Chapter 29
Rule twenty-nine: Do not slay the party guests.
W e land on the outskirts of the party, and my heart just about jumps into my throat when I take it all in.
There are a lot of people here.
At least a few hundred individuals mill about the field, most with drinks in hand or small plates of food. The buffet tables overflow with food and beverages, and a band is set up in one corner of the field. A haunting melody echoes over to us, only slightly audible over the sounds of all the voices. No one has noticed us yet, and I’m grateful as I take a moment to remember how to breathe.
Sin’s hand rests on my lower back, but I don’t let myself lean into him for support. His fingers trace small shapes over my exposed skin, and I try to ignore the goosebumps that trail along the wake of his touch .
“You need to stop doing that,” I warn.
Sin only arches an eyebrow, letting his hand trail up my spine. “Doing what?”
I stiffen. “Pretending to be into me, so I’ll go along with your plans.”
There, I’ve said it. The blatant truth that is so obvious I feel like an idiot for not realizing it sooner. I’m too gullible, and the thought that I’ve just jumped into the arms of a new puppet master makes me want to throw up.
Sin is looking at me like I’ve lost my mind.
The party is still oblivious to us, and I try to make a graceful escape from this conversation. But Sin finds my arm first, spinning me to face him.
Oh fuck.
His tattoos are faintly glowing.
He glares down at me, taking a deep inhale before starting, “If I wanted to deceive you into going along with our plans, I could control your mind. So easily that you’d be begging for ways to help us.”
I frown, suppressing a shudder. “But you –”
“I. Fucking. Want. You.” His gaze burns into mine, and he says the words slowly, emphasizing each syllable before continuing, “Every time you talk back to me, all I can think about is you gagging on my cock, to shut you up. Every time we’re in the same room, I want to bury myself so fucking deep inside of you that you’ll feel me for days afterwards. I wanted you when I thought you were a Council whore. And now that I know you aren’t, it’s bordering on fucking obsession. The thought of someone else touching you makes me see red. I want you, and it’s driving me to madness. ”
The rest of the world fades away, and I gape at him, trying to remember how to speak.
Sin wants me.
I flush, squeezing my thighs together. He notices and takes another sharp inhale, his eyes heating.
“It’s a bad idea,” I note, swallowing. “With the prophecy and everything else going on.”
I want to fuck his brains out.
I want his hands all over me.
“I couldn’t fucking stop even when I thought you were a Fates-damned Council spy who was pining over that piece of shit, Leon. Believe me, kitten, I tried,” he says, glaring at me.
My brow furrows, trying to think of what Sin did when we first met. “You left.”
“Yes. And it didn’t work. All I could think about was whether you’d fall out of your fucking window again,” he bites back.
I open my mouth to argue that I didn’t fall, but he continues, “And when I got back, only to find Damien’s hands on you, I almost lost it. And then again, when he and Magnus were healing you. At that moment, I considered killing some of the few people I trust. I have tried to hate you, to make you hate me. Anything to stop this.”
The anger that laces his words does nothing to stop the fluttering sensation in my chest or the erratic beat of my pulse.
“So where does that leave us?” I ask, swallowing back my panic at the thought that protecting my heart from this man just got significantly more difficult .
Sin grips the nape of my neck, gently pulling me towards him. “I’ve tried fighting it, kitten.” His eyes search mine as if looking for any hint that I might want him to pull away. “But I lost that battle. I’m done fighting against whatever this is. I want you, and from this moment forward, I’m fighting to make you scream you’re mine.”
With those words, all rational thought is lost to him. It feels as though an electric current buzzes between us, and my eyes drop to his lips. Sin doesn’t miss the gesture, sweeping me up so his lips can reach mine.
“Well, if it isn’t the happy couple,” a man calls out before our mouths connect. The voice startles me out of our small bubble, and Sin gently sets me down as we remember where we are.
Our attention shifts to the man walking towards us. He’s well dressed, in a deep maroon shirt and black pants. His long black hair is tied behind his neck, and a black goatee gives him a devilish look. Immediately, I try to give the stranger a warm smile, remembering I need to make allies tonight. Sin’s hand shifts under the open back of my dress to rest at my waist.
“Artorix,” Sin greets. His voice isn’t warm.
At this point, I’ve decided that powerful men must have zero diplomacy skills. Likely because they’ve never had to work a customer service job in their lives.
That would explain so much.
The man pauses before us, taking my hand and bringing it to his lips. Sin’s tattoos start to glow a faint red. But instead of responding with a healthy dose of fear, Artorix laughs, delighted. He doesn’t release my hand.
“I see the rumors are true. Destroyers are very possessive of their mates. How quaint.” His tone is dripping with insincerity, and I yank my hand back.
He turns to me, leering at my body. “Artorix Parvignis, of the Underworld Realm. Council member for many millennia now. How do you do?”
Something about this man is giving off major slimy vibes, and it’s all I can do to keep the polite smile locked on my face.
“Vivian Ryans, of the Mortal Realm. Pleased to meet you,” I add, hoping I sound friendly.
Sin gives me some context, saving me from conversing further, “Artorix’s realm has been under Council rule for longer than most can remember.”
