ceiling, the ornate bony carvings.
I was going to do everything I could to seduce Samael and to make him weak. I was here as a soldier of Albia, and a little rejection didn’t matter.
Going into battle meant you risked getting hurt, taking the blows. But in this battle, instead of armor, I’d be marching wearing nothing at all.
I could do this. I could seduce the Angel of Death.
Goosebumps rose over my arms as we walked under the impossibly high arches of the hallway.
Samael opened the door to his room and marched inside, cowl still shielding his face.
I’d have to give him the tease, the slow unveiling—the excruciating interplay between the hidden and exposed.
Samael pulled off his cloak. When he looked at me, the air left my lungs. It still struck me—a beauty so exquisite, it was like a knife in my heart. Why make a death angel look like that?
He pulled off his shirt. “You should sleep.”
Now, I could no longer remember my battle plan, or how words worked, or much of anything. Corded with muscle, he displayed the sculpted chest and abs of an angelic warrior. Dripping with the cold of the river, I stared at him, wide-eyed.
Completely unfair that he should look that way when I was trying to mentally prepare for battle. This was not a fair fight.
He was crossing over to a wardrobe, and I stared at his muscled back.
I closed my eyes, thinking of Alice, of the murdered women. Stay focused, Lila. This is all-out combat. This is war.
I bit my lip. "I wouldn’t mind a bath.”
The old bath trick, naked in his room.
His ice-cold gaze slid to me. “Fine, then bathe." A low, velvety voice with steel underneath. “I’m going to dress, and then interrogate my soldiers about the attempt on your life.”
I tried not to gape at him as he dressed himself in dry clothes.
I crossed to the bath, turning the tap to fill it with hot water. “Do you have any whiskey?”
He pulled on his cloak. “I don't drink alcohol.”
Of course not. He loathed fun of all kinds. And to my disappointment, he stalked out of his room.
Bollocks.
The war was not over yet, though. When he returned, I’d be ready. Finn had told me that Samael killed the servants. And if I learned for certain that he’d killed Alice, I’d kill him myself. And that meant I had to make sure he was properly vulnerable. Seduced.
Steam curled from the bath, and I pulled off my dress. Naked and cold, I crossed to the wardrobe where my clothes were kept. Which underwear had made Finn blush crimson? The red knickers and bra, wasn’t it? The lace would just barely show off my nipples, so that seemed perfect. I took the underwear with me, and went back to the bath.
I stepped in, sinking into the warm water. In the heat, my muscles started to relax. Candles washed the room in ruddy light, and cast long shadows over the flagstones.
I still didn’t know why the Clovian soldiers had come for me, or how they’d known my real name. If they knew I’d killed two of their kind, why not take it up with Samael?
I slipped under the water, holding my breath. If Samael hadn’t come to find me, I’d be shattered at the bottom of the river now.
Images of Alice flitted through my mind—sinking beneath the dark water. She was always scared of the river, wouldn’t learn to swim. In my worst nightmares, she was floating in the water, headless.
I rose from under the surface of the bath, gasping for breath.
This was all temporary. The bath, the luxury. I couldn’t get used to it. Because before I knew it, I’d be trapped in a gilded cage, a slave to the evil angels. A complete traitor to my kind.
Once more, I slid under the surface, then held myself under the water as long as I could, until my lungs started to burn. This would be a reminder that death was all around me. That any day now, I could follow Alice. Feel the pain. Feel your lungs exploding.
Bubbles floated up from my nose, and my throat was tight, squeezing. My chest screamed.
Only when panic started to rip my mind open did I let myself come up for air.
I gasped, deep and loud, arms gripping the edge of the copper bath. Air filled my lungs, glorious air.
And then I realized I wasn’t alone. No, there was an angel in here. Leaning against the doorframe, Sourial was frowning at me. The candlelight danced over his bare chest—he wore his low-slung leather trousers, a cape, and nothing else.