Page 74 of A Dance Macabre

I moan into his mouth, tongues hot and wet as his hips pin me even harder to the wall. My hands grip his jacket, pulling, pulling, pulling.

Closer.

Closer.

Closer.

Until we are nothing more but two halves of the same body. And that’s not close enough yet.

His palm shifts on my cheek, I feel the cold press of his signet ring against my skin. I’m not quite sure what compels me. But I break away from our kiss, the desire of having something of his to wear just as heady as the burning heat low in my stomach.

His eyes smolder. One eyebrow lifts as I take his left hand and slowly wrap my lips around his pinky finger. I suck it into my mouth, listening to Wolfgang’s low throaty groan as I drag my teeth over his ring, slowly pulling it off.

The thumb from his other hand smooths over my skin. Close to my nose, then below my eye. “What are you doing?” Wolfgang asks. His voice is hungry. Demanding.

I smile. Arrogant like him. And I don’t miss the surprise flitting through his gaze.

I slip his ring on my index finger, the gold now unexpectedly warm.

“Sealing our fates.”

41

MERCY

Standing directly under the spray of the shower, the water runs down the back of my head as I smooth my wet hair away from my face. The steam appeases my aching muscles. It’s a satisfying ache, in the way that everything I set out to do has been done.

I’ve just returned to Mount Pravitia. After collecting death’s tithe, Wolfgang pressed for me to let him come with me and watch while I completed my ritual.

A carefully staged photograph. Then the lick of flames.

I declined his request and told him I needed to finish this alone. I looked away when disappointment flashed across his face. But he said nothing, kissing my forehead instead as his thumb smoothed over my chin before leaving me standing in the alleyway alone.

The rain still cold and seeping.

I couldn’t tell him it was because I can hardly manage a coherent thought when around him. Answering death’s call has always helped to quiet my mind, a meditative act that allows me to center back into myself.

I don’t regret refusing Wolfgang to come tonight, I needed space to breathe before returning to Mount Pravitia. Space to breathe before I returned and sought him in the silence of the halls, the echoes of steps on marble floors.

Turning off the steaming water, I step out onto the plush rug under my toes. I feel anew. Not bothering with a towel, I let the air kiss my warm skin as it slowly dries.

I stand in front of the large bathroom mirrors and brush my wet hair in a mindless daydream until the glint of Wolfgang’s ring catches the light.

I stop.

My arms drop to my sides.

I stare at my reflection.

Bringing my hand to my lips, I smooth the hard metal of his ring back and forth, a tingle of heat igniting low in my stomach as I recall our time together earlier tonight.

It would be so much easier to continue to hate him.

To have his presence irritate me like lice itching my scalp.

But I can’t deny the past weeks. The slow but inevitable fall into madness.

Because what is this if not madness?

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