Day Zero (The Arcana Chronicles #3.5) - Kresley Cole Page 0,3

have already healed.”

My heart begins to thunder at the sight of her bare flesh. Noting my interest, she glides the material higher, as if searching for the wound.

Unable to stop myself, I step closer. Words leave my lips: “Empress, I can touch you.”

“Should I believe that?” She drops her skirt. “If I trusted you, and you lied, I would die.”

“Our Lady of Thorns suspects me of lying.” I shake my head at the irony. “Not only can I touch you, we were together two games ago.”

“Together on a raid? In an alliance? My chronicles say nothing of this.”

I gaze past her. “You were separated from your chronicler.” After I’d captured the Empress.

“And then?”

“And then we . . . wed.”

She laughs. “My Grim Reaper has a sense of humor after all.”

I give her a tight nod. “I see I will have to prove it to you.”

_______________

That night, she wakes with my palm over her mouth. Her eyes flash open.

My bare skin against hers. With Fauna’s sentries gone, I easily slipped past the Empress’s vines into this villa.

She casts me a murderous look, thinking her life is over.

Seconds tick by. Yet nothing happens. No pain. No streaks of black across her skin. Even though I’d discovered her immunity centuries ago, it still strikes me as miraculous.

Of all the people in the world, over all time, she is the only one I can touch without killing.

She frowns.

“I told you.” I remove my hand from her mouth, unable to keep myself from stroking the silken skin of her cheek. So starved for touch.

She blinks at me. “Were we truly married?”

“Yes. Empress, you were born for me, and I for you. One day I will convince you of this.”

Brows drawn, she admits, “I’ve had thoughts of you that I could not reconcile. Desires for you.” She runs the pad of her finger over her lips, gaze growing distant.

I swallow thickly. Can she tell how badly I want this to be true? “What are you thinking, Empress?”

She meets my eyes. “Guess.”

I answer as honestly as ever. “I believe you plot to take my icon and all those I’ve harvested. You wish for them to join your three, and eventually the Priestess’s.”

“I would never harm the Priestess; she is my best friend. Fauna was a friend until . . .” She casts me a hurt look. “Why do you think so terribly of me?”

“You killed the Priestess in past games.” I’ve warned the Water Witch, but she swears the Empress is different this time.

“Circe knows this. She has memories from previous games. But I am changed from how I was before.” She assesses my face. “I must have hurt you as well.”

“You betrayed me.”

“How?”

“You tried . . . to kill me on our wedding night.” Reminded, I rise, my spurs clinking as I head toward the door.

She sits up, calling, “Where are you going, Reaper?”

Over my shoulder, I say, “To contemplate my next move.”

_______________

“How long will you be wary of me, my love?” she asks. She is reclining among the pillows on her large bed, sipping wine. Her shift is gauzy, concealing little.

We have been meeting for the last month. She has sent away her disapproving Tarasova, one of many concessions the Empress has made. Slowly this female seduces me to trust her. After my centuries-long solitude, I am helpless not to seek her out. She smiles whenever she first sees me, and excitement lights her glyphs.

Unless it is all a ruse.

She pats the bed beside her. “Will you not sit? Remove your armor, and be comfortable. Have a goblet of wine with me.”

I do go to her bed, but I keep my armor on and my sword nearby. Though she is beguiling, I have learned a harsh lesson.

She sits up and reaches for me. Her delicate fingers caress my face. I steel myself, remembering our wedding night, how she sank her claws into my back to inject her poison.

“It is time, Death.”

Something in her tone makes my body stir. “Time for what?” She couldn’t be speaking of . . .

“For you to claim your wife in truth. I want to be yours. Fully. You’ve waited centuries; wait no longer.”

I know better than to hope, but gods, maybe I could finally know contentment—the kind other men take for granted. I have with me an heirloom wedding ring, have considered giving it to her this night, but I hesitate. “Perhaps I don’t yet trust you.”

“You know how horrified I am that I hurt you.” Her eyes glint. “I