Ten Adriana
“H EAVY-HANDED, ARROGANT, OR not, it was an incredible opportunity, Adriana. I can’t believe you turned it down.”
Ryleigh wasn’t wrong, but I was too riled up to agree now.
Her disapproving tone also wasn’t helping to ease my own worry. Out of everyone in my life, I thought she’d unequivocally side with me. That she didn’t made me question everything.
Immediately after I left House Gluttony, I went to the Wicked Daily to see if my suspicion had been correct, finding my desk had indeed already been cleaned out.
Axton had seen fit to take my job from me and give me a new one without any thought or care to what I might desire. It had taken several hours to clear things up with my editor and secure my position again, mostly because we had to wait for Axton to confirm my story. And the prince didn’t deign to respond to my correspondence until he’d felt like it.
Arrogant. Royal. Hoarfrost demon. I hoped his bollocks were attacked by fleas.
He was nothing like the stranger at the Seven Sins. The stupid, wonderful masked male I couldn’t stop thinking about while my real world came crashing down around me.
Even in Axton’s throne room, I’d been distracted, imagining the way my stranger had pressed me against the wall, igniting my passion as much as Axton ignited my annoyance. I’d reached for the secret key I’d kept hidden on me half a dozen times throughout the day.
I stopped pacing, forcing my mind to focus. I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d let my feelings for Axton ruin a perfectly good opportunity. Though “perfectly good” was grossly understating the salary.
My stepmother was out with my sister at the modiste we couldn’t afford, and Ryleigh arrived at my home directly after work, listening dutifully as I verbally skewered the prince for more than an hour. Now, though, she was losing patience. We didn’t feel other sins—like envy—strongly, so I knew she wasn’t jealous about the offer. Still, I would feel better if I could just explain it in a way that made sense.
“There’s no way I could work for him, especially how he went about it,” I finally said.
“He’s a prince. What do you expect?”
“Common decency? Basic manners?”
“He’s an arrogant prick, but he’s generous with his coin, Ad. That salary would have bought just about anyone.”
There was that odd note in her tone again. Perhaps I was being overly sensitive. I brushed it away. We were best friends, and she’d always taken my side when it came to the prince.
“If I allow him to walk all over me, I’ll have only myself to blame for feeling less than. It’s a matter of principle. Sometimes that’s more valuable than coin.”
Though it was hard to stand by my principles when my family would be the ones suffering. I’d tormented myself for hours, wondering if I’d made a mistake. One million coins per article was more than I could fathom. Maybe I was the worst sort of fool. A principled one.
I sighed before dropping onto my worn mattress and hugged my pillow to my chest. What really chafed was the fact that it was an incredible opportunity. A dream chance at eventually writing the stories I wanted to and being well compensated for it.
And all I’d had to do was sell my soul to the damned dark prince and write his epic love story first.
I might not have the obscene salary, but a new idea was taking shape. I’d need to meet with one of my informants, set everything up just right if I hoped to pull it off… but I might still find a way to work around my current reporting restrictions. That it would also pay the prince back for making me wait around all day for him to help me secure my job again was a bonus.
I felt for the magic key again, annoyed that I was so distracted by what it symbolized.
For some reason, I’d kept it a secret from my best friend. Ryleigh was already on edge, and I hated to add one more thing to argue over.
Guilt gnawed at me when Ryleigh sat next to me, rubbing small circles on my back.
Maybe she was just upset for me, knowing how much that coin would help, and not upset with me. I should tell her about the invitation to the Seven Sins. But my mouth remained stubbornly shut. I didn’t want her to think the stranger had any part in my refusing Axton. I knew it wasn’t true, but she’d get that starry-eyed look and endlessly push me to indulge in romance.
“It will all work out, Ad.”
“I know. At least I won’t have to suffer through courtly games and cutthroat royals all vying for more power. While writing stories that make the whole Seven Circles fall even more madly in love with the one male I hate. For good reason.”
Ryleigh was silent for a few moments. She knew too well why I despised Axton. Why there would never be anything but animosity between us. She’d been there that night it all went horribly wrong, but she’d been with her own lover and missed the worst of the show.
