Chapter 10

I f Emily grinned any wider, her face would have split in two.

After my first, tantalizing taste of public degradation, I should have been unmoved by her smug stare while she cleaned me, dipping a washcloth into a bowl of soapy water. But alas, I blushed. My cheeks still flamed as I put on the new smallclothes she gave me—the same cut as the ones Skrain destroyed, made from the same golden silk.

Even as Emily brushed out my fringe and set the comb aside in a chest full of cosmetics, my face was still on fire. She squinted while she refreshed my makeup, humming in rhythm with the muffled drumbeat coming from the main chamber.

Sitting in this dreary room, furnished only with the basin, towels stacked on a crate, and the chair I sat on, the revelry outside didn't seem real. Like another world. The moments of passion I shared with Skrain were like a fever dream, but his taste lingered on my tongue.

I swallowed hard, my throat delightfully sore from his bejeweled length, and fresh dew soaked my underwear.

Creators, I'd never seen a man with piercings down there . I was almost disappointed I didn't get to feel his dick inside my pussy. The tail was amazing, too, but I wanted to experience all of him. His hands, his tail, his tongue, his cock.

"Skrain is quite demanding, isn't he?" Emily chattered, her question more of a statement. "But I'm surprised. I've never seen him give in to his base urges like this." She paused, lips pursing. "Actually, now that I think about it, in all the years I've worked for him, I've never seen him court anyone. To my knowledge, he hasn't even taken anyone to his bed. I thought he had no interest in those things."

A surge of silly butterflies rose from my belly, my shoulders stiffening. Did that mean I was special to him? With effort, I kept my voice somewhat relaxed as I responded.

"Isn't that what he paid for? A night of pure pleasure?"

"Well, he paid for your company . He has paid for the company of others, too."

I blinked. "He hired courtesans and didn't sleep with them?"

"In any town we travel to, I present him with the local selection of consorts, ranging from cheap to exclusive," Emily said, fussing with my hair. "A wealthy man of his station is expected to attend certain social gatherings, and that includes a companion to bring along and look pretty—even to his own celebration. But he's usually rather indifferent, picking a man or woman at random. He only ends up making reluctant small talk with them anyway." She snorted a giggle. "He was dead set on you, though, right from the moment I showed him the brothel's catalog."

My chest constricted.

So I was special to him … But only for a while longer. At sunrise, Skrain would be done with me.

I'd probably never see him again.

My breath halted. I shouldn't have cared. I'd known this man for half a night, but my heart still stopped when I thought about being separated from him.

What the Hells was going on with me? I've never had problems detaching sex from emotions before.

"All clean and tidy. You look perfect," Emily said, setting a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

Ripped from inexplicable grief, I flinched.

"Are you feeling well?" A shadow of worry crossed Emily's face before I nodded, and she smiled again. "Does that mean you're ready to go back?"

I chewed on my lip. "Can I have a few minutes alone, please? Just to collect myself."

"Of course. I'll go and let Skrain know. There's a guard right outside the door. Call on them if you need anything, and they'll fetch me to tend to you."

Emily left the room, closing the door behind her. I jumped up, the jewels on my dress jingling as I paced. Jaw clenched, I tried to calm myself by counting the steps from one side of the room to the other.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

There was no reason to be this anxious.

I stopped, pressing my palms to my face. My eyes burned with suppressed tears.

Maybe I was just overwhelmed. Tonight had been a lot of … well, everything . Attention, excitement, arousal. All those undefinable feelings bubbling in my chest when Skrain touched me, looked at me, smiled at me. When he breathed or blinked close to me.

Shit .

I groaned, balling my hands into fists.

This was a job for me. Nothing more. Nothing less.

The music got louder before the door muffled the melody once more, and I tensed. Why had Emily returned? I couldn't let her see me cry. Almost cry.

Thank the Creators I stood with my back to the entrance, or I would have made the most pathetic impression. If I was smart about it, I could've played my odd behavior off as being tired, my eyes misty from yawning.

