Chapters (58)
- About the Author
- Title Page
- Imprint Page
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- Map
- Contents
- Prologue
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Acknowledgments
- Endmatter page 1
“No snide remark?” I asked, not bothering to hide my smug tone. “It’s all right. I know it’s an impressive one.”
“What’s impressive is how wrong you are.” He crossed his arms, his countenance once again carefully blank. “Regardless of your pedestrian attempt at dark magic, I’ll offer you a bargain in return. The length is negotiable, how we bind it is not.”
My face heated. Nonna said the Malvagi’s bargains almost always involved kissing—that once they’d locked lips with someone, that person lost their senses entirely. Always craving more, going so far as offering up their soul for another taste of the wicked sin they’d gotten addicted to. I didn’t know if all that was true, but I refused to find out.
“I’d rather die than subject myself to kissing you, demon.”
His expression held little humor as he took my measure. It was a slow, deliberate sweep of my body, my stance, the way I aimed his own dagger at his heart. If he looked at the bleached bones that surrounded us, he didn’t give them more than a cursory glance. When he dragged his attention back to my face, something dark lurked in his gaze, forged deep in the pits of Hell.
Chills ran down my spine, tingling in warning. This was not the kind of prince written about in fairy tales. There was no golden crown sitting atop his dark head, or promises of safety waiting in his sculpted, tattooed arms. He was death and rage and fire and anyone stupid enough to forget that would be consumed by his inferno.
“One day you might beg me to kiss you.” He stepped close enough for me to stab him. Heat radiated off him. Around me. A bead of sweat rolled between my shoulders, slipped down my spine. I shivered. He smelled of mint and warm summer days—so at odds with the darkness of his luccicare. “You might hate it. Or love it. But temptation will surge through those magical veins of yours, obliterating all common sense. You’ll want me to save you from the endless torment by giving you everything you love to loathe. And when I do, you’ll thirst for more.”
An image of him pressing me against the wall, the stone sharp as talons in my back, his lips soft but demanding as he tasted me, crossed my mind. My mouth went as dry as the bones in my summoning circle. I would sooner sell my soul than be with him.
“Don’t worry,” he whispered, his lips brushing the delicate skin on my neck. I froze. He’d moved so swiftly, I hadn’t even seen him take a step. “You’d need to be the last creature in all the realms combined for me to want you, witch. Even then it might not be enough to tempt me. What I’m offering is a blood trade.”
Twelve
Twelve