“There is no try, only do,” I say.

  His eyes narrow. “I am capable of destroying you with one breath, little fae. You are no match for me.”

  I know I’m supposed to be terrified at his threat, especially when he’s obviously capable of backing it up. But I can’t help the anger that surges upon hearing him confirm Uziah’s claims. So, instead of cowering like I’m sure he expects me to do, I ask the only question that matters, especially if I’m about to become kindling.

  “Why did you curse me?”

  He blinks. “What?”

  “You cursed me,” I say, adding emphasis to each word. “Why? I did nothing to you.”

  He takes a step back, frowning. “What are you talking about?”

  “That night at the bar,” I say impatiently. “You touched me.”

  “I…yes.” His expression shifts, and I know he’s remembering the way he pressed his palm to my cheek. Just like I know we’re both distracted by the idea of touching one another again. Ugh.

  “Ever since that night, my skin is poison,” I tell him.

  “The portal’s magic is unpredictable but it’s not my fault⁠—”

  “I haven’t gone anywhere near that damned portal. Only you.”

  “I am not responsible for whatever strange affliction⁠—”

  “I killed a woman,” I snap, temper flaring as I reach my breaking point.

  “Yes, I’ve heard that’s your profession.” He practically spits the last word at me, and I don’t miss the judgment in his sharp gaze.

  “How do you know what my profession is?”

  “Maybe you’re not as good as you think you are.”

  I bite back another argument, refusing to let him distract me from what he’s done. “I killed a bystander that night. A woman who had nothing to do with…my job. I killed her by accidentally touching her. And now her people want to kill me in return.”

  “What people?” he demands, eyes flashing with renewed determination. “Tell me where to find them.”

  “Are you even listening? My touch kills people,” I say, voice rising. “Don’t you understand? I have a sister, and thanks to you, I can never hug her again. In fact, if I accidentally brush her cheek, she’ll die. Not to mention the fact that I’ll never get laid again. Or hold someone’s hand or feel someone’s arm around me. I’m so fucked. And it’s all your fault.”

  I watch as he takes in my words. His eyes dart to my hands, which are bared and hanging at my sides. I consider attempting to touch him now and ending this once and for all, but I stop myself. Maybe it’s the defeat I’m feeling, but I can’t bring myself to attack him again. Or maybe it’s the fact that what I really want is to press myself against him for entirely different reasons. To strip out of my clothes and hand over my body for whatever he’d like to use it for.

  He shakes his head. “I am not capable of what you’re accusing me of.”

  Fury rises at his denial. It’s enough to snap me out of my lust. I lift my hand, reaching for his throat.

  He steps back, but I leap forward.

  We do this deadly dance for several more moments, and by the time I’m finished, I’m forced to admit he’s faster than me. It stabs my pride and fuels my resolve to kick his ass.

  Kill him, Tor.

  Call it what it is.

  Ugh.

  “You are beautiful and deadly, little fae.”

  I scowl at the way his compliment warms me.

  “Deadly is not a thing of beauty,” I tell him.

  “It is to me.”

  I huff because, if I’m being honest, he’s beautiful and deadly too.

  “You will not be able to kill me,” he adds, and I glare back at him.

  “I’ve never failed at it before, and I don’t plan to start now.”

  His expression tightens. “Ah, yes, you’ve killed before.”

  “Many times.”

  Something unsettled flashes in his gaze. He looks almost disappointed.

  “What? Did you think you were the only one capable of it?” I snap.

  He looks resolute. “I have to go.”

  “Aww. Have I killed the mood?” I ask sweetly.

  His hesitation is genuine, though, and I try to figure out how I’ve gotten to him. “You’re not what I expected.”

  “I’m sorry. Did you want a mate who would fall at your feet and worship you?”

  “I don’t want a mate at all.”

  His words sting far more than they should, considering what a monster he is, but I shove that aside and snap, “That makes two of us.”

  He takes a step toward me, and I throw up my hands. “If you come near me, I’ll touch you. And that will be that.”

  His eyes glitter as he says, “I would destroy you long before you got close enough to harm me.”

  “I’m not afraid of you.”

  “You should be.”

  Before I can answer, he leaps into the air, his dragon form exploding from his flesh and his wings carrying him off into the night.

  Chapter 8

  Legion

  Ifly south for an hour before touching down again. After five millennia in eternal darkness, having the open expanse of endless sunlit skies is a newfound freedom for my dark dragon. That freedom becomes more and more like a prison the farther I get from her.

  My beast craves her. It’s more than her beauty though she is the most alluring creature I’ve ever seen. She is strong. A fighter. A killer.

  I will not tie myself to another monster.

  I refuse to be controlled.

  There’s still the matter of her thinking I cursed her. It’s a baseless claim though it has me wondering: If not me, then who or what did? Tartarus’ dark magic has infected more than one citizen of the Crossroads already, but so far, that magic has been contained to the portal itself. And it hasn’t involved curses. Either way, it wasn’t my magic that did this.

  Still, I can’t help but admire her bravery for facing me so fearlessly with her accusations. Then again, maybe it’s stupidity. Either way, beneath my obsession for her, and my determination to resist her, I worry.

