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Chapter 7: Bargaining for Blood
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Chapter 9: Wine Stains and War Crimes
PREVIEW
... d been born to perform and tonight was my final act. I moved like smoke—graceful, deliberate, and unhurried. The tunic slipped from my shoulders as if it had grown tired of clinging to me, baring my collarbone, my chest, the pale hunger of my hips inch by inch. I turned, arched, bent—offering hints, silhouettes, and shadows. Never the whole. Never for free.
Verrin groaned—a low, croaking sound that seemed to rattle the very air between us—before shoving aside the heavy folds of his robe ...
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