The Dark God's Bride

by Dahlia Lu

  “Not yet? I thought I was already there.”

  “Trust me, you will know.”

  “You’re a bit obsessive, aren’t you?”

  He grinned. “I prefer dedicated or determined.”

  “Right…” she said dryly. “Are you going to sleep next to me every night for the next… millennia?”

  “You can count on it.”

  I’ll count on three years, maybe even less.

  “Don’t you find that a bit too intimate?” she asked.

  Upon seeing him quirk a brow, she took a step back. She regretted the question as soon as it had left her mouth. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her to his hard torso.

  “I had no idea you had that in mind.”

  She struggled to get loose from his clutches, but to no avail. It felt like being trapped by a statue.

  “You should have told me you’re in the mood to commit …adultery,” he rasped softly into her ear.

  She forced an uncomfortable laugh. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

  “Do I?” he mused as he intimidatingly breathed down the side of her neck. She felt frightened, which was about right, and excited, completely wrong. Her nervous hands squeezed and her nails unintentionally dug into his shoulders.

  She heard a low growl coming from him and swiftly shoved him back. This time, he released her. The struggle would have sent her straight for the floor if he hadn’t caught her by the wrists and planted her firmly on her feet.

  “Wash up. Breakfast...” He instructed those two things and then disappeared into thin air.

  Though flushed, the tone of his voice got her thinking. She wondered if he had intended to sound so swift and coarse before he rushed out. If she’d learned anything from years of reading romance novels, it would be that the male protagonists almost always fall for their own seduction scheme. She’d figured he wanted to taunt her, but … felt the effect of her charms? Perhaps he did find her attractive – that or he was having another revelation.

  And was he really intent on keeping me prisoner here for the rest of my life assuming I have a century, which I don’t?

  Not if she could help it.

  “Who is my favorite fictional virgin temptress?” she pondered with an impish smile on her lips.

  Chevalier and Trent stared at each other from across the table in the breakfast nook. Chevalier slowly stirred his black coffee and then drank half while it was still scalding hot. He placed the cup back on the plate and leaned back against the chair.

  “Well,” he began the conversation, “You sure you don’t want a cup of coffee?”

  Trent shook his head.

  “Amara is prone to being kidnapped for some unknown reason,” Chevalier said casually. “Not to worry, she’ll turn up in a day or two. For all we know, she’s probably befriending her kidnappers as we speak.”

  “Probably,” Trent speculated.

  “I am curious as to why that ‘god’ is relentlessly chasing after her. Do you think we’ll be invited to a wedding soon? I might need to buy a new suit.”

  “That would be a very interesting turn of events, but I doubt it.” Trent sighed. “Mother said that he came to the castle looking for her, but kidnapped Amara by mistake because she was a mortal.”

  “He thinks your mother is still a mortal?”

  “Apparently so...”

  “I have a feeling that this has something to do with Lucifer. You don’t look surprised, Trent.”

  “My father has a long list of enemies,” Trent said wryly.

  “Okay…” Chevalier drawled. “With that aside, how are you and … Nala?”

  Trent scowled. “You know I don’t like talk about it.”

  “But I do.” Chevalier leaned forward on the table when he saw Trent’s eyes narrowed. “What are you going to do? Strike me down?”

  “You are picking at an open wound, Chevalier,” Trent warned.

  “I can’t just sit idly by and watch that wound festering up. I only want to know one thing – do you love her?”

  “Don’t ask questions you already know the answers to.”

  “Stop deflecting the question. From my stance point, you’re just fighting fate and fate always wins.”

  “I will not have her live in a lie, Chevalier, I cannot.”

  “Nala is the other part of you – your other half. Stop tormenting each other.”

  “You won’t be able to understand,” Trent said warily as he dematerialized.

  Chevalier placed a hand over his chest. “Speaking of open wounds…”

  Chapter Seven

  He’d gone completely insane! That may have been a logical explanation to his unwarranted reaction to the mortal. There was simply no other way to rationalize it. Only a madman would find that scrawny, conniving, grey eyed mortal worthy of a reaction. Somehow, she always managed to exasperate him. He’d kept half of his sanity intact while spending half an eternity in completely darkness, and she effortlessly sabotaged the other half in less than four days’ time.

  Irritating – utterly irritating!

  He sensed her coming and sure enough, the mortal came into the dining hall minutes later wearing a half buttoned white shirt. It didn’t look like she had on anything else. She excitedly stared at the breakfast and licked her upper lip with the tip of her pink tongue.

  His throat felt dry.

  She made it to the table and knelt on both legs on the chair. She leaned forward as if she was about the crawl onto the table to reach for an apple on the other side of the table.

  He muttered a curse in his old language and then joined her at the table. The improperly button shirt and her crouching position showed a preview of her perky breasts.

  “Don’t you have anything else to wear?” he asked immediately.

  “There were only male clothes in the closet – your clothes,” she replied and her large grey eyes popped at him. “Does this bother you?”

