Chapter 38 In Power and Play
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
IN POWER AND PLAY
The manacles bit into my wrists, sweet and familiar as old lovers.
The guards had been rougher than usual tonight, jerking my arms high until my toes barely brushed the ground. I considered apologizing to my young guard for breaking his nose, but decided against it. He should have known the dangers of restraining a wild thing.
I closed my eyes, savoring the anticipation twisting in my chest. Although tonight began the same as so many before it, it would end differently. I knew Valen wanted me, and I couldn’t deny a part of me wanted him as well.
Besides, I would take pleasure over pain any day.
This wasn’t because I was angry with Death. It wasn’t. Truly. Honestly, I should thank him—for helping me see what I’d refused to admit. I wouldn’t be the pawn in this divine triangle. I would be the force tilting the board.
Still, I was so angry with Death.
I could sense his attention, could feel the way his consciousness pressed against the boundaries of his prison. Watching. Waiting. Listening.
I kept my eyes closed, a soft smile spreading across my face. I would show him the kind of chaos a toy could unleash when she stopped playing by the rules fate had written for her.
The sound of approaching footsteps pulled me from my thoughts—measured, deliberate, each step calculated to inspire dread in whoever waited to receive his attention.
Valen’s footsteps, as familiar to me now as my own heartbeat.
But tonight, instead of the usual spike of fear and reluctant anticipation, I felt only a dark, eager pleasure.
I heard him pause at the threshold of my cell, iron hinges protesting as they swung open to admit the Blood God into my domain. I didn’t lift my lids immediately, didn’t rush to acknowledge his presence. Instead, I let him take in the sight of me—suspended, waiting, seemingly docile in my bonds.
When I finally opened my eyes to meet his, I let a slow, wicked smile curve across my lips.
“Husband,” I purred, savoring the word like spoiled wine, letting it roll off my tongue. “You kept me waiting.”
Valen stood just inside my cell, backlit by the torches in the corridor.
His face was half-shadow, half-firelight, the planes of his features sharp enough to cut.
He wore the simple black tunic and trousers he favored for our sessions, the fabric doing little to conceal the powerful build beneath.
His dark eyes fixed on me with an intensity that would have once made me shrink back.
Shrinking was beneath me.
Valen stepped fully into the cell, and I watched with satisfaction as something shifted in his expression.
His black eyes, usually so controlled and calculating, flickered with surprise at my tone, my posture, the way I seemed to welcome his presence rather than hide from it.
There was suspicion there too, wariness that suggested he recognized the change in me even if he couldn’t yet identify its source.
“Impatient, are we?” Valen asked, his voice carrying its usual controlled amusement, but I caught the slight roughness beneath the silk. “How unlike you, to be eager for my attention.”
I shifted my weight, allowing my body to sway gently in the chains. The movement caused the torn hem of my gown to ride higher on my thighs. His gaze dropped, almost involuntarily, before snapping back to my face.
“I missed you,” I said, my voice dropping to a husky whisper. “I can’t stop thinking about last night.”
Valen took a step closer, his movements suddenly less fluid, as if he were forcing himself to maintain control. “When I bit you? When you went mad with my blood in your veins?” His lips curved into a cruel smile. “Or when you begged for relief like my little whore?”
The words were designed to shame me, to remind me of my place. Once, they would have succeeded. Now, I laughed—a soft, throaty sound that seemed to catch him by surprise.
“All three,” I admitted, watching his face carefully. “I was thinking about how your teeth felt against my skin. How your blood tasted.” I paused, licking my lips deliberately. “And how I touched myself afterward.”
Death’s reaction was immediate. Yet, instead of the anger I would expect, dark amusement rippled through the stone, accompanied by a satisfaction so palpable I could almost taste it on my tongue.
He should be angry. Why would he feel any sort of mirth?
Valen’s expression suddenly transformed, a predatory gleam replacing the momentary surprise in his eyes. He moved closer, the space between us charged with dangerous intent.
“Did you now?” His smile turned knowing, wolfish. “And did my queen find her release?”
I bit my lower lip, a calculated gesture of feigned shyness that contrasted with my bold words. I nodded slowly, watching his reaction through half-lidded eyes.