  The very idea of someone intentionally hurting her has a fire curling inside my beast. Before I know what’s happening, hellfire unleashes from my throat, raining out over the moonlit sky and falling to the Earth below.

  Shocked at the way I just lost control, I stare out at the landscape beneath me, watching as the fire makes landfall. It scorches everything it touches. Farmland, mountains—thankfully, no homes that I can see.

  Unfortunately, the fire I unleashed barely scratches the surface of the rage my beast feels, and I feel another burst forming. Half-mad from resisting the fury, I angle higher, determined to keep from razing the town below me.

  The madness at not accepting the mate bond is a darkness driving me wild. Even if I wanted to give in, I couldn’t, not if she’s unable to touch another without killing them. The idea of another creature touching her in the way I want to blinds me with rage. I find myself relieved she cannot. But that also means I can’t touch her either.

  With a snarl, I turn back and head for the portal back to Tartarus. Someone hurt her. I intend to find out who if only to soothe the beast inside me—to maintain control. But to do that, I need to be free of my restraints.

  An hour later, my legs are heavy as I climb the steps to the palace. Pol, Caius’ closest advisor, stops me before I’ve made it to the door. I brace myself for a round of shit.

  “Well, look at what the werecat dragged in,” Pol says.

  I don’t give him the satisfaction of a response. Pol likes to push buttons.

  “You look like hell,” he adds when I don’t respond.

  “You should see the other guy,” I tell him.

  “Oh, I heard.” Pol chuckles. “Five thousand years of imprisonment, and at the first taste of freedom, you get drunk and lose your shit on one of our own.”

  I scowl. “That’s not how it is.”

  “Then how is it?”

  “That asshole had it coming,” I tell him.

  “Oh, I don’t doubt that. But you must have needed to blow off steam pretty badly if Styx let you have all the fun.”

  I shake my head, in no mood to rehash it. “Is he in?” I ask, angling my head toward the castle’s private living quarters.

  Pol waves me onward. “He’s expecting you. Hey, next time you want to brawl, call me. We’ll make it a fair fight.”

  I ignore his shit-talking and continue making my way toward the residence.

  Pol’s wrong. Freedom has nothing to do with it, and I have to believe Caius will let this go. The ruler of Tartarus might have begun as nothing more than my prison warden and bonded master, but somewhere along the way, he became a friend. He’ll understand what I did and why.

  What he won’t like is the favor I’m going to ask.

  But I must deal with my mate before I go completely mad from resisting her. And I can’t do that if I’m serving another master.

  Even now, I can feel my beast stirring for her. To see her, speak with her, touch her—again. It doesn’t seem to mind the idea that her touch could kill me. Although, that’s a fact yet to be determined.

  At the top of the stairs, a young guard perks up at the sight of me. “General,” he greets, straightening his shoulders and standing taller.

  “Riggs. At ease.”

  He relaxes but barely. “Heard you went a few rounds at Osiris the other night.” He grins.

  I stop and stare at him until his grin fades.

  “Sorry, sir,” he mumbles. “None of my business.”

  “Damn right it isn’t,” I tell him before letting myself through the door at his back.

  Caius is seated at the end of a long table when I enter. The impressive spread of food is untouched and ignored in favor of the female currently draped over his lap.

  “Ahem.” I clear my throat, and they reluctantly break apart.

  “Legion.” Caius eyes me around the curve of his mate’s throat which he’d just been licking.

  “Your timing is impeccable as usual,” Reagan says.

  She turns and shoots me a scowl, but the smile that follows is friendly. Since she took her place at Caius’ side a few months ago, I’ve come to know her as warm and open.

  She’s a welcome addition to Caius’ court, though I don’t understand the draw to the male before me. He’s decent as gods go, but he’s still a grump and an asshole. Apparently, there’s someone for everyone.

  Except for me.

  “I can come back,” I say, “If this is a bad time.”

  “No, no, it’s fine,” Reagan says. “I have a painting to finish.”

  Caius whispers something to her, and she plants another quick kiss on his mouth before climbing to her feet and leaving us.

  When we’re alone, he says, “What’s on your mind?”

  “I would like to speak with you about my service here.”

  “Your service,” he repeats with something like suspicion.

  “As you know, I have loyally served under your leadership since I came to Tartarus.”

  At that, he chuckles. “As I recall, you didn’t have a choice since your heritage requires you to be bonded to another being as a matter of survival. I also recall that you made my life hell for it at first.”

  “How about we focus on the last four thousand years,” I shoot back wryly.

  He grins. “Took you a while to come around, General.”

  The joke is short-lived as I focus on what I came to say. “During that time, I’ve never once asked you for anything.”

  His grin disappears, and he studies me. “No,” he agrees. “You haven’t. But something tells me you’ll do so now. Is this about the bar fight?”

  “The offender was inappropriate with one of your advisors. I was well within my right as your general⁠—”

  “Relax, Styx told me everything. It’s fine. Though I wondered what caused you to react so strongly.”

  I tense. “As I said, he was inappropriate.”

