Page 29 of A Betrothal So Bloody

“I-I— No.” I pull my boot away and avoid eye contact, but I feel his gaze linger and pierce me. “I can’t. Not with…with you. Nor with anyone.”

Dante breathes in sharply. His stare burns into me. “Hold on—are you saying the blushing virgin image wasn’t simply an act?”

“We are not discussing this.”

His laugh is disbelieving. “I always assumed you slayers got up to all sorts of freaky shit in that castle. Or did you simply choose not to partake?”

“It’s an abbey, not a castle,” I spit. “And I’ve done…some things. Just not others. Not that it’s any of your damn business.”

Don’t say another word to him, Ariya. Shut up, shut up—

“The Order sees such acts as beneath us. Petty, self-indulgent distractions.” I add this in a hush as though Mother Superior might hear me confessing this out here, in the middle of the Tuscan woods. Lord, I can only imagine the blotches of red across my face.

“Answer me this,” Dante says, ducking closer. He lets the silence stretch—trapping me in anticipation—before a wicked gleam enters his eyes. His voice lowers to a half-reverent whisper. “Did I steal your first kiss?”

With a man? Yes. But I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of admitting that even if he put a blade to my throat.

“Fuck off. Keep laughing at me, and I’ll hack out your tongue,” I snap.

Dante holds up his hands as though to signal a truce as he reclines again. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of, darling. Everyone starts somewhere. Learning the rules is half the fun, if you ask me.” That gleam in his eyes is undaunted. If anything, his curiosity seems to be fanned into a blaze. “And if you change your mind, you’d be in very capable hands with me. The countless things I could do to make you scream and squirm… I’ll have you begging for me to unravel you. Bit. By. Bit.”

He punctuates these last words with a vague, elegant gesture of his hand. I find myself hypnotized by the fluidity of his fingers.

“I do not beg,” I growl.

His smile widens. “I’ll change that.”

Against my will, our wedding kiss surges into focus—the only time our lips have locked thus far, yet I recall it with sharp clarity. Brief but sensual, the taste of Dante’s skin startlingly pleasant. If I gave him time, what else could that mouth do?

“Rules aside, I would rather light myself on fire before touching a single inch of you.” I busy myself with stuffing the linen wrappings into my saddlebag—anything but meet his gaze, lest he see right through to my sinful thoughts. “Does this whorish rake act really entice victims? I should worry for the intelligence of Italia’s citizens.”

“You’re awfully ruffled for someone who finds me so repulsive.”

I give him a derisive once-over. “It must be quite jarring for you, for someone to not be immediately worshipping the ground you walk on.”

Dante hums in agreement. “Well, there’s a first time for everything.”

This gets a small snort of laughter out of me. “How do you know you’re that heartbreakingly handsome if you haven’t seen your reflection for nearly one-hundred years? For all you know, you could be ghoulish.”

“I make it a point to befriend as many artists as I can. Honestly, they flock to me most times. Apparently I make a fantastic muse,” Dante says, shrugging. “Occasionally I’ll get them to sketch my face so I—” He stops himself abruptly. His jaw works like he’s muscling back the rest of the words.

So you don’t forget what you look like?

A tragic thought. One I have never truly considered.

Dante pushes the shadows from his expression, eyes glinting at me again. “Besides, there are other ways of knowing. How a room stirs when I walk through the door.” He points at me, letting the pause draw out. His voice dips into something low and sensual. “How you hold your breath when I speak. Even now.”

I hurriedly inhale. The way his voice had lowered… It wasn’t hypnotism, like when he’d crawled into bed with me, but it pulled at me all the same. It was something primal, something raw. Something I wasn’t used to feeling, like there was a storm trapped in my body, begging for release.

Shit—I’d leaned in slightly.

“You’re deluded,” I simper, giving him my best fuck you smile. “Looking at you just makes me want to hurt something.”

“A common impulse for you, I’m sure.”

He reclines again with a sigh, shifting to get comfortable. His body is unapologetically unfurled, like the forest around us is his by claim.

“On second thought, maybe it’s good that we wait,” Dante remarks. “I’d utterly ruin you for every dick that enters you after me, and that wouldn’t be fair to you.”