His smile widened, revealing teeth too sharp for a mortal man. In three fluid steps, he closed the distance between us. His hand shot out, fingers wrapping around the back of my neck with possessive strength, thumb pressing against my pulse point.
“Did you know,” he whispered, his breath hot against my ear, “you could only come if you were thinking of me? Could only reach that precipice if you were so consumed, by lust, for me?”
The certainty in his voice sent an involuntary shiver down my spine. I hadn’t known that particular detail—that the bloodlust demanded such focus. Death had never mentioned it.
But that meant…
Death knew.
He’d known that when I’d tried to touch myself in the madness of bloodlust, I would have only found release by thinking of Valen. And when I tried, and I couldn’t…
He knew. Had known all along that in that moment of desperation, Valen hadn’t been alone in my thoughts.
I forced my expression to remain unchanged, though I could feel heat rising to my cheeks. Death’s silent laughter seemed to fill the space between my heartbeats, a private mockery that only I could hear.
The smug bastard was enjoying this.
But two could play at this game. I leaned into Valen’s touch, letting my lips part slightly as I met his gaze with heavy-lidded eyes.
“Of course, I was thinking of you,” I murmured, my voice dropping to a breathy whisper. “Every touch. Every breath. I was consumed, thinking about how you feel pressed against me, how your hands feel on my skin.”
The lies slipped from my lips like silk, smooth and practiced. I pressed closer to him, letting my body communicate what my words promised.
Valen’s grip tightened, his thumb tracing the rapid pulse at my throat. “Such a sweet mouth you have,” he said, but there was heat in his voice now, desire bleeding through the mockery. “Tell me more about these fantasies, my queen.”
I let my head fall back slightly, exposing more of my throat to his touch. “I imagined you taking me against the wall,” I said, my voice catching, a sound that wasn’t disingenuous. “Your hands in my hair, your mouth on my neck. I imagined begging you not to stop.”
The words were calculated, designed to inflame him while reminding the god beside me that I could not be claimed. Behind the stone wall, I felt Death’s amusement shift, becoming something sharper, more dangerous, the temperature in my cell dropping several degrees.
They thought I existed to play in their games? Well, it was time they played mine.
Valen’s expression darkened further, a muscle jumping in his jaw. “Are you still feeling my blood’s effects, Princess?” He asked, a thread of uncertainty painting his tone.
“Would that please you?” I countered. “To know that you have corrupted me so thoroughly?”
He traced the curve of the leather collar around my throat with his free hand, his touch feather-light. “Corruption?” He paused, my breath hitching as his finger gently grazed my skin. “Corruption implies there was something pure to begin with.”
I didn’t flinch at his words. Instead, I leaned further into his touch, letting my eyelids flutter closed for just a moment, a soft sigh escaping my parted lips.
“You’re right,” I whispered, opening my eyes to meet his gaze. “Your blood merely awakened what was already there.”
His pupils dilated at my words, words that were nearly repeated from Death’s lips, but still held truth. His finger continued its lazy circuit around my collar, occasionally dipping beneath the leather to brush against the sensitive skin of my throat.
“What game are you trying to play with me, Princess?” Valen asked, his voice dropping lower, rougher.
I leaned forward as much as the chains would allow, until my lips nearly brushed his. “No game,” I breathed, feeling him go still. “I just thought... if you were going to continue to torture me, I may as well enjoy it.”
He seized my jaw in his large hand, fingers digging into my cheeks. The heat of his skin burned against mine, his grip just shy of painful.
“You expect me to believe this sudden... enthusiasm... isn’t some pathetic attempt to manipulate me?
” His thumb brushed along my lower lip, the touch incongruously gentle compared to his harsh words.
“Do you think I haven’t seen this strategy before?
The captive seducing her captor, thinking to soften his heart? ”
I smiled against his thumb. “Is that what you think I’m doing? Trying to soften your heart?” I laughed, the sound vibrating against his hand. “We both know you don’t have one to soften.”
His grip tightened momentarily, frustration flickering in his eyes. “Then what—is—this?”
“This,” I said, my voice dropping to a whisper, “is me acknowledging what we both know as truth… I want you.”
Death’s fury slammed against my consciousness, chains rattling with such violence I felt the vibrations through the stone floor. Good. Let him understand that his dismissal had consequences, that calling me entertainment would not go unanswered.