Page 42 of Cursed Shadows 2

He isn’t kind about it, not in the way he yanks me from his shoulder, as if just realizing now that it’sme, and I land on my boots with a thud.

Before I can right myself, he turns to leave. He doesn’t make it a step before I snatch his wrist.

His head snaps to the side. Head tilted down, his hair falls into his face, and he looks at me from beneath his lashes. A warning in his glare.

I’m undeterred. He can easily tug his wrist out of my grip, but he doesn’t.

“Are you so eager to join that brawl?” I ask, then let myself slump against the door. My grip doesn’t loosen, so he’s tugged closer to me.

He takes that step to follow me, but his eyes don’t soften.

“With Eamon and Aleana home safe,” I start, “and Rune and Samick deep in a bloody fight, why don’t you stay with me?”

His voice is an utterly unfeeling growl, “You made no bargain for this Quiet.”

“Do I need one?” My lashes hang low over my eyes, and I know exactly what I’m doing with my lazy lean against the door, one that has the strap of my dress falling over my shoulder. “I need a bargain for my love to come to bed with me?”

My hand is smacked from his wrist. He hits it aside as he moves for me, faster than the sheets of lightning that thunder over skies.

The ache of my spine pressed hard against the door bites at me, but I keep my head leaned back and align our faces.

Daxeel’s face is stone as he towers over me. “You did what you did.” His hand shoots upwards and snatches the underside of my chin in a death grip.

I wince, but not before he’s lifted me, my back sliding up the wall until my boots dangle above the ground. His fingers don’t tighten around my throat, but I’m pinned in place.

The tips of our noses touch, the sharp coolness of his minty breath tickles my lips. His eyes are pits of ocean depths. I might like to fall into them and drown.

“This—” He brushes his soft, full lips over mine, and my lashes flutter “—changes nothing.”

Softly, I hiss, “You underestimate my resilience. You are what I want, you areallI want. And I will fight for you because I didn’t fight when I should have.”

“Us,” he growls at me. “Nari…” His rough tone softens into something mocking. “I will destroy you as you did me, I will shame you as you did me—and I will break your heart as you did mine.”

His rosy lips twist ugly before he spits,literally spitsonto my mouth. I flinch, but my response is a mere silent snarl.

“There are no second chances in life,” he says, then to taunt me, flicks the tip of his nose over mine, a gesture that’s meant to be full of affection, “but there are silly little halflings who feed their fantasies of forgiveness and delusions around the power of love.”

I hold his stare. “You do love me.”

“Yes.” His gaze, like his answer, is so unflinching that I loosen a breath at the force of it. The tips of his fingers press so firmly into my flesh that I’m sure I’ll bruise. “And I despise you.”

Between our bodies, I lift my hand to my face. I don’t break eye contact as I wipe away the traces of his spit, then—around a grin—my fingertips dip it into my mouth.

A shudder runs up his chest, and I feel it, every bit of it, against me.

The tips of my fingers drag over my lips. “So punish me, or let me show you how much I love you, let me show you how much I want you.” One flick of the tongue over my fingers, anact he watches too intensely, and I purr at him, “Let me beg.”

A sudden snarl growls through him, and in a blink, he’s hit the door open and thrown me over his shoulder. In just a heartbeat, I’m tossed onto the foot of the bed, and he’s kicked his foot back to slam the door shut.

Pushing up onto my knees, I watch him round on me, a fresh gleam in his eyes. More than lust, deeper than need, darker than rage—that fight in the Hall stirred his beast awake.

But all Daxeel does is stop just a breath’s touch from me and slam his hand down on the bedpost. He looks down at me, a quiet storm brewing deep within him.

Before he can bark any orders at me, ones that interfere with my little schemes I’ve developed around the whore, I push up and rest my hands on his chest. Beneath my palms, his muscles tighten—and I fight the smile that blooms as I feel the racing beat of his heart.

I lift my chin to ghost my mouth along the exposed ink of his neck. He’s unmoving. He doesn’t stop me. So I slide my hands up and over his shoulders, pushing myself up, and brush my lips along the length of his neck, all the way to the underside of his jaw.

I hear the swallow of his throat. I don’t react. Pretend I don’t notice at all before I travel my kiss over the defined shape of his chin.

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