Page 3 of Bride of Death
No, this waiting period has lasted long enough. It’s time to act. And I know exactly what move to make.
“By the time I’m through, your mate status will be known by everyone in all the realms,” I promise my soulmate. “Because I’m going to mark you as my fucking bride.”
Chapter 1
Sera
Several Weeks Later
My fist clenchesat my side, my desire to hit the dead guy in front of me igniting my nerve endings.
I’m not a particularly violent person. Actually, I’ve been called meek more than once in my life. Quiet.Shy, even.
But this guy is asking for an introduction to the new me.
Sera,as I’ve introduced myself to everyone here.
The old me,Serapina, died in the Monsters Night universe.
“Look, all I’m sayin’ is, you could use a mate like me,” Dead Guy drawls, his glass of ink sloshing dangerously close to the rim as he moves his hand in a dramatic gesture toward himself. “I’d be very good to you, little human.”
There’s that term again.Little human. He keeps tossing it around like it’s some sort of endearment.
But being the sole mortal in Death’s Den isn’t an endearing trait. It’s basically akin to wearing a shirt that says “Weakling” across the chest.
I’m not, of course. Wearing that shirt, I mean.
I’m wearing a tank top.
And jeans.
I shudder. Whoever invented this fabric deserves a date with the Blood River.
I never thought I would miss my clothes from back home—or anything, for that matter—yet here I am, yearning for my long skirts and laced-up tops.
Regency fashion,as my sister’s mates call it. That’s what Alina and I grew up wearing. But since relocating to the Netherworld Kingdom, she’s been slowly inflicting this world’s attire upon me.
Including the infamous skinny jeans hugging my legs now.
Ugh.
“I can save you from the games,” Dead Guy goes on. “?’Cause ya know they’re gonna draft y’all, right? Serve you right up on a platter for us to pick from.”
I stare at him. “What games?” I ask, finally responding to his babbling nonsense.
“The mating games,” he tells me, his white eyebrows waggling over his reddish-brown gaze. “Ya haven’t heard about King Onyx’s plans for all the unmated brides?”
Unmated brides.
I’m not sure if he’s talking about women left over from the canceled Hell Fae Bride Trials or the innocents that were kidnapped during Monsters Night last year.
A lot of the patrons in Death’s Den assume that’s where I came from—the Monsters Night event.
Since they’re partially right, I don’t correct them. They don’t need to know that I’m a charity case brought here by my sister and her overly generous mates.
Nor do they need to know that I’ll be exempt from whatever “event” King Onyx might be planning. Alina’s men would never allow me to play. Stars, they barely let me move into my ownplace last month. I can’t even imagine what they would say if I told them I wanted to participate inmating games.
Though, it shouldn’t be up to them what I do or don’t do.
