Page 28 of A Betrothal So Bloody

“You were a lord’s son? Well, that explains a lot,” I say. “Your air of entitlement for one thing.”

His expression sours. “See, this is why no one likes you slayers. A bunch of uptight, judgmental witches. And to think I was beginning to warm to you.”

“Well, thank God you’re coming to your senses.” I glare at the flames, then at him. “Anyway, I thought we were past pretense and flattery. You needn’t waste your charms.”

“Unfortunately, my charms don’t come with a valve.” His critical gaze travels me up and down, and I cannot deny the coldness of his scrutiny has shifted. “I must admit, I didn’t think you had it in you back there. Imagine my surprise when you pounced from that branch like a wildcat—a small one, mind you, but with sharp claws all the same.”

“I did what I had to in order to save both of our skins.”

Dante’s crooked grin sharpens. “There’s survival, then there’s…that. I dare say you enjoyed the killing blow, you freak.”

My face flushes. “I took no joy in any of it.”

“Oh, come on. I’m jealous, actually. It’s been far too long since I’ve killed something worthwhile.”

“You killed D’Agonisto,” I deadpan.

“But that was months ago! Since then, it’s been nothing but sickly wolves and stray cats.”

Sighing heavily, he stretches out and looks up at the thick branches overhead. Although he appears absurdly comfortable, his expression holds boredom, of all things.

“We’ll give the beasts another hour to recover before we resume,” he says, jutting his chin at the horses. His gaze slowly moves to me, intensifying. “I don’t suppose you want to pass the time… together?”

I blink at him. “How?”

He laughs as though we’re sharing a joke, but his smile wavers when he eyes my confused frown.

“I’m talking about sex,” he says as though he’s genuinely concerned about my intelligence. He slowly gestures his hands between us as though to walk me through the concept. “We should fuck. Oh, what’s that look for? There’s an animal connection here. Can’t you feel it?”

“You’re running for your life, and that’s on your mind?”

“When you get to be my age, you learn not to deny yourself pleasure where you can find it.” He smirks, unbothered and utterly certain that he’s right. He leans in, pointing an admonishing finger in my direction. “I see it in your eyes. You’re imagining it now.”

My heart kicks up into a flutter—though, surely, he’s just trying to make me squirm. I lean away from him, wrinkling my nose. “I think you may be confusing lust for…I don’t know, my abject disgust?”

“See, who needs affection when I have a barrage of insults hurled at me like little knives?” Dante waves a hand at me up and down. “Don’t pretend you haven’t been undressing me with your eyes a dozen times tonight alone. You’re not as subtle as you think you are.”

I gape, my face flooding with color at the very insinuation. “More like imagining what your head will look like mounted as a trophy, you conceited fuck.”

His crooked grin widens. “Well, the two aren’t mutually exclusive.”

His proposition is seeming less like a joke, and I hate how my breath catches under his unfaltering attention. I won’t deny he’s utterly nailed the art of using eye contact like it’s some kind of weapon. His gaze trails over me, lingering longer than necessary on my waist before returning to my face.

“You know, I found you insufferably annoying at first, but now… Well, that part hasn’t really changed,” Dante continues breezily. “But I’ve uncovered your more attractive qualities to make up for it. Your unhinged violence in the heat of a fight, for one thing. Extraordinary.”

I almost choke on my laugh. “Extraordinary? Most people find a slayer’s life demented.”

A little bitterness seeps into my voice. Being misjudged by the very people we are sworn to protect is simply a cross to bear. Inevitable, but stinging nonetheless.

He cocks his head at me, shooting me a look like I ought to know better. “Most people are idiots.”

I glance away, scoffing softly even as a strange wave of warmth comes over me. There are so few outside the order who know the lengths we take to confront the darkness and don’t shy away. Protecting the innocent is not pretty work.

Wonderful, I have such vital things in common with a mass murderer.

Dante stretches his leg to nudge my boot with his. Reluctantly, I look up to find that his smile has turned conspiratorial. “No one else has to know,” he all but whispers. “Your slayer girls will be none the wiser. A harmless, indulgent secret between us, stellina.”

My throat tightens. I should threaten to gut him for teasing me so coarsely, but I’m forced to accept the even more horrifying reality that he’s being serious.