It wasn’t just the heartbreak and embarrassment; it was the realization that I didn’t belong in his world and never would. Just as my stepmother always claimed.
Some nobles had been horrendously cruel to me at the ball that night, but I’d done my best to hold my head high, trying desperately to not allow any tears to fall until I was home.
I’d failed in that attempt. But not because of what they’d called me.
Sometimes not saying a word was the most hurtful action.
Love conquers all. Or so the philosophers and poets claimed. Love was the magic that crossed realms, breached worlds, and threaded them together.
True love also had the power to slay the strongest dragons, the greatest evil. It was what the fairy tales told us time and again. But I discovered those were just stories, enchanting because they were pure fantasy, written by dreamers.
In my experience, if you made the grave mistake of falling for a prince when you were a pauper, reality quickly knocked you back to your senses, bruised and battered with your reputation much worse for the wear. My prince hadn’t swept in to save me that night, so I saved myself from further heartbreak and never looked back.
“Would you prefer to take his offer?” Ryleigh asked. “He must have really wanted you for the position. I have little doubt he’d hire you if you asked.”
I’d hate myself more than I hated him if I allowed him to purchase my future.
“No. Having to watch him fall in love and writing about it would be worse than continually being shat on by a flock of birds, millions of coins or not.”
Ryleigh flashed a devious smile.
“Indeed. I can’t imagine anything worse than valiantly walking through a storm of bird shit while having millions of coins rain down on you too.”
We chatted for a little while longer before eventually parting ways. Ryleigh had an event to attend for work, and I had… I had a key that had been tempting me all day.
I should go to the night district to meet with one of my informants.
I still wanted to run down every possible lead on the ice dragon rumors. But damnably, I craved flirtation a tiny bit more. It had to be some strange anomaly. If I met my stranger one more time, my curiosity would be sated, and I could continue with my normal routine.
My sense of intrigue was a result of our being interrupted the evening before.
It certainly had nothing to do with the stranger himself. Or my desire to get drunk on his intoxicating kisses once more. He was a craving. Something sweet to indulge. And once I’d satisfied that taste of debauchery, I’d never think of him again.
Tomorrow I’d resume my dutiful life as the responsible reporter. I’d find a way to get revenge on the prince and earn some coin in the process.
Tonight, I’d drown out thoughts of Axton’s competition and attempt to buy me with someone I wanted to spend time with.
Someone who’d stolen my mind well before I’d stolen that first kiss.
Meeting him would be my own secret, one I was unwilling to share with anyone, even Ryleigh.
For now.
I stepped onto the rooftop garden of the Seven Sins; the night flowers were already in full bloom, the petals shimmering from a fine dusting of ice that caught the light of the crescent moon. I inhaled deeply, the fragrant, sweet scent of frostberries standing out among the many floral notes. My attention swept across the empty space. The stranger with the smart mouth wasn’t waiting for me in the shadows. I was early, but only by a few minutes.
I tried not to focus on my doubts. I’d learned the more you sank into them, the more they tugged you under.
Though hope was such a fickle thing to grasp and hold on to as well, like snowflakes swirling through the air; you might be lucky enough to catch one, but too quickly it disappeared.
I wasn’t sure what I hoped for tonight, but for the first time in ages, I was eager and nervous and excited all rolled into one. Thoughts of work and being responsible and worrying about the future or my slightly strained visit with Ryleigh all melted into the background.
Tonight, I felt like that nineteen-year-old who’d taken a chance and dreamed.
I drifted closer to the roof’s edge, where a stone railing lined the perimeter. I hadn’t gotten close enough to really look at it last night and loved the detail that went into it.
The posts were carved to look like dragons standing upright on their hindquarters, their wings extended to keep patrons from accidentally falling over the edge.
It was dark and whimsical with a hint of danger. It reminded me of the prince’s throne. Dragon art graced many homes and businesses since Axton had a fondness for the creatures and hosted hunts regularly.
