Narcissism peeked from a corner of her awareness. More self-assured by the moment, the fiend prowled through the corridors of her mind. Soon, it brimmed with possibilities. To win the heart of a beast…was there a more ultimate conquest? To crush his heart afterward… The demon grew positively giddy.
No. She would rather kill Brochan than work her wiles on him. Fluffy couldn’t dine on his poisonous immortality. What’s more, Viola didn’t want to win and crush him. Which she could totally do. If she tried, even a little. He wasn’t worth her time. He planned to lock her up.
A shudder racked her. Why not confess the truth? What harm could it do? “Your brother was weeks away from a true death. Without my aid, thank you. When I took his immortality, I altered his fate and actually prolonged his life. I did you both a favor. So. I’ll hear your thanks now.”
“You’ll hear my thanks. Now.” Flash. He appeared directly in front of her, glaring as he clamped a big, callused hand against her throat. The tips of his claws rested against her skin, and her pulse jumped. He held her weapon at bay with his other hand.
Of course, he’d doubted her. Why wouldn’t he? They were foes of circumstance. The very reason she hadn’t tried to explain her motives before this.
“You would say anything to save yourself,” he growled.
“Yes ,” she admitted, and he blinked as if startled. “But truth remains truth, regardless of your acceptance or rejection.”
“How convenient for you, then, that this particular truth can’t be proven.” He tightened his grip on her. “McCadden loved you, and you betrayed him.”
Had the Sent One truly loved her? Maybe. Had he tempted her to spare him, to fight side by side and change his fate another way? Definitely. Every male she’d ever charmed had tempted her to show mercy. Viola might be a wee bit self-involved, but she had a lot of love to give. Just ask Fluffy. So, always before she siphoned someone’s immortality, she offered a loyalty test. A lone question with a single correct response. Throughout the years, she’d heard only wrong answers.
“Countless individuals have loved me,” she said, lifting her chin. “Should I cater to them all?”
Brochan caressed his thumb along the side of her throat, leaving a trail of warmth. That heat spread, drawing shivers. “Do you feel a shred of remorse, goddess? I bet you’d harm my brother a second time if given the chance.”
No need to ponder her reply. “You’d win that bet.” To save Fluffy, she would do anything to anyone at any time.
Again, Brochan blinked, her honesty a surprise. He squeezed her throat, just enough to constrict her airways, and hissed, “Perhaps I should give you to my comrades. They’re coming for you, and they crave your blood as much as the key. Perhaps more so.”
The others had resurrected too? How could that be?
Desperate to process the information, Viola braced to flash, the perfect destination in mind. A land for those on the run. He’d never be able to find her. Then the ramifications of his words registered, and she planted her feet, staying put. Maybe she didn’t need to evade Brochan, after all. Perhaps she should stay with him, using him as a shield against the other winged Fallen Ones.
She would let him imprison her until she decided to ditch him again.
A mother must sometimes suffer for the health and wellbeing of her child.
“Fine,” she said with an exaggerated sigh. “I’m convinced. I’ll go with you. But only because I’m so generous. Just know I expect unparalleled living quarters. Pure luxury. Also, I get to feed my baby without any more interference from you.” Too tired to follow as usual, Fluffy awaited her at their current hideaway. “The nonsense stops now.”
His gaze all but spit fire. “Be thankful I allow your pet to take its next breath, goddess.”
She bristled. “How dare you? He is my child. And my terms are nonnegotiable, beast.”
“And yet you’re coming with me, never to see your devil-dog again.” He squeezed her wrist until she mewled in pain and dropped the blade. Not because she had to. She didn’t—for real, she didn’t. She could hold on forever if she wanted. Keyword: if.
She would rather mount a proper defense. Except, he wound both of her arms behind her back before she moved an inch, trapping her body against his.
She gasped as her breasts smashed into his chest, her nipples rubbing her dress with every ragged breath. Heart flying at warp speed, she captured his gaze. In unison, they stilled. He breathed heavier. She breathed faster. Long black lashes framed those stormy irises. An array of freckles dotted his nose.
How adorable was that?
Adorable? The man threatening to pass her to others for torture? She sneered. “Release me, Brochan. Immediately! I’ve changed my mind again. You aren’t worthy of my company.”