Page 51 of A Bond in Flames

Pulling up his sleeves, he rubbed his hands together, his translucent skin glowing the faster he rubbed. Then he pressed one to my bare stomach, pushing and grinding his palm. I screamed and thrashed, but leather binds snapped up like snakes and wrapped around my arms and legs, holding me down. White-hot agony burned through me as his hand pushed through, disappearing inside me. Shadows danced at the edges of my vision—and then the pain was too much. Everything went dark.

When I woke again, only a few candles flickered around the room. I looked down at myself. My stomach looked as if nothing had happened, as if the demon hadn’t shoved his hand through my skin and into my body. My forearm stung, and I lifted it. There was a small tattoo-like marking there.

“You’re awake finally,” the demon said, and I quickly sat up, almost unbalancing and falling.

I looked back down at the tattoo. “What did you do?”

“The deal is done. You are now concealed from Death for all eternity.”

I struggled to my feet. My stomach ached, and I felt weird. “What did you take from me?”

He motioned to a jar on a table beside me. Something fleshy floated in pink-tinged liquid. “I’ve given you your life back. That is a powerful thing and requires something equally as powerful as payment. I restored your life, and now you will never be able to create it. I took your womb, child.”

“Zinnia?”

Death’s voice pulled me from the horror of that memory, one I chose not to revisit, ever, but tonight, for some reason, I hadn’t been able to shake it off.

“Where did you go just now?” he asked, studying me closely.

I forced a smile. “Sorry, I must’ve zoned out. Tired, I guess. I didn’t sleep earlier like I’d planned to.” I was trying to hide how that memory affected me, but Hemlock was totally giving me away. He was pressed into me, nuzzling my jaw, pouring as much love and comfort into me as his little soul had to give.

“Egon,” Somnus called. “Bring the ambrosia, my man. My brother and I have much to discuss.”

I smiled at him. “Looks like you’re in for a big night. I’m going to head up to bed.” I stood, but Death grabbed my hand, stopping me from walking past.

“Are you well?” His gaze moved over my face again. “You seem unsettled.”

“I’m fine,” I lied. “I just need a good night’s sleep, that’s all.”

“And you’ll be in my bed while you do it. Tonight and every night from now on. When I come up later, that’s where I expect to find you.”

“How very presumptuous of you,” I said, raising a brow.

“This was inevitable. If you try to defy me, I will come for you and put you where you belong,” he said, and darkness flashed through his eyes again.

This side of him hadn’t been present as much, not after we left the ship and headed for home. I recognized it for what it was now—fear that I would reject him, deny him. He chose force, to bend me to his will, rather than ask and risk me saying no. That was something we were going to have to talk about, but I was too tired right then, and we had an audience.

So instead of giving him the attitude he expected before he inevitably made me do what he wanted, I decided to skip that part and, instead, cupped the side of his face, then leaned in close. His eyes widened, and I relished his surprise. It wasn’t often I got one over on this powerful male. “All you had to do was ask, my lord,” I said and pressed a soft kiss to his perfectly formed lips.

He made a delicious gruff sound as I straightened and walked away.

“Night, Somnus,” I called.

“Good night, Zinnia,” he called back, sounding a lot cheerier than before.

CHAPTER16

Zinnia

It feltweird being in Death’s huge bed on my own. It felt weird being in his room, period.

The fire crackled against the opposite wall, and that at least gave the place a bit of warmth, but here now, on my own, I was feeling out of place—insignificant.

I stroked Hemy, who had curled up beside my pillow, and that helped. But there was this niggling feeling inside me that wouldn’t go away, that I didn’t like much at all.

I’d never had low self-esteem or let insecurities get the better of me. I’d always been confident in who I was, how I looked, my place in the world. I’d basically raised my sister on my own since our mother was more absent than not. I’d protected Jasmine, taken over her care full time when Mom left to travel the world and barely looked back.

So I knew who I was. I was Zinnia Thornheart, Jasmine’s big sister, and a powerful witch and medium. I’d liked being her—loved it, in fact. Being a god’s consort? One of possibly ten other females? Nope, that had never been on the cards. So no, I’d never had low self-esteem, but I needed to know where I fit into all of this. With him? I’d definitely never be his one and only love; he’d possibly loved them all. I wasn’t the jealous type, but it was an odd feeling being one of so many and possibly not his last consort either—there would be more after me, possibly many more. I guess that was no different than meeting someone and knowing they had a bunch of exes. It was normal, right?