Page 397 of Flirting with Darkness

My body stiffens, gaze locked on the demon’s eyes. My mind doesn’t simply hollow out as it has so many nights prior. He pushes aside my whole being, my soul, my awareness, making room for his will. His command. “Yes, sire,” my mouth says without permission.

My body refuses to recoil, my lips won’t snarl at him.

I’m completely at his mercy.

“Only works on demons? Maybe I shall start callingyoudemon from now on.”

I can’t volley back. Can’t do anything but sit here, empty and waiting.

But if Father was wrong about that…

I push that thought away. Magic isn’t a simple thing. Perhaps a demon, one who proclaims he’s a king no less, can bend the spell. Manipulate it so it works on a human.

Or perhaps this isn’t name magic at all and he’s simply affecting my senses with his twisted, evil magics.

He releases his grip on my will with a wave of his hand, and the second I have control of my muscles, I’m up, crossing the cave, and into his space. “Give me your name,king.” I spit the title at him like it’s the worst insult known to humanity. “It’s only fair. I won’t have you knowing mine if I don’t know yours.”

His temper flares and he closes the space between us further. I’m right in his face. His perfect, carved face. We’re breathing the same air. If I wanted, I could reach out and touch the heel-shaped bruise forming at his temple.

“Fair? You dare speak to me of fairness when it’s you and your family who kept me locked away for centuries because of their own ignorance?”

His snarled words indict me even as his warm breath whispers across my cheek.

And my heart quickens. At his anger. His nearness. Both.

We stayed locked and staring, his ire matching mine.

I can’t help but wonder how good it would feel to reach up and…

In one motion, I grip his throat, digging into the skin to get a good hold around the cartilage of his windpipe.

It’s not a kick to the balls or head, but it’ll do.

“Name,” I repeat. “Now, or I remove your throat from your neck.”

The demon has the gall to smile at me. “Would you like my full royal title or just my given name?”

“Whatever levels the playing field, you prig.”

He nods. Slowly, like time is a resource he has in excess, before snatching my wrist away from his neck, kicking my feet out from under me, and pinning me to the cave floor.

He hovers over me, dark hair brushing my cheeks, face mere inches from mine. “You won’t get my name that easily, human.”

My heart stops, tripping on its own beat before starting again. He’s so close.

If I wanted, I could arch up and kiss those plush lips…

He squeezes my wrists, thumb rolling over the callus as a dark smile pulls at his lips. “I’m the only one allowed to tie you up, Liesl.”

His soft words roll over me like a promise, a dare.

And I simply can’t abide that. I buck under him but he doesn’t move. “Get off of me you filthy—"

“Stay here,” he orders, sharp tone cutting me off as hops off like I’m made of acid.

Which I wanted…

But did he have to be so unpleasant?

---