River of Shadows (Underworld Gods #1)

Naturally, I took advantage of having Bell in my room and through hushed words and drunk whispers while I sat beneath the fish tank, she tried to give me advice. Mermaids take sexual freedom to a whole new level, that’s for sure, and she can’t really understand my problem, I guess because she knows Death intimately already. But she made sure that I knew I could still have control. I didn’t have to hand all the cards to him. I could go into it wanting it.

I just don’t know how that’s possible now that the wine has worn off. Yes, there is a teensy tiny part of my libido that finds this all intriguing, but it’s the same reason why my nipples got hard around him. He gives off this strange energy, I don’t know if it’s all the danger, power and uncertainty, but it crackles between us. Maybe he just smells good. Maybe he’s just a big guy and while the most I’ve actually seen of his body is his hand…it’s a good hand

Aside from the immediate death aspect of it.

Whatever works, I tell myself, fidgeting on the bed. Whatever works.

I’m just glad that I put a towel over the fish tank, much to Bell’s disappointment. While she obviously has no problems with watching Death have his way with me, I don’t want her witnessing this…whatever this is.

I move my face to the side and take in a deep breath, staring out the window. I was hoping to see the stars because that would mean that Death forgot all about me and is asleep, but it’s as misty as ever.

The sound of a lock in a key fills the room.

Oh god.

He’s here.

I keep my face where it is, remembering his instructions. I don’t dare look over my shoulder. A faint splash of light moves across the room as the door opens and then closes, latching shut.

I close my eyes.

I hear his heavy footfall as he slowly walks across my room, his strides deliberate and purposeful, his boots echoing. He gets closer and closer until I feel his presence right behind me at the foot of the bed.

He exhales, low and deep, and I hear a buckle being undone, perhaps his belt buckle.

Oh god.

I swallow, my heart in my throat, and try my best to keep it together.

“You’re not complying with my wishes,” Death says in a rough voice that sends a shiver down my spine. “Perhaps I should have made it more of a command.” The bed shakes a little as I know he’s pressing himself against it. My mouth goes dry with fear. “I wanted you naked with your ass in the air. You’re not doing either of those things.”

Yeah. And I’m not drunk anymore. So go fuck yourself.

I want to turn around and try to claw his eyes out. I want to kick him where it hurts. I want to use all the fight I have in me to try and destroy him. I want to feel power that I don’t possess.

But I know it will do me no good. Bell is right in that there is only one way out of this. I can’t fight Death off, I can’t escape from his castle—yet. It can only happen in due time, when I learn to play the game right. So far, I’m not doing a very good job of it.

And so I push up so my ass is in the air, and I pull the white nightgown over my body, slipping it over my arms until I’m completely bare in front of him.

And I wait, holding my breath, my entire body feeling frozen in place.

Death inhales sharply. I take some comfort in that, in that he likes what he sees.

It’s all that I have to barter for my life with.

I hear the metal of the buckle again and then feel him lean forward. He gently places his hands on the back of my thighs. I jump, startled at his touch. His gloves feel like leather and when he gets a better grip, they make a stiff groaning sound that reverberates around the room. It’s strangely erotic, like the sound of a leather whip before it cracks.

His hands then tighten against my skin, and he’s sliding them up, up, until they’re cupping my ass, spreading my legs in slow increments and my eyes are pinched shut, wishing my body would just give in and relax.

But then he pauses.

A low grumbling noise emits from his chest.

He removes his hands from my thighs and then I feel him press his palm against my spine.

“You’re trembling,” he says in a hush. “Why are you trembling?”

I didn’t even notice. I thought I was frozen in place, but instead my limbs are shaking uncontrollably. So much for pretending to not be afraid, so much for taking agency.

“Are you afraid I’m going to hurt you?” he murmurs, running his gloved hand over my spine. “Do you think that’s what I want to do?”

I can’t answer him. I bury my face into the blankets, wishing all of this would go away.

“You do,” he says after a moment. “You disappoint me, Hanna. You think that because I am the God of Death, that it is the same as a God of Pain. I promise you, I am not here to make you hurt, little bird. Any creature can inflict pain in the name of conquest and self-pleasure. It takes no skill, no intelligence, no courage, nor no strength to only take, leaving suffering behind. To cause pain is the mark of an idiot, one without a true sense of self, a life coming together to signify nothing.”

He takes in a deep breath, his fingers skirting down over my ass, his touch light and delicate. “Here I thought we were on the same page, my dear. I thought in your gumption and your boldness, that perhaps you wanted this. But no. I’ve caught a look in your eyes in which I am seeing only what I want to see.”

I feel the heat of his body pull away and then his gloved hands leave me.

“My apologies, Hanna,” he says gruffly. “You are not who I thought you were. You do not want what I thought you wanted.”

Then I hear the sound of a buckle fastening, a low exhale of breath, and then the sound of his boots as they walk away, sounding less ominous than before.

It isn’t until the door closes and I hear that lock and key that I collapse onto the bed, wondering what will become of me now.





Chapter 15





The Library of the Veils





“Another snowstorm,” Bell says from her tank, waking up for the day. “Sheesh, you really did a number on him, didn’t you?”

I stare outside my window, leaning my head on the frozen glass. Outside, snowflakes are swirling violently in the sky. I can barely make out the far-off mountains, their jagged peaks faint in the blowing white, while the angry gray sea crashes against the icy rocks below, as if it’s lashing out punishment.

It’s been like this for days, ever since Death left my room in the middle of the night. I haven’t seen him, so I can’t take personal responsibility for the change in the weather, but I can’t help but feel it’s my fault.

Not that I’m feeling bad that I left him with blue balls. But I do feel strange about it all. I did talk a big game. I teased. I acted a certain way and then at the last minute I felt all courage and bravado leave me. In the end, I was just plain scared.

And yes, I was scared that he would hurt me. He says he’s not the God of Pain, but I’m also his prisoner, everyone tells me he hates mortals, he also did threaten me with an eternity of terror, basically, so why wouldn’t I think he’d physically hurt me and take whatever he wanted with impunity?

But what has me feeling strange about it all is how quickly he backed off the moment he realized I wasn’t happy. I wasn’t expecting that. I was expecting much worse, or at best, a guilt trip. I’ve been guilted by guys before when I told them I wasn’t sleeping with them, and while I’ve been lucky that they all sulked off and managed to deal with their bruised egos and libidos in other ways, I didn’t think that would be the case with Death. If it wasn’t for the fact that I’m his prisoner and possession for eternity, I could almost call him a gentleman.

Almost.