Page 17

I swallowed down my pride along with the urge to peel the fake skin from his face.

“I will marry you.” The words left my mouth before I could stop them, the mask of the obedient princess sliding into place.

I held out my hand, expecting him to make a blood bargain, but he just raised an eyebrow at it.

“As my wife, Lyra, your word is something I will trust. No need for magic to bind it. Your word is all I need.”

Every muscle locked as if my body understood the mistake that I was making a heartbeat before my mind did.

No.

The pull of that shadowy bond, faint but unyielding, threading through my chest like something that refused to break even as I crushed it beneath my own hands. My fingers curled into my skirts, nails digging into the fabric hard enough to tremble.

I would rather break his heart than bury him.

Helion made a low noise in his throat, almost of disappointment.

“You’d drown the world for him, wouldn’t you?” he said quietly, studying me like I was something already claimed. When I didn’t respond, he tipped his head back and laughed. “How disappointing. I was hoping you’d fight me.”

Helion exhaled, something dangerously close to relief slipping through before he caught it as he rose to his feet. I felt his gaze linger on me, but I refused to look up at him. Fighting would not get me answers.

Manipulative snake.

He reached his hand down toward me, and without hesitation, I placed mine in his. I could be manipulative too.

His fingers tightened around mine for half a second longer than necessary, as if he knew what I was thinking.

I had worn a mask my entire life. Rythos had been the only one who had ever seen the jagged pieces beneath and made me feel as though I wasn’t damaged.

I could wear it again. I would marry Helion. I would let him believe I belonged to him—for Rythos.

For the first time in my life, I would try to obey.

Helion would tell me how to save him, if I played along. And when he did, I would carve his heart from his chest and tear it into pieces while he watched.

“Let’s get you ready for our wedding,” Helion whispered. The emotion bleeding through his voice didn’t match the mischievous glint in his eyes. “He will be thrilled you’ve agreed.”

Distrust slithered beneath my skin, cold and instinctive. But I did not look away, nor did I let my mask slip.

Before I could ask who he meant, Helion stood in one fluid movement and looked down at me, his expression unreadable. “I’ll see you at the altar, Princess.”

Then he walked to the door and knocked three times, each sound sharp in the stillness. The lock gave a soft metallic jingle before the door opened.

Helion stepped through without looking back, and the door closed behind him, leaving me alone with the weight of what I had agreed to.

I would marry him, though, I would be widowed the moment I had what I wanted.

Chapter Six

Masquerade of Games

Lyra

Three women with white, opaque eyes dressed me in an almost translucent crimson gown.

They wore thin ivory slips over their narrow frames, their faces hidden behind ornate golden masks.

Narrow fingers prodded and turned me as they smoothed the gauzy material that flowed down my body in a waterfall before pooling in soft folds at my bare feet. The material gathered at my shoulders, secured by cool gold cuffs that pressed against my fevered skin, before plunging into a wide, merciless curve so deep my navel was bared and the swell of my breasts barely covered.