The Darkest Seduction (Lords of the Underworld #9)(14)
Author: Gena Showalter

“Just leave that to me,” she said, mimicking his earlier words. “And, hey, here’s another idea. Why can’t you kill him? I thought you were all-powerful.”

“Enough!” With a scowl as dark as a moonless night, Cronus slammed his fists on either side of her temples, creating holes in the wall and causing bricks to fall and dust to plume in the air.

Rattle…rattle…

Great. The entire castle was shaking again.

“How dare you, a slave, question me? I am your master, your owner. The arbiter of your fate. I answer to no one.”

Except to your wife. With the royal sovereigns, hurting one always hurt the other, pain slithering across the bond between them. But Sienna wasn’t going to remind him of that little gem. “I don’t care who you are. I will not align myself with Galen.”

Before she could so much as blink, Cronus fit his hands around her neck and squeezed until she could no longer breathe, until her lungs burned and her throat felt scaled by acid. Rattle, rattle, went the walls, as if the entire structure might collapse from within. “I can be the executioner of your soul, and you will cease to exist in every way, or I can be your savior, granting you a measure of peace at long last.” Tighter…tighter…then, abruptly, the pressure eased. “Remember that, for you are the one who will decide your ultimate fate.”

She barely curbed the urge to feed him both of her knuckles. “Whatever I decide,” she snapped, uncaring of the consequences, “you’re still an ass**le.”

Surprising her, he gave a grin full of teeth. “Aren’t I, though?”

At one time, Sienna had been mild mannered, afraid of hurting anyone’s feelings, desperate to smooth any and all ruffled feathers. Maybe the demon’s bad mood had bled into her. Or maybe the waspishness came courtesy of knowing just how worthless her entire life had been. Either way, she had never had more to lose—or cared so little.

“You should have picked someone else to host Wrath. Because…wait for it…my answer is still no.”

Rather than adding fuel to the seething cauldron of his temper, her words seemed to make him back down. His features softened, the murderous rage draining from his gaze, his taut lips sliding back over his teeth. He lowered his arms.

Shocking.

“No,” he said, gentle, so gentle now. “There was no better choice than you.”

Her heart drummed fitfully in her chest. Though she was dead, her spirit self had developed a heartbeat, a need to breathe, the moment the demon had entered her soul-body. Unfortunately, this meant she could feel pain and if cut she would bleed.

“Why me?” she finally asked. “You have to tell me something.”

“Do I?” He turned, offering his profile and ignoring her question. “In this realm hidden from the rest of the heavens, where no one will ever find you, I don’t have to do anything.”

A muscle drummed rapidly in his jaw, and before she could reply he added, “Do you enjoy living here, Sienna?”

“No.” Not because she was magically compelled to remain inside this castle, but because he’d done what he could to make her time here a misery. Including digging deep inside her mind and yanking out the worst of her memories. Those memories played out like movies in every room, a never-ending stream of persecution, guilt and shame.

Every day she relived Skye’s abduction. How she’d failed to save her sister from the man dragging her away. Every day she witnessed the loss of the baby she’d been unable to bring to term, something she hated remembering, would never willingly dwell on. Every day she saw her foolish betrayal of the beautiful Paris. How she’d hurt the first man to ever make her crave more. How she’d condemned him simply because of his race.

“That’s too bad. Because you will remain here until you agree to return to your flock and become my spy.”

Back in the air went her nose. “If those are my choices, I’ll stay here forever.”

Cronus tossed her another grin, a cruel twist of his lips that lacked any hint of amusement. “Is that so? What if I told you that I picked you because of your sister?”

“I would demand to know why.” Her eyes narrowed to tiny slits, the king of Titans in their crosshairs. He was tricky, without morals and utterly devious. She had to be careful. “I would also point out that you could have played that particular card sooner.”

“Not if I feared you would obsess over her and forget my purpose. Now, however, you have left me no choice.”

She feigned nonchalance and buffed her nails.

He hissed at her. “What if your precious Skye once lived with Galen? What if she bore him a child?”

Take me swimming, Enna. Please, please, please. I’ll never ask for anything ever again.

“I don’t believe you.” The denial gasped from her, a croak of dismay. He’s lying. He has to be lying. “Show her to me.” She forced herself to add, “Please,” though the word was gritted.

He wasn’t done. “What if Galen is the only one who knows where they are? What if he tortures them? What if becoming his whore is the only way for you to learn the truth? The only way to save them?”

“I—I—” Had no answer. He’s lying! The scream of desperation echoed through her mind—her own, not her demon’s. She had to stay strong. Had to insist he present at least a modicum of proof before she reacted.

“Think about all I have told you, my darling Sienna. I will return soon and we will discuss any new duties you might wish to take on.” With that, he disappeared, there one moment, gone the next.

Sienna sank to her knees, her strength leaving with the king. Her eyes burned, her chin trembled. Her wings pulled and folded in ways they shouldn’t, and a sharp cry escaped her. Every damned day was a new lesson in horror for her.

Tears trickled down her cheeks, scalding her skin. How much more could she take? How much longer until she broke?

For Skye, she’d do just about anything, and Cronus knew that. Skye was all she had left, having somehow become both sister and daughter in her mind. Made sense, though. She’d only known her sister as a little girl, and the baby she’d lost, a girl as well, had never gotten the chance to grow out of infancy. And the possibility of a niece or nephew? Yeah, she’d do anything.

Cronus knew that. No wonder he’d reined in his temper. He didn’t have to hurt her physically to get what he wanted. No wonder he’d chosen Sienna for his games. She was still a puppet, the strings she thought she’d cut anchored to another master’s hand.