“Rumor holds that Sabine trapped him to use as a sex slave, tormenting him until he agreed to wed her. Then he made a slave of her.”
She blinked at him. “Like those are bad things?” At his look of astonishment, she said, “They enjoyed tons of bondage, some master/sub stuff, a real-live dungeon with shackles, role and cosplay. Spankings and repeated orgasm denial. You know, typical BDSM. But don’t worry, they were doing it before it became cool.”
“BD what?” Thronos’s expression was priceless—part confusion over the lingo, part horror, part helpless fascination. She’d bet this angel had an untapped wicked streak.
“Look, it’s not for us to understand. It worked for them.” The whole truth was much more involved. Sabine had wanted to overthrow Omort, seizing the kingdom for her and Lanthe to rule, while gaining control of the mysterious, demonic Well of Souls in Castle Tornin. No one had ever expected Sabine to fall for Rydstrom—least of all Sabine.
Thronos helped Lanthe over a resin pit. “Answer the question.”
“Fine. Rydstrom was able to forgive her because he got a like revenge. Everything she did to him, he did to her.”
“The parallel would be for me to bed scores of other women. Which is impossible.”
“Then lucky for me I’m not looking for your forgiveness. I’m happy to have experience and to know my own mind.”
He appeared to be grinding his molars to dust, but he didn’t make any slut-shaming comments.
“Look, my sister went to Rydstrom a virgin. In a hundred years or so, do you think she’ll imagine what it’s like to know another male? Maybe she will, maybe she won’t. But do you think Rydstrom will worry that she’s imagining it?” She continued, “All those virgin females out there will always have to wonder. I won’t. I am informed. I’ve done my due diligence, and now I’m ready to settle in for the long haul of eternity.”
“That is something to consider, I suppose.” Then his brows drew together. “By that logic, in a hundred years you’ll wonder if I’m thinking about other females.”
In a throaty voice, she said, “Thronos, understand me: if I ever decided to bed you, there would be no doubt. You’d be completely undone, absolutely taken, forever mine. If you were ever inside me, you would be broken down at a molecular level—altered irretrievably.”
His expression told her he very much wanted to be altered irretrievably. “You guarantee this because of your . . . experience?”
When she merely shrugged, she expected him to launch into a tirade about her past. Again, he held off.
Yet she didn’t think this was because he’d had a change of heart. He might not be calling her a harlot, but he still had to think of her as one.
Lanthe had a theory about his turnaround. Before, he’d seen her as a sexual object for other males; after Inferno, he now viewed her as a sexual object for himself to enjoy—and, sadly, she believed he’d learned his first lesson as a potential sexual partner: Act like an a**hole and you won’t get any.
Which meant he was biding his time and biting his tongue until he could get what he wanted.
Just like every other male she’d been with.
TWENTY-FIVE
Oh, look! Pitha fruit.” Melanthe stretched for a black gourd above her, just out of her reach. She scratched at the bottom of it like a little kitten.
He pulled the fruit down for her, scenting it. “This could be poisonous.”
“It grows in Rothkalina.”
He cracked open the gourd for her. The inside was succulent and smelled sweet.
When he handed the halves to her, she scooped some into her mouth, then rolled her eyes with delight.
“You’re certain of that?” he asked. “Though Sorceri are vulnerable to poisons?”
She was already finished with one half. “Poisons and venoms.” Between chews, she said, “But I’m sure of this.”
“How did you get cured of that morsus anyway?”
“When Omort died, his poisoner—a fey female dubbed the Hag in the Basement—delivered the antidotes to us. Otherwise we would’ve died.”
Yet another time Melanthe might’ve perished when she’d been outside his protection. “This hag did so despite the fact that you called her that?”
Melanthe shrugged, taking another bite, chewing happily.