Page 27 of Princess of Death

“You know what I think?”

My eyes narrowed.

“There’s no way to tell him without incriminating yourself. You did the one thing he asked you not to do.”

“I didn’t do it by choice.”

“But nonetheless, you’ve rekindled an unpaid debt.”

“This debt had nothing to do with you, so why do you care?”

“As God of the Underworld, it’s my job to make surealldebts are paid.”

I sat up, feeling my signature temper flare like a lit torch. “Let me get this straight. You save me from those assholes and get me home—and now you’re back to threatening me again? You told me I was worth saving, but now I’m worth provoking?”

“I’m not provoking you,” he said calmly. “Just reminding you of our predicament.”

“As I said before, my father killed your predecessor, and he’ll kill you too.”

The God of the Underworld smiled, and it somehow felt like a threat. “Yes, he succeeded before. But he had the power ofsurprise on his side at the time. Not anymore. If he faces me, he will lose his life and his soul.”

This line of conversation made me sick to my stomach. “Talk about my father like that?—”

“I have a proposition for you. A way to repay your father’s debt.”

“I already said I won’t give you my soul.”

“I would never take it—even if you offered.” His smile faded, and the intensity returned to his gaze. “I want you, Lily Rothschild.”

The cool shiver I’d felt moments ago suddenly burned white-hot. I could feel it in my face. Feel it in the numbness in my hands and feet. His words could be interpreted in many different ways, but I was certain I knew how he meant them.

“Do you accept?”

Was I actually considering this? “What are the terms?”

“You’re a smart girl.” The corner of his mouth flicked up in a smile. “Until I’m satisfied.”

“That’s it?” I asked incredulously. “Awfully vague and advantageous.”

“I won’t put a timeline on it, not when time passes differently for me.”

“Does it pass at all if you’re immortal?”

He absorbed the question in silence, seeming to mull it over. “It’s complicated.”

“I need something more concrete than that.”

“Which means you’re receptive.” He looked like a predator once again, the same way he had on the dead island out to sea. His eyes ate me whole.

“You threatened to kill my father, so I don’t have much of a choice.”

“Your father brought this upon himself. He wouldn’t want you to intervene on his behalf. You owe him and me nothing. The proposal I’ve given you is entirely optional.” Through his clothing and his armor, the thickness of his muscles was visible, the distinct bulge in his arms like a cannonball was cradled in his elbow. “But my fire makes yours burn, and yours makes mine grow.”

I had been reckless when I’d bedded a vampire who could have killed me. But screwing the God of the Underworld was a whole different level of recklessness. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He had a stare more powerful than a dragon’s. His dark eyes reminded me of Khazmuda’s, inherently threatening until he had a reason not to be. But no matter how hostile Wrath seemed to be, he never seemed dangerous. At least, not a danger to me. “That the wildfire that burns between us is mutual. I feel your heat on my face, and I know you feel mine.”

“That’s quite an assumption.”

---