Most denizens of the Underworld were influenced by what the seven Princes of Sin enjoyed, so our circle’s affinity for the legendary creatures wasn’t unusual.
I ran a finger along the dragon’s wing, marveling at the sheer majesty of the design.
The stone was cold, frost coated, not unlike the ice dragons they’d been modeled after. Real dragons were forbidden from flying over our circle without the prince’s permission, but their territory was close enough that occasionally you might spy one in the far distance, a smudge on the horizon.
I looked beyond the rooftop, at the world glittering before me.
Up here, the night district was breathtaking. Stone buildings looked quaint nestled together with the snow drifting down in lazy flurries. In fact, it appeared as if the sky had been brought to earth, the lights in the taverns and pubs twinkling like golden stars.
My focus moved upward until House Gluttony came into view, the large limestone castle rising high in the distance like a great beast, watching over us all from the snowcapped mountaintop it perched upon. I wanted to hate it but couldn’t.
I imagined the prince was hosting another lavish party right now, indulging in all sorts of debauched acts. Axton’s reputation for being a rake was well-known and well-earned.
Against my near-constant attempt to forget, I vividly recalled the exact moment he’d stepped into that role, and how quickly he’d forgotten anyone else in his quest to feed his ever-hungry sin. Of course his reputation had been a little scandalous from time to time before then—he was a Prince of Sin, after all. But what he’d become after—someone who’d break hearts without care or remorse—was something else entirely. He was likely already abed with multiple partners, drinking until the sun rose and news of his competition to find a wife spread.
Soon the streets would be filled with visitors from other circles, all coming to witness the damned prince find his perfect match. It had been ten years since our… disaster. I knew he’d eventually take a wife but didn’t expect for it to sting quite so much.
I heaved a sigh, my breath puffing out in front of me, the chill in the air slightly tempered by magic that kept the rooftop from freezing.
Several minutes passed, the boisterous laughter slowly rising from the street, reminding me that I was alone once more, watching from the shadows.
The masked stranger hadn’t kept his promise.
Disappointment weighed heavy in my chest. I hadn’t sorted out what, exactly, I’d wanted to happen tonight. If I wanted another stolen kiss or more.
I’d enjoyed verbally sparring with the stranger, and the idea of finding someone else this evening held little appeal, though I could go back downstairs and find a willing partner. But it hadn’t just been physical—though that part was spectacular. I really liked his company.
My gaze found its way to the damned castle again before I wrenched it away.
I took one last look at the lively district, then turned toward the stairs, halting at once.
There, standing under the night-blooming frostberry tree, was my stranger.
“What in the name of the old gods are you doing?” I pressed a hand to my chest.
“Admiring the view.”
He strode toward me, his gait sure and confident. There was something attractive about his unhurried steps, his focus hot as I imagined it traveling over my mask, then continuing downward, hungrily feasting on my costume, then moving on to my curves.
His perusal was downright indecent in the most breathtaking way. He admired every inch of me before dragging his attention upward again.
He looked ready to devour me.
I couldn’t stop myself from flushing at his appreciation, though I was pleased by his response. It was nice to know someone desired you madly every once in a while.
I’d visited Carlo and had worn the same ensemble as last night. The glamour only worked on the physical form—clothing and jewelry were untouched. I’d wanted my stranger to recognize me in case the glamour gave me a different face.
“I didn’t think you’d come.”
“A proper gentleman ensures a lady always comes first.”
My lips curved. Clever, ridiculous male. “That line is old and tired.”
“Thankfully I am not.”
He stepped up to the railing beside me, leaning over it casually. With his mask, I couldn’t tell where his gaze had landed but assumed it was on the patrons dancing in the street below, belting a popular tune that was horridly off-key, but endearing.
“You seemed to be deep in thought,” he said. “What were you looking at so intently?”
I settled back on the railing, glancing out across the city. “House Gluttony.”
“Ah.” He sounded less than impressed. “Dreaming of taming the prince’s wicked heart by visiting his bed like every other maiden in the realm?”
“Hardly.”