The underworld is ruled by the Council? I wonder if that has something to do with all the souls being used as slaves. I file away the information to ask Sin and Morgana about it later.
“Yes, so intrusive, that Council. Putting their noses where they don’t belong,” Artorix notes, sounding menacing. “Speaking of being where you don’t belong, Vivian, I recall seeing you not long ago at the Council’s Castle. You were with a very different Destroyer there. Getting greedy, are we?”
Sin’s hand tightens around my waist, and his tattoos glow brighter. Not good.
The man is trying to provoke me. I’m not sure why, but I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of thinking he succeeded. Instead of letting the party end before we’ve had a chance to make any allies, I leer at him like he did at me, only to look back at him with distaste. “I just know a better thing when I see it. Speaking of which, Sin, I think there are important people for us to meet with tonight. Shall we?”
Artorix’s face twists with rage for a split second before masking back to polite humor. “Such spirit, for a mortal.”
We walk away from Artorix, and Sin leans over to kiss the top of my head before whispering, “That’s my good girl.”
I feel his praise in areas I shouldn’t.
Artorix calls out to us before we’re swallowed up by the rest of the party, “Do be careful with her, Sin. Mortals are so breakable.”
I roll my eyes, and Sin looks ahead, his face giving away nothing.
The next hour is spent bouncing between party attendees. All are curious about how I ended up with Sin, and I become way too good at telling them about how I was supposed to kill him but that I fell in love instead. Honestly, I blame my romance novel addiction for how well the story is coming out.
Classic enemies to lovers. Easy peasy.
Sin leads us towards yet another group of emissaries when we are stopped by three stunningly beautiful women. All three have long wheat-blond hair and blue eyes that are so pale they are almost devoid of color. They each wear long white silk dresses, though there’s just enough difference in the cut that they aren’t exact carbon copies of each other. There’s a glow about them that reminds me of Damien, but their radiance only shines skin deep, as evidenced by the disgusted looks they give me.
I guess mean girls transcend the boundaries of space and time too.
Shame.
“Llayella, Gabrielle, and Rhiannon,” Sin greets them, but once again, his tone is cold.
Though apparently, the twisted sisters don’t mind. The one in the center, Gabrielle, turns to him with a seductive smile. “Sin. Such a pleasure to visit you in the Shadow Realm. You should have mentioned you were looking for a plaything. We could have helped you.”
The one to her right, Llayella, chimes in, giving Sin an eerily similar smile. “Truly, we would still be delighted to help you find someone more… worthy,” she adds, wrinkling her nose at me at the last word.
My spine stiffens, and the last one, Rhiannon, who hasn’t stopped staring at me, narrows her eyes. “She doesn’t look powerful.”
Thus far, Sin and I have been hinting at my having great power, but we don’t say it outright. There’s no use in giving the Council more information than we want if word gets out to them. Still, before now, most of our prospective allies have been intrigued, and most have walked away looking hopeful or impressed.
Why do I feel like these women may be an exception?
“I would wager she’s as weak as a mouse.” Gabrielle grins. “Sin, stop this madness and come dance with me,” she orders.
An unexpected bolt of rage fires through my spine, and I inhale deeply, trying to shove it back into the box where it belongs. Sin goes rigid but says nothing. Instead, he quirks an eyebrow at me to see if I want to handle this on my own.
At our lack of response, Gabrielle steps forward, moving to place her hand on Sin’s arm.
The bolt of rage becomes white-hot, and in an instant, my dagger is pressed against her throat, humming a faint purple before her flesh ever connects with Sin’s. “Touch what is mine, and I will cut your hands off and feed them to you,” I hiss.
There is some major Cassandra channelling happening, and I couldn’t be happier to have access to her memories. It is doing things for my badass bitch image.
Slay, Queen. I mentally cheer myself on.
Gabrielle freezes, her eyes widening a touch before scowling at Sin. “What is the meaning of this?” she demands, and her sisters reach for their own weapons.
Sin’s tattoos flare a deep red, freezing their actions before they ever touch the weapons. “I believe my mate just told you not to touch me.” He pauses to press himself more closely against my back, running his lips across my head before continuing, “ If she lets you live after the insults you’ve thrown at her, I suggest you leave immediately because I will not be so benevolent.”
“I – I – I’m sorry,” Gabrielle stutters, now looking at me like she’s terrified.
Her fear cuts through my rage, and I sheath my blade but don’t show them an ounce of remorse. We’re play-acting tonight, and that means Sin and I need to be strong.
“Leave. Now,” I demand, and the sisters don’t need to be told twice, as they run for the small section of the wards, specifically designed to allow them to apparate back to their own realm.
“Did I just blow it?” I whisper, now realizing I likely messed up a potential alliance.
“No, kitten, you were fucking phenomenal,” he growls against the top of my head, pressing me even closer to him.
“You weren’t really going to kill them, were you?” I ask, assuming he was just putting on a show.
I can feel him smile against my head.
“You wouldn’t,” I reaffirm, mostly for my own benefit.
Sin answers with a dark laugh, “You keep telling yourself that.”