I stammered, arms dropping to my sides without turning. "Uh, Emily, sorry. I need another moment. Could you please wait outsi?—"

Something cold and sharp pricked my bare back. A torrent of adrenaline whirled through me, and I froze.

"Don't scream, or I'll skewer you like a pig," a feminine voice bit out.

My blood ran cold. "W-who are you? What do you want?"

"You dare to ask who I am? What I want?" Shrill laughter like nails on a chalkboard pierced my ears, and I winced. "I want what's mine , you stupid bitch. I always knew Skrain would come back to me, and I waited for him for so long, but I saw the way he looks at you. All smitten … disgusting! You must have cast some vile spell on him!"

My breathing was so hectic, I could barely speak. "Me? I don't possess magic, I?—"

The blade retreated as a hand gripped my forearm, twisting me around. My eyes widened.

It was her , the red-haired human woman who glared at me when I arrived.

She blocked my way out, disdain in the downward tilt of her lips as she pointed a carving knife from the buffet tables at my throat.

"Skrain is mine ," she screeched, the slight wrinkles around her eyes deepening as her face contorted with rage. "You have no right to be with him! He loves me ! Me! Me!" She pounded her free fist against her chest with each me . "He just likes to play hard to get, but I won't let you ruin everything!"

The heel of her palm smacked into my sternum. I stumbled, my back hitting the wall before I caught myself. My heart hammered against my ribs as she skulked forward, her blade shaking.

I glanced at the door. The guard. What happened to the guard? How did she get in here unseen?

I lifted my trembling hands. "Please, there's no need for any of this! I'm just a comfort woman doing her job. Skrain doesn't care about me, I promise! I mean nothing to him."

A thick swallow worked its way down my throat.

That last sentence felt like a lie.

Even if I couldn't explain it, nothing wasn't what Skrain's touch had felt like. Nothing wasn't what his words sounded like. Nothing wasn't what the heat of his tone stirred in my chest.

His fingers, his tongue, his voice … they were sparks of fire, lighting me up inside, turning every part of me, from head to toe, into his .

"Once you're dead, Skrain will remember who really belongs with him! He'll be glad I got rid of you. You're just an obstacle in the way of our happiness!" The woman cackled, her knuckles white from gripping the knife. She raised the blade and?—

The door slammed open, hinges creaking as the handle banged into the wall. Skrain flew into the room. He bared his teeth in a bestial snarl, and his right palm split, a thick vine surging from his flesh, thrashing like a whip. Reddish, broad thorns grew along its length, glistening with dark venom.

I blinked as if my fluttering lids would dispel some sort of illusion. Then a realization hit me.

Skrain wasn't just Xar'vathi. There was something else, something evil inside him.

"My love!" the woman wailed, dashing toward him. "You're here?—"

"I'm the only one who's allowed to hurt Ella," Skrain barked, and the vine lashed out.

I covered my gaping mouth with my hand as it impaled her, ramming into her chest like iron.

A wet crack sounded. The squelching tear of flesh. Crimson sprayed across Skrain's rage-twisted features, over his hair, his horns, his clothes.

The knife fell from the woman's hand, clattering to the floor. She gargled, her lips forming silent words as she dropped to her knees, red pooling around her, flowing like rivers in between the stone tiles. Disbelief played in her dimming, teary eyes and she stretched a weak hand toward Skrain.

"Disgusting bitch," he spat. "Choke on your own blood."

A sanguine flood spilled from the woman's mouth as she collapsed, and with a last toe-curling snap, he ripped the vine from her chest cavity. In its thorny grasp was her beating, bleeding heart.

Finally, Skrain turned to me. The vine slithered toward me, presenting the organ like a sacred offering. It contracted, expelling a thin, sanguine mist. Once. Twice. Thrice. Then it stilled.

"For you," he rasped, shoulders twitching as he straightened. "Please, take it. It's my … apology. This never should have happened. I should have protected you."