Page 15

His lips curved slowly, his composure cracking like porcelain until a wild grin split across his face.

It was almost beautiful, like the sun cresting the horizon at dawn.

But I knew better than to trust warmth from something that would burn me the moment I leaned too close.

“Careful, Princess,” he murmured, voice smooth as silk. “You’ll make me think you’re flirting with me.”

My lip curled in disgust as I slammed my fist into his nose. Bone crunched beneath my fist, and blood dripped from his nose. But it wasn’t enough. I drew back again, but my fist paused midair. He was staring up at me, eyes shimmering with something I didn’t understand.

“Why?” I asked, my fist pausing mid-swing.

“I need you to make a bargain with me.” He had the audacity to sound regretful.

“The last time I made a bargain with my captor, it did not work out well for me,” I seethed.

Helion dragged the back of his hand beneath his nose, black blood gleaming like spilled ink against his skin.

“Oh,” he drawled, examining the dark stain across his knuckles before flexing his fingers, “I’m your captor now, am I?”

I clenched my fist and took two steps back, sinking down onto the ground across from him with my back against the bed. My dress pooled around me like a glittering sea of broken promises.

“You stole me from my wedding,” I whispered, voice cracking despite myself, and I tore my gaze away from him. “Against my will. So, yes, that makes you my captor.”

Blood slid down from his split lip as he smirked, obscene against sun-kissed skin.

“If I remember correctly, you got on your knees for your last captor,” he mused, leaning forwards and tilting his head. “Will I be getting the same treatment?” he asked with a devilish glint in his eyes.

I copied him, arms braced on my knees as I leaned forward, his scent wrapped around me. Cinnamon laced with smoke, familiar in a way that made my skin crawl. “I will never kneel for you,” I whispered, my voice low and lethal.

His shoulders shook with a low, rich chuckle that rolled from his chest like distant thunder, and he dragged a hand through his hair, dark strands falling messily over his brow.

Gods, he looked almost delighted.

“Well, I do have something you want…” he said with amusement as his eyes gleamed with mischief.

“I don’t want anything from you,” I almost growled. “Except for you to stay trapped here forever.”

He drew his brows together and placed a hand over his heart, one that I wasn’t sure existed.

“Your monster is dying because you bonded him,” he said, mouth twisting as if the words tasted like acid.

That truth had been lodged beneath my ribs since the wedding, sharp and impossible to ignore. I had felt the darkness eating at him through the bond. Had seen the way death clung to him like a second shadow.

But knowing he was dying was not the same as knowing I was the hand around his throat.

My fingers went cold. The room blurred at the edges as Helion’s words sank in, slow and merciless.

Rythos had not simply loved me despite the curse. Our bond was dragging him closer to death.

“He would die for you so beautifully, Lyra,” he continued, as if the hollow pit in my chest wasn’t tearing wider to let helplessness pour through me.

“That’s the trouble with a male in love… They lack self-preservation.”

I pressed a trembling hand to the place where our bond still pulled faintly toward him. Still alive. Still reaching for me.

“I do happen to have a way to save him.” His eyes met mine, slowly and steadily. He knew exactly the kind of hope he was teasing me with, and it only made me hate him more. “If you agree to my terms.”

My teeth gritted together. He took the person I cared about most and weaponised it against me, forcing me into a corner.