Page 9 of A Kiss From Death
He stands there staring daggers into my soul, and I think I might faint from the intensity they hold. He may have knocked me senseless, because now, I’m the one hypnotized as I take in the beast in front of me.
He towers above me, casting a large shadow from his sheer size. He has to be at least a full foot taller than me, and I am positive this man was sculpted by the Empress herself, carved and sculpted to perfection.
Every square inch of him is packed with muscle and then more muscle on top of those. They’re the kind of muscles you aren’t born with but build over time with immense training and dedication.
His shaggy, wild obsidian hair reminds me of the darkest night sky. He looks like he just ran his hands through it out of frustration, but it still looks effortlessly edible. The tips of his hair curl in every direction in a chaotic but still presentable manner.
I drag my eyes down his body, where they snag on his piercing eyes, which are complete opposites. The one on the right is an identical twin to his midnight black hair, as if every color swirled together inside to create a twinkling, iridescent black. It’s all contained inside a halo-like, glowing silver ring.
Trailing over to his left, I’m taken back. He sports a jagged white scar running from his hairline across his eye to the side of his nose. It reminds me of a lightning bolt cascading through the night sky.
That’s not what catches my attention, though. It’s the contrast of this eye compared to his other. It’s as if they represent day and night, light and dark, right and wrong. It’s almost like this one was black at one point, but all the color has been sucked out, leaving a speckled light gray in its place. Somehow, it looks even more deadly than his black one, which shakes me to my core.
There is nothing pretty or soft about this man’s face. It’s all sharp, carved edges and screamsman,with dark stubble that peppers his jawbone. His fair skin is tanned from the sun, warming his sculpted features. He’s somehow devastatingly beautiful in a rugged way.
His brown leather pants hug every inch of his tree trunk legs, paired with a simple white cotton shirt strangling the life out of his swollen biceps.
My eyes bulge out when I take in the chaotic tattoos covering his entire left arm—abstract shapes, swirls, and landscapes, all blending together in unison to create a sleeve. The same arm still has a death grip firmly around the entirety of my dainty neck.
Blinking out of my trance, I cast narrowed eyes aimed right at him. “Are you going to let go of my neck, or do you choke out every woman who defies you? No shame here—I know some people are into that sort of thing—but there’s a time and a place, andnowis definitely not it.” I add a hint of annoyance to my tone to get my point across.
He glances down at his hand, just now realizing he has a death grip on me, and releases quickly, like his skin burns where we connected.
“Where is your stuff?” His deathly low growl sets my temper ablaze.
“One, are we just going to skip over the fact that you just punched me in the face and possibly broke my nose?” Taking a step closer to him, I shove my finger into his chest, making me wince as my finger bends against his unyielding brick wall of muscle. “And two, everything of value to me fits in this bag.” I point at the bag previously strapped over my shoulder, now thrown across the room.
“Is your nose broken?” he deadpans.
“Well, how should I know? I’m no healer.” I fold my arms across my chest, jutting my chin up for dramatic effect.
“You look fine to me. Now, let’s go. We’re late as it is since you wanted to sleep in.” He turns and starts to walk away without another glance.
“What?” I stutter. “Are you a certified healer or something?”
“Or something,” he shoots over his shoulder as he continues to walk away from me.
“Are you even old enough to come to that conclusion?” I say, more to myself than him, but of course, he has super hearing, because why wouldn’t he?
“I’m twenty-one. Now, keep up.”
Men—they really have the audacity, I swear.
I’ve never met someone who could get under my skin as easily as this man has in less than five minutes. My exterior is normally an impenetrable force of nature, resulting in people running when they see me. Theo called it my superpower. For some reason I can’t place my finger on, this man makes my insides crawl with fire. The flame inside me that’s long since extinguished sparks to life again in an instant. He makes my skin itch like my whole body is ablaze, and I don’t like it one bit. Two can play at this game, though, and I fight fire with fire.
“Are you at least going to apologize for ruining my pretty face with your fist?” I pretend to throw daggers with my eyes at the back of his unknowing head.
“Sorry,” he says bluntly.
“Do you mean it?”
“No. Now keep up,” he grunts.
“You really are a real charmer, you know that?” I spit the words like venom, hoping they strike true.
“Not interested.”
My eyes widen in shock. “Ha. As if I would ever touch you, even if we were the last two citizens left to repopulate the lands, you…you brute!”
