Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

Zinnia

It felt weird being in Death's huge bed on my own. It felt weird being in his room, period.

The fire crackled against the opposite wall, and that at least gave the place a bit of warmth, but here now, on my own, I was feeling out of place—insignificant.

I stroked Hemy, who had curled up beside my pillow, and that helped. But there was this niggling feeling inside me that wouldn't go away, that I didn't like much at all.

I'd never had low self-esteem or let insecurities get the better of me. I'd always been confident in who I was, how I looked, my place in the world. I'd basically raised my sister on my own since our mother was more absent than not. I'd protected Jasmine, taken over her care full time when Mom left to travel the world and barely looked back.

So I knew who I was. I was Zinnia Thornheart, Jasmine's big sister, and a powerful witch and medium. I'd liked being her—loved it, in fact. Being a god's consort? One of possibly ten other females? Nope, that had never been on the cards. So no, I'd never had low self-esteem, but I needed to know where I fit into all of this. With him? I'd definitely never be his one and only love; he'd possibly loved them all. I wasn't the jealous type, but it was an odd feeling being one of so many and possibly not his last consort either—there would be more after me, possibly many more. I guess that was no different than meeting someone and knowing they had a bunch of exes. It was normal, right?

Again, I wasn't the jealous type, but something was developing between us, something wild and huge and unstoppable, and I couldn't help but wonder if this was what it was like for him with all of them.

"I'm being an idiot," I said to Hemy. He hissed his disagreement. "You're just saying that because you love me." He squeaked, and I scratched his tiny chin. "Thank the goddess I have you, my sweetheart." Because now that we were back in the castle, I was feeling off-kilter. I wasn't sure what my role was anymore, what I was supposed to do.

Death was into me, that much was clear, and I was seriously struggling to come to terms with the fact that after eighteen months of coming here, I was now suddenly into him as well, like in a seriously big way.

The door opened, and he strode in.

His gaze sliced to the bed as soon as he walked in, and when he saw me, he grinned.

Not his normal grin. I'd never seen this grin; it lit up his entire face. "You're pretty drunk, huh?" I said, sitting up and leaning against the headboard.

"Not at all," he said, and the way he said it made it obvious that he was totally drunk.

"How much ambrosia did you and Somnus drink?"

He sauntered over, kicked off his boots, and then reached back, pulling off his shirt before tossing it aside. He stared down at me, eyes glinting. "I like seeing you in my bed, little witch, very much."

I laughed softly. "I can see that."

He flopped down on the bed beside me, then scooted over and wrapped his arms around my waist. "Fuck, I love the way you laugh. It's husky and so incredibly bewitching." I was still sitting, but now, with his big body wrapped around me and his head in my lap, I was stuck out of the covers.

I looked at the huge, tattooed god in my lap, his face relaxed in a way I'd never seen before, and my chest warmed. When was the last time he'd allowed himself to be this vulnerable?

"I like your laugh as well." I ran my hand along his shoulder, massaging.

He groaned, then dragged the sheet under him back and curled his hand around my bare thigh. "And I love your smooth skin." He pressed his nose to it. "And the way you smell, like honey and your garden and the night sky."

Now my belly was all swirly. "What does the night sky smell like?"

"Clean and crisp… overwhelming, breathtaking," he muttered. "What do I smell like?"

I blinked at his question, not expecting it at all. "Well—"

"And if you say death or some variation of it, like decay or rot, I'll tan your lovely ass."

Another laugh burst from me. "That does sound like something I'd say."

"Because I know you, my sweet Stella. I know all of you," he said, and there was a little more slur to his words.

Stella. Yes, it meant star, but I still didn't want him calling me that, especially when I'd had visions of him using that name affectionately with other consorts. There was no point calling him out on it while he was like this, though, and I didn't want to argue with him either, so I answered his question because despite him using that name, I was enjoying seeing Death like this—relaxed. Open. "Right now, you smell like leather and ambrosia and power," I said, giving him his answer.

"How does power smell?" he asked, turning my question back on me.

"Like endless shadows, vast and wild." I traced his lower lip. "Overwhelming, breathtaking."

He grinned. "Copycat."

"It's the truth."

He made a sound of agreement. "You always tell the truth, don't you, love?"

My heart kind of paused when he called me that, then exploded back to life. "I try to."

"Will you leave me?"

I was stunned silent for a moment, then quickly rallied. "I can't. We have a deal, remember?"

"But if you could, would you leave?"

I stared down at his profile. "If you'd asked me a couple of weeks ago, I would have said, yes, I would leave. Now… I'm not so sure."

He smiled, but his eyes stayed closed. "You're falling in love with me."

I had another of those heart explosions. "Again, you are being presumptuous. You're the most annoying male I've ever encountered. How could I ever fall in love with you?"

He chuckled at my sarcasm. "I have no idea, but you will."

"And will you fall in love with me?" I asked, while my heart tried to crawl into my throat.

He laughed again and shook his head against my lap as he held me tighter, as if I'd said something absurd, and I hated that sharp and unexpected disappointment filled me.

"I'm already in love with you," he murmured.

I froze.

His fingers dug deeper into my thigh, massaging, marking my skin with his long, scarred fingers. "That's why you can't leave me. I won't recover if you do, not this time."

He'd lost everyone, and in a couple of days, Somnus would be gone again as well. "Mors—"

His eyes opened, and he rolled to his back, looking up at me, holding me captive with that bright blue gaze swirling with shadows. "If you leave me, if you go and never return to me, there will be no coming back from the cloak. I'll let it consume me. I will retreat into it, and I'll never see you again."

