Page 187 of A Kingdom of Wild and Power
‘Am I interrupting?’ Mal asked.
‘Do ya want to play?’ Wren replied with a grin.
‘Stay there.’ Mal pointed firmly at the table. ‘Until I’ve finished.’
Wren merely waved her away, already far too absorbed in the game to care. Mal gave her friend one last lingering glance before turning and striding towards the far end of the room.
As she walked, several souls drifted into her path, their movements languid and enticing. They tried to draw her in with whispered promises and wandering hands, hoping to pull her into the endless temptations of this ring. But Mal brushed them aside without hesitation, pushing past them as though they were nothing more than smoke.
She was no longer prey to these circles.
She was the God-Killer.
And she would not be lured so easily again.
‘I see you’ve changed your face,’ Mal said when she reached the long crimson sofa.
At least a dozen bodies were sprawled across it in a tangle of limbs, touching and kissing, their hands roaming freely over one another as laughter and soft murmurs filled the air.
At the centre of the decadent chaos sat a man.
He wore nothing but a thin red robe that hung open across his chest. His black hair was cropped short, and when his red eyes lifted to meet Mal’s, they held a deliberate, measuring interest.
Mal arched a brow.
The last time she had encountered the king of this ring, he had worn a very different face.
‘You again,’ Asmodeus said, his smile spreading wide.
Mal caught the faint glint of a fang and felt an instinctive urge to bare her own in return. She ignored the woman kneeling before him, whose mouth was busily occupied while Asmodeus’ large hand rested firmly on the back of her head, keeping her exactly where he wanted her.
‘So you do recognise me,’ Mal said.
‘I warned you not to return.’
‘And yet here I am.’
Her fingers tightened around the hilt of her sword, the leather creaking softly beneath her grip as she prepared herself for the possibility of separating Asmodeus’ head from his shoulders if necessary.
‘Strange,’ she added, her voice edged with quiet mockery. ‘Considering you didn’t recognise me the last time.’
‘And why might that be?’
‘I am Melinoe,’ she said, her voice steady and clear. ‘Daughter of Hades and Hecate.’
Something flashed across Asmodeus’ face. Mal could not quite tell whether the change came from the weight of her revelation or from the woman still working eagerly on his cock.
‘You do not wear the same face you did then,’ he said at last, his lips curling with amusement. ‘Though, perhaps, your temper should have been enough of a clue.’ He chuckled softly. ‘Did you truly believe you had always worn this mortal body, even back then?’
Mal tried not to let her embarrassment show. She had never known any other body, so yes, some foolish part of her had always assumed she had looked exactly as she did now. But of course that could not have been true. She would have worn another form back then, another face entirely. The thought stirred a strange curiosity within her, and she found herself wondering what she might once have looked like, what her trueform had been before this one.
‘Why are you here?’ Asmodeus asked.
‘For personal reasons.’
Mal glanced down at her nails with feigned boredom. But the moment Asmodeus leaned forward, tugging the girl’s head away from him, Mal raised her arm and pointed the tip of her sword directly at his chest.
The girl who had been kneeling between his legs wiped her mouth quickly and scrambled away, vanishing into the shadows with obvious relief. Mal watched her retreat before turning her attention back to the sofa. Two other souls immediately slid closer, their eager hands reaching towards the king of Hell.