  “It’s not the first time you’ve dealt with a drunken dumbass,” he points out. “Your self-control is usually on a tighter leash.”

  “You’re not wrong.” I clear my throat. “That is why I request that you release me from our blood bond.”

  He nods slowly without an ounce of surprise in his expression. It makes me wonder what he thinks he knows, but I don’t ask.

  “Releasing you will leave you vulnerable,” he says. “Someone else could attempt to bond you to them⁠—”

  “They would not live long enough to succeed,” I snarl, my temper sending smoke through my nostrils.

  Caius holds up a hand, and I check myself, forcing even breaths until my heart rate calms and my beast recedes. “You’ve served Tartarus dutifully. I hate to lose you, but I understand. Though, I must say your timing for retirement is⁠—”

  “Not retirement,” I assure him. “I ask only for the blood oath between us to be released. I still intend to do my job.”

  “In that case, I’m curious as to the reason for your request,” he says. “Is there another bond you want to forge?”

  My eyes narrow.

  He knows. That gleam in his eye is too certain. I have no idea how he knows already, but then, he is a primordial god.

  “I have found my mate,” I admit.

  He smirks. “I know. Styx told me.”

  My eyes narrow. “She and I are going to have words.”

  “That might prove difficult. She’s gone to hunt for her own mate. Like Oberon should be. Now with you, I’m starting to think there’s something in the water here.”

  I frown. “That’s not what I’m doing. And Oberon’s hunting his throne.”

  He smiles smugly. “That’s what they all say.”

  I resist the urge to defend myself and simply say, “I have found her, but I have no intention of claiming her.”

  His smirk fades into concern, which is almost worse. “I see. Can I ask why not?”

  “I will not be bonded to another again.”

  “What will you do once you’ve protected her? Will you return to retake the oath with me?”

  I hesitate, unused to admitting these words aloud. “I hope to find a way to end the need for it altogether.”

  “Of course.” There is understanding in his expression, as I knew there would be, but there is also pity.

  Uncomfortable, I change the subject.

  “Does the magic we carry from Tartarus… can it infect another through touch?”

  “The portal itself leaked magic when it first happened. But I’m not aware any of our kind has done what you’re suggesting. Why do you ask?”

  “My—the female is a dark fae with a talent for poisons. After meeting me, her magic has changed, and now her touch alone is lethal.”

  “And you think you’re responsible?”

  “She does,” I admit. “I wondered if the magic of Tartarus could affect a curse of that magnitude.”

  “It’s possible,” he says, brows furrowing in thought. “I thought I stopped the magic from leaking when I returned here through the portal. But it’s possible you carry some of that magic on you. Is she at risk then?”

  “I don’t know. Not from the poison, I don’t think. But there are others who are offended by what she’s done with it. She needs protection,” I add. “I can do that much.”

  He nods in understanding. “But you can’t take a life I haven’t sanctioned.”

  “Yes.”

  “What if I sanction it?”

  I frown. “Would you?”

  He shrugs. “If it keeps you safe from another bond, if you wish it, then yes.”

  I hesitate. It’s tempting. Not because I don’t think I can take care of myself but because maintaining the blood oath with Caius means I can’t be tempted to mate with her. Then I remember the hellfire I rained down over the Earth realm earlier. The madness that only grows stronger as the two bonds fight for dominance.

  In the end, I shake my head. “I think it’s best if we end our connection. The mate bond … it is dangerous feeling both at once.”

  He nods. “You’ve been loyal to me, Legion, and in return, I will show you the same respect.”

  He reaches over and picks up a knife from the table setting then slices his palm open until blood pools in his hand. He walks over and holds the knife out to me.

  I take it and make a similar incision in my own palm.

  When my own blood has pooled, I take his hand in a firm shake, sealing our blood as one just like we did five millennia ago. The air fills with the scent of brimstone and smoke.

  “I hereby release you, Legion Razginath, from the blood oath between us. Your will is now your own.”

  He releases me, and I watch as the blood coating our hands evaporates, becoming thick, black hellsmoke. I exhale, knowing the demon bloodline that created me acknowledges his decree. My thoughts drift to my mother, but I shove her away. She is no longer a threat to me. And I have finally earned my freedom at last.

  My muscles tense then relax as I feel the tether between Caius and me finally snap free.

  In the absence of a blood bond with another, a new sense of power courses through my veins. In this moment, Caius is not the only god here. A demon might have birthed me, but a god sired me, and for the first time in five thousand years, I feel the essence of both legacies in my blood.

  Inside, my dragon stirs, straining for the freedom of the skies, but I hold it fast in my grip, reveling in the feel of the only will inside me being my own—at last.

  “It is done,” I say.

  “It is done,” Caius agrees, still studying me. “Where will you go?”

  “Wherever it takes,” I say.

  “Take as long as you need. I’ll speak to Klyn about covering your duties. Your job will be waiting for you when you’re ready. You always have a place here, Legion. Bond or no.”

  I dip my head in acknowledgment and respect. “I am grateful.”

  I turn to leave. Behind me, Caius calls out, “Be careful, old friend. The heart is a dangerous thing to ignore, and your enemies would exploit any vulnerability.”