His attention shifted to me, a smile touching the corners of his lips. “Interesting.”
“What is?”
“Most fantasize about making the debauched prince fall in love.”
“Well, I believe he’s already in love.”
“Oh?” His grin grew wider. “Who’s the lucky winner of that prize?”
“You haven’t figured that out?” I tsked. “He’s very clearly in love with himself.” I added a touch of humor to my tone to avoid ruining our banter. Gabriel Axton wasn’t going to tarnish my night. “What about you? What do people say of your reputation?”
“That I am a ruthless lover, far more exciting in bed than any prince. Even one ruled by sin.”
“Oh, gods.” I smiled. “You’re either visiting from House Envy or House Pride, aren’t you?”
“I can’t very well tell you my secrets,” he teased back. “Unless of course you share some of yours with me first. Like, perhaps, your name?”
My heart raced as I looked him over. He was fishing even though he knew it was against the rules. If he was curious about my real identity, that would be disastrous.
“This club is supposed to offer anonymity,” I reminded him. “You’re far too curious for either of our own good. I’d hate to be banished from here.”
His grin remained in place.
“Fair enough. You’d rather not discuss last night, then, either, I presume?”
“I already told you. I had to leave or else I would have been tempted to stay.”
He was quiet for a few moments, his attention shifting back to the patrons who’d continued to spill into the alleyway below. Snow had been shoveled to the far side, piled high, granting them access to the exit doors of their lounges and pubs.
“You wanted a distraction from your heartbreak,” he said. “A night of fun.”
I didn’t bother correcting his assumption; I didn’t have any heartbreak. Well, recently, at least. In order to keep my identity hidden, I couldn’t tell him I was a writer in need of research. It wouldn’t take long for him to piece together who I was based on my questions; Miss Match was the only romance advice columnist in the realm.
“Most come here in search of fun. I’m no different.”
“Most come here, my lady, to give in to other sins.”
Fair point.
“Which sin did you come here to indulge?”
He strummed his fingers over the railing, seeming to consider his answer carefully.
My curiosity grew with each second that passed.
“I’d rather show you, Lady F. If you’re up for an adventure.”
His tone held a dare. And as much as I hated to admit it, even to myself, my sin of choice was gluttony, if only for the fact that chasing thrills was one of my greatest secret desires.
I’d come to this club knowing there was a very real possibility of living out my fantasy with him tonight. This adventure, this night of passion, would sustain me for the wretched weeks to come as I watched the “unattainable bachelor” finally become attached.
But only if I allowed myself to indulge in what my mysterious stranger was offering.
My pulse raced as the evening finally took a deliciously tempting turn.
I didn’t know his name. I couldn’t begin to guess his eye color. But I knew with certainty he would make tonight an evening I wouldn’t soon forget, if his last kiss was anything to go by.
“What sort of adventure were you thinking of tonight?” I asked.
He turned to face me, his expression impossible to read with the damned mask.
“How brave do you consider yourself?”
I nibbled on my lower lip, the motion snaring his attention as if I’d laid a clever trap. “I consider myself fairly bold. Which I suppose is brave in its own way. Why?”
Anticipation thickened the space between us as he drank his fill of me again.
“Bend over the railing.”
My breath caught. This was the Seven Circles, a realm that thrived on sin, so I was no simpering miss. Therefore, I hadn’t expected him to court me, for saints’ sakes, but his low, guttural demand shocked me for a moment.
Then a wonderful heat spread through me. The idea of giving up control, of granting someone else leave to make decisions, was… enticing.
No, not someone, him. This stranger who tempted and distracted me far too much.
I clearly needed to seek help. I made a mental note to stop by the apothecary this week; surely the witch running it had a brew to mend my broken sanity.
“Pardon?” I asked, stalling.
His smile was sin incarnate.
“Afraid, Lady F?”
“Hardly.”
“Good.” He took my hand, drawing it up to brush a kiss across my knuckles. “Tonight, I’d like to be in total control. Do you take issue with that?”
Under any other circumstance, I’d take great issue with it. But his thumb slowly stroked along my pulse point, his touch as far from sin as it could be, yet I already desired more.