  He didn’t reply.

  “If it does, then you should take me shopping.”

  “Shopping?”

  “You know, since I’m going to be your guest here for a long while, I should have clothes of my own. That is unless you want me to walk around in this every moment of the day. I don’t care either way, it’s quite comfortable.” She leaned toward him and said in a soft whisper, “Exceptionally comfortable.”

  “Yes,” he agreed. “We should get you some clothes.”

  She appeared thrilled and said in a very low and slightly creepy voice, “Excellent.”

  He lifted a brow at that.

  She smeared a thick layer of butter on her bagel and took each bite with palpable pleasure. A soft moan escaped her throat as she swallowed and then slowly licked the butter off of the corner of her lips.

  His body stiffened.

  Madness!

  “You should eat, too,” she said to him. His eyes were concentrated on the movements of her lips.

  “Food is not a necessity.”

  “I know, but that doesn’t mean you can’t eat.”

  He shook his head in refusal.

  “Try!” She leaned toward him, attempting to feed him her half-eaten bagel. He drew back as she accidentally knocked over his wine glass.

  “Oh dear!” she cried. “I am so sorry. I will clean that up.”

  “Stay where you are,” he said.

  “But…”

  “Stay,” he ordered as he waved his hand in a circular motion. The shattered wine glass pieced itself back together and returned to its place on the table.

  She stilled. “How did you do that?”

  “If anything breaks in this place, just leave it,” he said, ignoring her question. “Someone will come to clean it up.”

  “Someone…?”

  “The staff I hired.”

/>   “I haven’t seen anyone.”

  “I told them I value my privacy. Returning to the subject, try not to injure yourself.”

  She was staring at him with a puzzled expression on her face, as if she was asking him why he cared.

  “I do not care,” he clarified to her. “I need to keep you alive for my own purposes. Humans are disturbingly fragile.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to die from a glass cut.”

  He reached for her hand and shifted her back to their bedroom. Her free hand flew to her temple.

  He sighed. “If you will not listen to me, then I could always freeze you until I need you.”

  “No!” She protested. “I do not want to be frozen!”

  “Then you should not have turned that into an option for me.”

  “I’ll be…” she turned her head to the side, looking most unwilling, “obedient.”

  “Very good,” he praised.

  “Now that we’re here, I will try to find something decent to wear so we can go shopping. I assume you want to escort me just in case I try to sprint away again.”

  “Never twice,” he replied gruffly.

  “Are you still here? You want to watch me change, don’t you?” She slowly undid a button.

  His eyes narrowed.

  “Don’t you, my lord and master?” She undid another.

  Complete madness!

  He turned away and shifted into the next room.

  For this one semi–auspicious occasion, Amara will screw up her sense of money on purpose. Exclusive clothes, jewel-encrusted purses, limited edition shoes, as well as every other luxurious, brand name item she may or may not need, were all on her shopping list. If the store can provide, she will buy. And why not when she has a nouveau riche deity to foot the bill?

  “The times may have changed a number of things, but women are incorrigible when it comes to materialistic needs.”

  “And what do you know about women?” Amara asked as she tried on the dazzling pair of shoes with diamond soles. “They fit perfectly!”

  “I know enough,” he replied.

  “Oh? Have you ever been married?” She asked and then quickly shook her head. “What am I talking about, you’re a god.”

  “I was mortal once,” he admitted and it sounded as if there was bitter taste rolling down his tongue. “And yes, I was briefly married.”

  He had her full attention. “Did you love her?” she asked curiously.

  “Love is not the thing that binds a marriage, nor is it a necessary component. A husband provides and his wife rears his children. The arrangement is solid.”

  “Seriously, which century are you from?” She didn’t know why she had bothered to ask. He was older than ancient and so was his mindset.

  “What about children?”

  He lowered his eyes very briefly, as if mourning. “I had an unborn child.”

  “Unborn…?” She narrowed her brows. “What happened to it?”

  “It’s dead along with my wife. They were slaughtered in in front of my eyes while I could do nothing but watch.” He gave her a sardonic laughter. “Is it a habit of yours to dig up other people’s painful past? Were you pleased with the answer?”

  She shook her head. “You didn’t have to tell me.”

  He chuckled.

  “How can you laugh at that?”

  He shrugged. “What is more hilarious than a man being helpless while his family is murdered in front of his eyes? Almost nothing.”

  “Is that why you hate mortals? You hated what you once were?”

  “No,” he replied with a bland smile on his face, “That is only one of many reasons leading up to…” the rest of the sentence died in his throat. “Have you decided on what to purchase yet?”

  “All of them,” she gestured toward the mountain of boxes she’d tried on.

  “Alright,” he approved as he produced a plastic card from his wallet.

  She stared.

  “The magic of the ‘modern’ world,” he said to her. “I failed to bring enough currency for our little ‘shopping trip’.”

