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Everywhere.
The words rattled through my subconscious. He went back to that damned island looking for me. “You have to be kidding me. Is this supposed to make me feel something? Because it doesn’t,” I snapped.
“I merely wished for you to be comfortable and a picture—”
“A picture of my dead sister will not bring me comfort.”
He turned toward Imogen, who resembled more of a scared fawn in headlights than the warrior celestial I knew she was.
“Imogen, thank you for the food. I will be at the hall shortly. Please inform the others to be ready.”
She nodded and bowed, a smile making her beautiful face radiant. My lip curled. She was gone in a flash of blue light, leaving me alone again with Samkiel.
“Sorry to interrupt you and your girlfriend. Or should I say your wife? Betrothed? I can’t keep up with all the lies.”
A line in Samkiel’s jaw ticked. “She is my advisor because you killed my last one.”
“Sure, is that what they call it on Rashearim?”
Samkiel lifted his cup to hide his smile, but I saw it. “As I have said, Imogen is not my girlfriend, betrothed, or wife. You would know more about the failed betrothal if you spoke to me instead of my enemies.”
“I don’t care.” I slammed the picture on the countertop.
“You’re in a ripe mood. You must be feeling better,” Samkiel said. He placed his cup down and leaned forward, placing the remaining fruit in a basket.
“You know what I’m feeling?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.
“Enlighten me,” he said, seemingly unconcerned with my ire, which just annoyed me more.
“Like I want to leave. Take me back,” I demanded.
“No.”
I sighed, throwing my hands up. “Gods, that’s still your favorite word!”
I stormed out of the kitchen and down a hall, thinking I’d find an exit, but I ended up in another large room. This one contained a large desk piled with scrolls. Paintings decorated the walls, and books neatly lined the shelves. I slammed the door and turned back, stomping through this cursed palace, determined to find a way out. I opened door after door, finding nothing but storage closets and spare rooms. One door opened onto an outside patio, but a high wall contained it.
A growl of frustration echoed from my throat, and I strode back toward the kitchen. Impatiently, I pushed a loose curl off my cheek and glared at Samkiel. He leaned against the long island, biting into a fruit with a stark green interior.
“Are you done?” he asked.
“Let me out of this godsdamned place,” I snapped, lunging forward and slamming my hands down on the counter.
“No.” He watched me and took another bite, his posture relaxed.
My eyes flicked to the doorway near the large fridge. A shadowed hall lay beyond. That was why I couldn’t find an exit. It was behind him. My gaze met his as he stopped mid-chew.
“Don’t.”
I ran.
I heard the fruit hit the counter and his heavy steps behind me a second after I raced out of the kitchen. A flash of light lit up the dark hallway, and he was in front of me. His arm shot out, trying to stop my escape. I ducked under it and made it another inch before powerful arms grabbed me from behind and swung me around. He pressed me against the wall and leaned his body in close, his large hands gripping my wrists and pinning them on either side of my head. His breath washed over my cheek, his scent surrounding me.
I blew a strand of hair from my face and snarled up at him. “I will rip your throat out with my teeth if you don’t let me go.”
“I was right the first time I saw you. All teeth, claws, and fury. Definitely a riztoure beast.” He leaned closer. “Pure hellcat.”
I cursed him in Eorian.