I shook my head. “No, I don’t take issue with that.”
He leaned close, brushing his lips across mine. A bolt of heat traveled through me at the brief contact, my eyes fluttering shut. It was so light, teasing. I immediately wanted more.
He moved that tempting mouth to my ear, his voice a low whisper filled with sinful intent.
“Bend over the railing.”
I took a steadying breath, then did as he requested, the stone cold enough to bite into my palms as I braced myself. I gripped harder, forgetting the sting as my attention fell to the ground.
I hadn’t realized how high up we were. The idea of him catching me before I could fall sent another thrill racing through me. It was an enormous amount of trust to put in a stranger.
Which was maybe the second indication I needed to seek a royal healer.
But the fear… the fear had adrenaline racing through me, and each of my senses heightened in a way I’d never experienced before.
My body practically buzzed and throbbed, and he hadn’t even fully kissed me or touched more than my wrist yet.
“Ready?” he asked, his voice low and deep as he swept a lock of hair back and tucked it behind my ear.
He was such a dichotomy—sweet and considerate, yet wickedly devious. I couldn’t predict his next move and loved the challenge.
I swallowed thickly, then nodded, excitement rushing through me. All of a sudden, panic took over.
“Wait.”
He didn’t move at all. “If you’re not comfortable, say the word.”
I glanced back over the edge. It was thrilling, and I did trust him… as much as I could trust someone I didn’t know at all. Logic overrode my need for adventure.
“Why don’t we save this particular thrill for another time?” he asked. His nose grazed the side of my jaw, sending another rush through me as he leaned in. “I have other ideas if you’re game?”
“Such as?”
He offered me his hand, then walked us to the garden. “Face the frostberry tree and brace yourself against the trunk.”
The same rush raced through me as I flattened my hands against the rough bark. “Like this?”
“Perfect. Comfortable?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He kicked my feet apart, his hands circling my wrists, securing them to the tree.
“I can hear your heart racing,” he murmured against my ear.
“How peculiar. It’s almost like I’m in a club of sin while a masked stranger orders me around a rooftop garden.”
“Such a wicked tongue.”
“Most aren’t excited by that realization.”
He stepped closer, his front pressed firmly against my back.
I inhaled deeply; he smelled of cedar and something spicy—perhaps cardamom.
I wanted to arch into his touch but couldn’t. He’d pinned me expertly in place. But not before I felt his arousal. Gods. I’d felt it last night, but it was impressive, to say the least.
“You must be courted by fools, then.”
His hands left my wrists, only to slowly slide up my silhouette, his touch reverent as he skimmed my arms and neck, taking his time to caress each layer of silk, the slight rustle of fabric an aphrodisiac of its own. He continued his upward exploration until he reached my unbound hair and paused, his fingers sliding through my loose waves.
The wig hid my natural color in case the glamour failed, but I worried he’d stopped because he sensed it wasn’t real. A moment later, he gathered my hair to one side, carefully winding it around his fist, then tugged my head back until my attention was wholly on him.
I said a silent thank-you to Carlo for ensuring the wig remained in place during any rough play. Which, as my stranger held me firmly in place against the tree, my hair in his fist, his hungry gaze devouring me, I realized was exactly his desire.
He had me right where he wanted me, railing, tree, or wall, it didn’t matter. He liked control, or rather, domination.
He leaned down, his lips so close to mine I felt them move with his next words.
“One day I’ll fuck that pretty mouth.”
His lips brushed against mine again, whisper soft and sweet. Such a dramatic juxtaposition to his filthy words. My body responded to that low growl, his wicked promise. A slick heat gathered between my thighs. I wanted him to do all sorts of things to my mouth.
“Come all over that perfect tongue.”
His free hand rested against my throat, his touch light but possessive.
My body was contorted in a way that gave him complete control, but instead of panicking, I parted my lips on a sigh, and he finally kissed me the way I desired, his tongue sweeping in to claim mine.
