Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 81261 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81261 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
It’s difficult to appreciate her rounded backside with the angry welts between her shoulder blades. Once she’s submerged to her shoulders, she moves over to the far side where an arrangement of soaps sit alongside clean cloths.
She’s silent, and I’m content to watch as she bathes, never revealing any of her body to me. There are times when she shoots lethal looks my way, and I smile in amusement.
After she washes and rinses her hair, she asks, “So, what’s the job I have to do?”
I start to answer, but her eyes narrow. “Oh shit… it’s not to… like… service you, is it?”
I snort, although I wouldn’t say no if she offered. “It’s to pour drinks for a council meeting in a few hours. You’re to keep cups filled but otherwise keep your mouth shut.”
“Thank God,” she mutters as she leans her head against the edge of the tub.
Her abhorrence of me is irritating. “You’re too skinny for my tastes, anyway.”
An absolute lie, but I’m the ruler of the Underworld. Evil is my middle name, and there’s not an ounce of remorse in telling her untruths.
Nyssa glares at me. “I wouldn’t be so skinny if you fed us properly.”
That surprises me. I have no clue how or when she’s fed, but I don’t let her see that it bothers me. I wave a hand in dismissal. “You were skinny when you got here.”
“I’m just saying, you work us to the bone, barely feed us, and then expect us to do it all over again the next day.”
Standing from the bed, I move to the tub. She sinks a little lower in the water, but it’s clear and I can see everything. “You do understand you’re in Hell, right? You murdered a man. Things aren’t supposed to be comfortable for you.”
“I’m well aware of the concept,” she says through gritted teeth.
My gaze moves over her body, not holding my interest back. “If you wanted to work for me personally, I would see that you got more food. Better clothing.”
She snorts. “I know what work for you personally means. No, thank you.”
I grin and shrug. “Worth a shot. Someone will be by to get you in a few hours to take you to the council room. Remember… pour drinks and keep your mouth shut.”
She gives me a snappy salute. “Aye-aye, Captain.”
I turn on my foot before she can see the smile on my face.
CHAPTER 8
Nyssa
I grind my teeth as I stand by the long table that holds food and carafes of wine, awaiting the arrival of… well, I’m not sure who’s coming. I think I remember Amell saying it was a council meeting, but I’m not sure. It was hard to pay attention with the king’s proximity to me while I was bathing.
It’s not that I was shy about being naked. Showing my body has never bothered me.
It has more to do with the fact that he’s a man—no, a fallen angel—who elicits a wide variety of emotions.
First and foremost, I hate him for no other reason than he’s the source of my current state of flux.
But I’m also intrigued because while he rules Hell with an iron fist and could throw me in the Crimson River whenever he feels like it, he’s given me a reprieve. And that standoff with Rhynda over the spilled sugar was mind-boggling. He stopped her from beating me and ordered her to have a care. Granted, he considers me only a possession, but I could tell by the look on Rhynda’s face, he’s never done that before.
And then, there’s the problem that I find the man—beast—far too attractive, which makes me more intrigued and dampens the hate. There’s no other way to describe him—he’s simply beautiful. From his massive body, rippled with muscle covered with golden skin, to the perfection of his face. The classic square jaw, full lips, and mesmerizing eyes. He’s a fucking romance novel hero who happens to sport two massive black wings that, when spread, have to be at least fifteen feet wide. They arch higher than his head and are so long, the feathers drag along the ground. When I was following him earlier, I had to be mindful not to step on them.
I wonder what they feel like. Are they as soft as they look? So black they shimmer blue anytime the light hits, and in this monochrome world, the tint to his wings is actually quite brilliant.
My teeth grind even harder that I’m sparing more than ten seconds of my energy to think about his physical appearance or the way he gave me a hot bath, because I did indeed stink. It’s awful living in these conditions, but I suppose I better get used to it.
I can’t trust him, though, and I have to remind myself what Will told me… everyone here is evil, and I shouldn’t utter a single word or take an action without remembering that.