The Fallen (Hades Castle Trilogy #1) - C.N. Crawford Page 0,26

all the details of your life this disturbing?”

“You have no idea.” I stared at the table, my stomach rumbling sharply. I grabbed a bunch of grapes, and the tangy juice exploded in my mouth. Grapes. I’d only ever had them once, when they happened to arrive on a ship I’d been pilfering from. I’d never forgotten the taste. A trickle of the juice ran down my chin, and I wiped it off, then licked my finger.

When I looked up, I found Sourial staring at me with a disconcerting intensity. I’d expected to see disgust at my table manners. Instead, he was giving me a deeply sexual look, desire flickering in his eyes. “Enjoying yourself?” he purred, voice smooth as whiskey.

My breath shallowed, and I turned away from him. On the other side of the room, a bed lay nestled into an alcove of books, covered in a silky crimson blanket.

Two different emotions pulled me in either direction: one was joy, and the other was frustration. The chandelier hanging from the ceiling was pure gold, I was sure. The sheets probably cost a fortune. And I’d grown up around kids who starved to death, mums who died of exhaustion.

I had a million questions ready to spill from my tongue, but the most pressing one was— Why me? Why give me a room like this, fit for a queen? I was just a thief—nothing more, nothing less. I didn’t matter.

I leaned against the column that rose from the center of the room, feeling the cold stone against my bare back.

Sourial crossed to a wardrobe that stood in the arched alcove next to the bed. “Eat, bathe, and then you’ll find whatever clothing you need in here. I’ll come back for you later.” His gaze trailed up and down my body, and I felt my chest flushing.

He stalked closer to me. “I can hear your heart racing, you know, when I look at you.”

I stood against the column, staring at him. How could I not stare? “Don’t misinterpret it.”

He moved closer still, and held his wineglass up to me—more of a golden goblet, really. “Take a sip. You’ve never tasted anything so good.” His voice somehow promised pain and pleasure in one—silky smooth, but with an edge beneath it.

I looked into his eyes over the rim of the chalice—hazel, shot through with the deepest gold. His scent was musky and seductive. I wondered what he looked like when his wings were out.

Never before had I wanted to drink something more. So I took it from his hands, and I drank, letting the deliciously ripe wine roll over my tongue. He was right. I’d never tasted anything so amazing. I closed my eyes, taking another sip, pleasure sliding over my tongue.

When I opened my eyes again, I saw him staring at me, his irises dimmed to the black of a night sky—sinful and seductive.

Don’t let him enchant you, Lila.

I handed the chalice back and pulled my gaze away from him, catching my breath. “Lord Sourial? Do you know why I was chosen?”

“You want something from me,” he murmured. “Answers. What do I get in return? Information is currency.”

I nodded. “Knowledge is power.”

“So what will you give me?” His smooth voice caressed me.

I already knew what he wanted. “A kiss?”

His dark eyes flashed with gold, and he was so close to me now, I could feel the heat pouring off him. As soon as his hand touched the side of my face, I felt the erotic pleasure of an angel’s touch.

Mesmerized, I found my breath hitching. His gaze trailed down my body like a sensual caress, taking in everything. I felt as if he could see right through the tattered material I wore.

When his look brushed up my body again, it lingered on my mouth. My belly swooped with heat.

He’s beguiling you, Lila.

“You are particularly delicious,” he murmured. One of his arms pressed against the column behind me, boxing me in.

Then, he wrapped his other hand around the back of my neck. Delicious warmth spilled through me at his touch. Heat pooled between my thighs, and a need was building in me.

He leaned in closer, and along with the musk, I breathed in the scent of jasmine. I licked my lower lip, and his eyes caught the movement, pupils dilating.

When his lips pressed against mine—the touch light—molten heat rushed, making me ache for him. He’d hardly touched me at all, and already I knew it was magic, but the lust was real all the same.

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