He'd revert to the Death he was when I first came here, when he first came to me. The way he was looking at me, what he'd just said, it was too intense… too much. "I bet you say that to all your consorts," I said, trying to lighten the heaviness that had fallen over us.

His gaze searched mine, the darkness overtaking the bright blue, and all traces of humor, of softness, left his face. The shadows thickened around him.

My mouth went dry. What he wanted, what he was asking of me, was too much, too soon. "Death?"

He sat up suddenly and got off the bed.

"Death—"

"Rest. I have some things I need to do," he said, and then he walked out.

I stared after him, confused. He was angry with me again; I could feel it. What the hell did he expect? So much was changing so fast. Did he expect to profess his love for me and I'd fall at his feet? That I'd say it back? I wasn't ready to do that, and who knew if I ever would be? I was still trying to get my head around this whole thing—the parts I understood, anyway.

I wasn't where he was—I just wasn't. And honestly, I didn't think he was truly there either. He didn't love me, not yet. It was too soon. This was the fate thing making him think he felt that way. I cared about him. Goddess, I wanted him, but love? No, because falling in love with him, careening toward a fate that would more than likely see me losing him anyway, was the most terrifying thing I could imagine right now.

Sliding back down the mattress, I tugged up the covers. Hemlock snuggled in against me and instantly fell asleep. I, on the other hand, lay there for hours listening for Death's footfalls in the hallway, wondering where he was and just how hurt and angry he was with me.

* * *

Death lay on his back, one hand behind his head, the other resting on his stomach. He was asleep, so still and so utterly gorgeous. I glanced over at Hemlock; he'd gotten sick of my wriggling during the night and was on the chair across the room by the fire, fast asleep.

I turned back to the male beside me. I wasn't sure what time he came in. I hadn't heard him, but he must have been gone several hours at least because I'd been awake that long.

My body was pressed to his side, and I wasn't sure if I'd sought him out while I'd slept, restless from more visions of the females of his past streaming through me, sending me a message that I hadn't yet figured out, or if he'd pulled me against him when he'd returned.

Considering how we left things last night, I was assuming it was the former.

I appreciated his attempt at honesty last night. Even if he'd been drunk when he said all those things and even if I didn't believe he truly felt that way, I hated that I'd hurt him. Death had suffered a lot in his long life, and I didn't want to be another wound on his soul. He didn't deserve that. But he was expecting too much from me way too soon.

That didn't stop me from feeling guilty, though. Leaning deeper into him, I rested my hand on his stomach and kissed his chest. His skin was so smooth—no hair, just taut, smooth skin over lean, hard muscle. I slid my hand down his hairless stomach, wrapped my hand around his hard, smooth length, and stroked slowly.

Death made a rough sound before his eyes blinked open. He sucked in a breath. "Fuck," he said when he released it.

"You were just so tempting lying there, I had to touch," I said, kissing his stomach. "How are you feeling this morning?"

His fingers delved into my hair. "Like I want to wake with you pressed against me every morning," he growled.

I shifted, moving down his body, and his legs parted, giving me room to slide between them. "I've been wanting to do this for a while."

He shoved his pillow higher behind his head and looked down, watching me. "You going to suck me, wife?"

The way he said that, dear goddess, my pussy clenched. "That was the plan."

"Then don't let me stop you. I've stroked myself to visions of this, of you right there, licking those perfect, full lips, with eyes eager and hungry."

I squeezed my thighs together. "You have?"

"The things I've imagined, Zinnia—the rough, the slow and intense, the raw and fucking dirty—it's kept me sane and driven me to madness all at the same time."

The web of veins from his lower stomach down to his cock stood out in relief, his cock hard and thick against his flat stomach. I licked my lips. "I've had a few thoughts myself."

He reached down and cupped my face, sliding his thumb over my chin, across my lower lip. Hungry but okay to wait for me to do as I pleased. "I'm sorry I walked out last night," he said. "Sometimes, the way I feel… the things I want to tell you…" He shook his head. "I get… frustrated."

"I noticed." Like on the ship, how angry he was that I didn't know whatever it was he was so desperate for me to figure out. "Are you sure you can't just tell me whatever it is you want me to know?"

"Yes," he said, then fisted my hair, finally losing patience. "Suck me, my consort, before I lose my sanity."

"Your wish, my lord, is my command." Then I wrapped my mouth around the head of his cock and sucked him down as deep as I could, which wasn't far. His groan sent tingles of pleasure through me, and my inner muscles clamped down again.

Taking the base of his cock, I stroked as I sucked and kissed, as I teased him with my tongue, until he was panting hard, and then I took his smooth balls in my hand and massaged.

Death did an ab curl, hooked me under the arms, lifted me, spun me around, and planted me back on top of him so I was facing away. Then he gripped my hips and dragged me back until I was straddling his face. His tongue lashed my pussy, and I cried out, rocking against his mouth as I reached for his cock again and sucked him into my mouth. I could only just reach now with the height difference, and I could only suck the head into my mouth, so I used both hands to stroke the rest of his length while I sucked him as best as I could.

His tongue was relentless, working me the way he knew would get me off fast. I sucked him harder, rocking and moaning around his cock. Then he shoved two fingers inside me and sucked my clit, and I groaned, sucking him harder while I came against his mouth. His cock pulsed hard, and his hips lifted, thrusting deeper into my mouth as he came for me.

I collapsed on top of him, and he lifted me again, turning me back around like a rag doll and curling me into his side.

"Rest, love," he said, his lips against my hair. "When you wake, I'll fuck you and worship you until you pass out again."

"Sounds good," I said, wrapping my arm around his middle.

I drifted off to Death's chuckles.