  She had bought a lot and it had all came with a hefty price tag.

  “Is that a credit card?”

  “It’s a debit. When I sold the gold, the brokers requested me to open a ‘bank account’ so they could ‘wire’ the sum into it – whatever that means.”

  “It means my things are getting paid for,” she replied and then turned to the saleslady. “I want my purchases delivered to my residence, is that doable?”

  The saleslady turned to the mountain of shoes. “You want all of them?”

  Amara snatched the debit card from Noctis’s hand and gave it to the saleslady who had been ogling at him since the moment he stepped foot into the boutique. Every woman in the boutique was. “I’ll buy as much as this card will allow.”

  The lady stared dumbfounded at her and then at Noctis. He gave her a nod of approval. “They cost around two thousand dollars a pair and the jewel-encrusted pair you have on is priced at nearly ten grand,” she reminded the both of them.

  Noctis gave her a go ahead wave and then Amara heard a wave of feminine sighs.

  “As much as this card will allow,” Amara repeated as she handed her a handwritten note, “and I want them delivered to this address. Except for these,” she looked down and admired the Swarovski crystals, “I want to wear these today.”

  “I’ll arrange it right away,” the lady said, barely able to hide the ‘this is my lucky day’ look on her face. She then leaned over and whispered into her ear, “You are so lucky. I would kill for a man like that.”

  Amara turned back to Noctis who was observing city through the boutique’s window. A sinfully handsome, six-foot-five male with the physique of a body builder was sitting next to her and buying her three years’ wage worth of designer shoes. It was almost perfect. If he only wasn’t her kidnapper intending on killing her in front of her supposed lover.

  Don’t faint just yet ladies. He’s a psycho!

  “Am I really lucky?” she asked herself.

  “What do you have in mind for our next stop?”

  “I want purses, lots and lots of purses.”

  “I do hope you understand that after today you will not be stepping foot out of our new home. What do you need purses for?”

  To soothe my irritation of you!

  “I don’t care! I want designer purses and totes and whatever I can get my hands on.”

  “Everything checked out fine,” the saleslady said as she handed back the debit card. “Please shop again with us soon.”

  He shrugged. “If it pleases you to own useless chattels, then by all means.”

  She shifted her seating position when her stomach growled. Half a bagel was definitely not enough to sustain her. “I’m hungry.”

  He reached for her hand. “I heard you.”

  “No!” She pulled back, knowing what he was about to do. “We walk!”

  So they walked to an Italian restaurant half a block away and were seated at a table in a shaded garden. Small rays of golden sunlight shined through the leaves and danced around on the circular mosaic tiles. It almost felt like a date… but not really.

  Don’t forget your objective is to seduce him, Amara!

  “I get distracted so easily,” Amara muttered to herself.

  “Signora?” the waiter boy called for her attention. “Are you ready to order?”

  A thought came to mind. She playfully brushed the teenager’s arm. “I am not married yet.”

  “I beg your pardon, Signorina,” the boy said. “You are so beautiful that I assumed you were attached.”

  She gave him a warm smile. “I do love compliments. You will grow up to be a fine man.”

  The boy inched up proudly. “Grazie,
Signorina!”

  “I will have the lasagna and a raspberry tea,” she ordered without looking at the menu. “My friend will not be eating.”

  “I will be right back with your tea,” the boy said with a smile.

  She spied a darkened look in Noctis’s eyes and smiled to herself. “Sweet boy,” she purposely added.

  “You have a talent for drawing people.”

  She straightened her back. “If you make people feel good about themselves, then they will naturally be drawn to you. I mean, would you want to be around someone who always put you down?” She focused her gaze on him, hinting.

  Instead of guilt, a smirk appeared on his face. She secretly wished she could strangle him.

  “Being ‘liked’ is not one of my aspirations.”

  “I know that, but you don’t have to run the opposite direction. I’m telling you right now, if you had another girl as your prisoner, she would have committed suicide within the first twenty four hours.”

  “So, you are saying you are strong-willed?”

  “No, I am saying that I am pretty tough and you already managed to break through the first layer of my shell.”

  “How many layers are there? I have a strong urge to seek completion to what I’ve started.”

  She glared at him. “Crack away, but you will regret it one day.”

  “What will I be regretting?”

  Deciding to keep that part a mystery, she leaned back against the chair as the waiter served the raspberry tea. She gave him another flirtatious brush and smiled up at him. The boy flushed and smiled back.

  “That boy is getting a big tip,” Amara said and then tasted her tea through the transparent pink straw. “This is awesome! You should take me here more often.”

  He eyed the waiter, who was stealing glances their way. “I don’t think so.”

  “Could I somehow persuade you to take me to class four days a weeks, three hours a day?” She continued on when he didn’t seem to comprehend. “I’m a college student. I go to school, an institution.”

  He observed her. “You are not a child.”

  “I know that,” she replied swiftly. “It’s completely voluntary and I like going to class.”