Epilogue 1
Cat
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a chance to sit in front of a mirror and do my makeup.
The death mask was the first thing to go.
It had left a stain on me, visible to death gods ever since that cursed Halloween party, but now I was a god too, I could peel the edges of that stain from my face and wipe it clean.
I kept the hair, though. A permanent style that never needed bleaching or root touch-ups? Sign me the fuck up.
It was bittersweet, though. To sit at the vanity in my room in Death’s newly restored castle, to take time over my makeup, curling my hair, dressed in a new pair of jeans and my new favourite shirt. To do it alone, when I’d always had Honey and Byron.
The parallels between today and the night of the party were impossible to ignore.
There was none of their bickering, none of Honey’s teasing and Byron’s sarcasm to make me laugh.
But I could hear my husbands down the hall, Madde singing an off-key opera1 and Miz and Tor arguing heatedly about interior decor in the hallway.
Apparently gold was gauche, silver was tacky, and black was too morbid even for a castle in the domain of the dead.
“I defer to your superior interior decorating skills,” Tor said with a heaping dose of snark. “What colour should the hallway be, O Mighty Decorator?”
“Charcoal,” Miz said after a moment.
“Which is vastly different to silver and black,” Tor drawled.
“Vastly,” Miz bit out.
Tor must have smirked or laughed, because there was a thud on the wall outside my room, and I grinned. The visual of Tor being shoved into the wall was clear, and the sudden silence told me everything else.
I finished my makeup with a deep lip stain and stood, grabbing a jacket from the wardrobe.
I was convinced my husbands had personally selected each piece, but none of them would admit to it.
Neither would they admit to stocking the fridge with my favourite foods, or turning my bedroom into an explosion of cute yellow ducks.
The domain’s magic, they said. Liars.
A shadow slid up my ankle, wrapping around my leg, and a sly smile crossed my face.
It had been four weeks since Violence dropped dead to the muddy banks of the lake in Rosalind Woods, and I’d spent the time recovering from expending so much magic, exploring my new magic, and breaking in every new bed and flat surface in the castle.
Some not-so-flat ones, too. Madde could get seriously creative with the right incentive.
All my experimenting gave me some fun new abilities. So I slowly slid my hand down my leg and grasped the wandering shadow, stroking it suggestively.
In the doorway, Pain choked out my name.
“What?” I asked innocently, getting to my feet.
“You know what,” he replied, tugging me towards him with his shadow. I went willingly, and then his hands were on my waist, the scent of leather wrapping around me, with just a hint of clove.
“Any more twinges?” I asked, smoothing my hands over his chest, where his heart sat safely behind his ribs.
“Wait, hold on.” A shadow spread over my waist and rose up over my chest. “What is this shirt?”
“Don’t change the subject.”
His brow furrowed as his shadows passed on impressions of my body. “Girly…pop?”
“Can you work out the art?” I asked, a laugh breaking into my voice.
“It’s… an exploding head? Oh, Girlypop.”
I beamed. “Bet you can’t guess who this was a gift from.”
“Madde,” he said instantly, his shadow encircling my waist above his arms. “And my heart is fine. No more twinges. It’s felt pretty normal for the past two days actually.”
“I—” The soft brush of a shadow cut off my words, and then he was kissing me, pulling me flush against him, hands pressing into my body, arching me against him.
My hands ended up linked at the back of his neck, fingertips tangling with his curls. I meant to warn him that his lips might end up stained too, but then the taste of him dominated my senses and I groaned, angling for a deeper kiss, clutching at his hair.
“You look so fucking hot right now,” he groaned against my mouth. “You’re always hot, but goddamn. Are you wearing perfume?”
“I am.”
“And sparkles.” He groaned, as if eyeshadow was the ultimate turn-on.
“If I’d known you loved sparkles so much, I’d have worn them every day,” I teased, kissing his bottom lip. “Would you like some sparkles, too?”
“Hell fucking yes I would.”
I grinned, heading back to my dressing table, and yelped when hands found my waist, lifting me at the same time I was spun, until my ass landed on the table.
A concealer tube rolled onto the floor, but that dark, hungry look was in Pain’s eyes—for the third time today—and I found a sudden lack of interest in makeup.
“We’re going to be late,” I pointed out.
“No one else is ready either.” He sank to his knees before me. Shadows wrapped around the zip and waistband of my jeans, tugging them down to my ankles. I sank my hands into his hair and gave up any pretence at complaining.
“I suppose five minutes wouldn’t hurt,” I mused, gasping when his tongue found my clit with fast, circling motions.
“Ten,” he argued, muffled, hands pressing into my thighs. “Five won’t be nearly enough.”
His mouth was insistent, enthusiastic, and my fingers tightened in his curls as sparks erupted through my nerve endings.
“Pain, slow down,” I groaned, wanting to appreciate every flick and curl of his tongue even though we really were going to be late.
“No.” He pulled my hips closer, spiking my temperature, my pleasure. It was always a delicious shock when that dominance came out to play.
“But I want—” What I wanted was smothered by a moan when two fingers slid inside me, curling as they thrust.
“We’re going to be late,” Madde yelled up the stairs.
Pain made a rumbly, displeased sound that shot lightning through my clit, and my hips shot off the dressing table, thighs locked around his head. If anything, it made him suck harder, lick faster, his fingers relentless.
“Pain,” I gasped, pulling his hair. A complaint he ignored with a low growl, and pushed me over the edge so fast that my body convulsed and I folded around Pain, shuddering through every rush of pleasure.
With a grin, Pain drew back and kissed my inner thigh, the inside of my knee. “So, can you make my eyes sparkly, or have you lost the use of your body?”
I shoved his head away with a groan.
“Come the fuck on,” Madde shouted, closer. “Or I’ll have to put everyone over my knee and spank your little buttsies.”
Pain and I locked eyes. Grinned.
“I need to get cleaned up now,” I said accusingly.
Dimples shone as his smile deepened. Unapologetic. “I’ll help.”
“No.” I slid off the dresser and gave him a look. “You’ll just use it as an excuse for a repeat performance.”
His hands settled on my hips, tingling warmth spreading across my waist as he stepped closer, until we were flush together. “I did say ten minutes if you recall.”