Lilith Shadowflame's Arc

Chapter 3 of 21

Lilith lay on the wooden table while Damien tightened the last strap at her ankle. His fingers grazed the inside of her wrist on the way back up. Slow. Light. She felt her pulse jump under his thumb and hated that he felt it too. He leaned over her, close enough that his silver cross swung against her collarbone. "Ritual," he said, like the word amused him. He was not going to crown her. He was going to make her ask for something. She turned her head to the doorway. Her shadow dragon lay across the threshold, chin on its paws, purple eyes half open. It had not moved since he tied her down. That was the answer. If it thought he was a threat, it would already have his throat. It was letting her handle him because he was hers to handle. "Untie me," she said. "Say please." "Untie me, or she eats you." The dragon lifted its head. Damien looked at it, then at her bare stomach, then at the straps. He undid them one by one. He took his time on the wrists. When she sat up, he did not step back. She walked past him to the back chamber where the pool used to be. It was a basin now, ringed with black stone, purple light rising off the water. She looked down at herself and saw what he saw. Bare thighs. Bare arms. A scrap of black across her hips. A woman on a table, not a goddess on a throne. That was the problem. He kept touching her like an equal because she was dressed like one. She knelt at the basin and pressed both palms to the stone. "Obsidian," she said. "Lace. A collar. A crown." The water climbed her arms. It hardened cold against her skin. Black plates locked over her ribs and hips, cut low, cut sharp. Purple crystal ran down her thighs in thin veins. A high collar closed at her throat, points rising past her jaw. Last, a circle of black spikes settled on her hair. She stood. The regalia weighed nothing and everything. She turned. Damien was still by the table. His hand was halfway raised, ready to touch her wrist again. It stopped in the air. "Kneel," she said. He looked at her mouth. He looked at the dragon. He lowered his hand. He did not kneel. But he did not step closer either. He dropped his eyes first, and held them down. "Better," she said. It was not the crown she wanted. He had not given her that. He had given her the space between his old smile and his lowered eyes, and now she had to fill it before he took it back.