He happily took command, setting the pace until I was lost to the drugging sensation of his lips moving against mine. The kiss was neither rough nor sweet, but an exploratory adventure he seemed to savor. He was learning what I liked, driving me to the edge of insanity.
My palms dragged over the rough bark of the tree the way I wanted to touch him.
My writer’s mind started envisioning all the wonderful ways his tongue would feel, swirling over different body parts with that same languorous motion. He’d peel my bodice down, exposing each inch of skin to sample like his personal feast, driving me wild but making me wait for the payoff until I thought I’d die. He’d slowly taste his way across the globe of my aching breast, drawing closer to the taut bud that craved his attention.
I imagined he’d suck and tease, pulling it into his mouth in a rhythmic way before laving it with his tongue again, and I clenched at the thought. I hadn’t realized I’d been rubbing against him until he tugged my hair a little harder, the hint of pain making me throb with need and bringing me back from that blissful stupor.
This male certainly knew how to kiss someone senseless.
Heat pooled between my thighs, his tongue stroking mine mixed with the imagery he’d created causing the most erotic fantasy.
My heart pounded in time to the increasing throbbing of my body, my mind still very much aware that I was pressed against a tree while he had me by the throat.
I expected him to move those wicked hands lower, to curl his fingers around the hem of my skirt, to tug the material upward, to relieve the ache building inside me.
Instead of devouring me, he took his time, content to drive me wild with his kiss alone.
In what could have been an hour or a moment, he finally drew back, releasing his grip on my hair, his other hand lightly stroking my throat as if it were precious.
We hadn’t done more than kiss, but it felt like the most thrilling, sensual experience of my life. I wanted more. My sin of choice awakened fully, my craving almost all-encompassing.
He pressed his lips to mine, gently, then dropped his hand.
“I’d like the pleasure of your company again, Lady F. Same time tomorrow evening?”
I must have lost much more of my senses in that kiss than I thought. With his body gone from mine, I could easily spin around to face him. “What?”
“Tomorrow. You. Me. This rooftop garden. A bottle of demonberry wine.”
If I didn’t have this cursed mask on, he’d be able to read the incredulity I knew was flashing in my gaze. “Sir, this is a pleasure club. I’m here for one night of distraction.”
His mouth curved in amusement.
“By my count, this is already night two.”
I waved my hand, agitated. “Semantics. You know what I mean.”
“Why settle for just one or two nights when we can prolong it? Draw out the pleasure. I’m not some inexperienced lad who can’t restrain myself around an alluring lover.”
“How noble and so very self-centered of you.”
The whole male species ought to be magicked away to an island to live out their days of idiocy in peace.
He drew back. “Wanting to see you again is selfish?”
“Deciding you’d like more than one night without consulting me is brutish. And not in the same sexy way as pinning me in place and ordering me around in the bedroom.”
“I apologize.” A smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. “Allow me to make my blunder up to you tomorrow evening, Lady F.”
He held up a silver key, the runes glowing softly.
“We’ll draft up the rules of play together,” he said, still offering the key. “Deal?”
Accepting another key to this club was a dangerous proposition.
The more time we spent together, the greater the risk of one of us discovering the other’s true identity, glamoured or not.
A cynical part of me wondered if that was his plan before I dismissed it.
I was being paranoid.
Normally it wouldn’t matter if anyone found out who I was, but I didn’t want my private life to become fodder for the scandal sheets.
Ironic, considering how I’d earned my living. But there was much at stake, and I needed to succeed.
I silently considered my options.
If I didn’t agree to meet tomorrow, our paths might never cross again.
And somehow not spending the night with my stranger would feel like a tragedy, especially with how he made my body feel with his kiss alone.
I wanted to be braver tomorrow and brace myself against the railing. I wanted him to do wicked, wonderful things while my heart raced and my body soared.
The trouble with indulging one time was it often led to indulging a second time, then a third, still craving more. The next thing you knew, you were addicted.
This stranger awakened a hunger in me, and I knew I couldn’t rest until it was sated.
I took the magic key from him, securing it in my bodice.
One more night.
Then we’d part ways for good.