“King Kane,” I murmur, trying to hold my voice even. “I do apologize.”
"Don't bother," he says, pulling out the chair at the head of the table. He eyes Willem, black gaze flashing. "I'm quite sure it had nothing to do with you."
“Well I –” I stutter. My fingers dig into the velvet of the chair as Kane slips into his seat. He isn’t even going to bother pulling out my chair? I feel a flash of something like anger, mingled with confusion, as he waves a lazy hand and servants pour into the room with trays of food balanced expertly.
“Enjoy your meal, Little Pet,” Willem purrs as he slinks past. He disappears through the door, moving like a shadow.
I gape after him and then stare dumbly at Kane. The servants pour him a glass of deep red wine and he takes a long drink. Suddenly, he lifts a hand and flicks it in my direction. The chair to his right jolts backward, angled invitingly towards me. I inhale sharply, surprise pulling my brows upwards. I knew the Dark King had magic, but beyond his magical travel, this is the first I’m witnessing it. I sit hesitantly, half expecting the chair to disintegrate once I touch it. But it stays solid, and with another flick of his wrist, smoothly pushes into the table.
A servant appears beside me and places a platter in front of me. He lifts the silver lid to reveal blue cheese and pear tartlets. They smell delectable and I inhale deeply. The first course looks finer than anything our chefs ever prepared at home. I lift my fork and knife to cut into one, revealing the creamy interior. Before I take a bite, I hesitate, thinking of the old rumors that eating in the Underworld traps you there forever. I push the tartlet into my mouth. It doesn’t matter anyway, I’m already here.
I feel Kane’s eyes on me, appraising me. They drift over my gown, down my neckline, and then back over my sharp collarbone. It feels predatory, this gaze, and dangerously wicked. I feel goosebumps pocking over my skin, every inch of me alive. When I work up the courage to meet his gaze my throat constricts tightly.
Kane is handsome in the same way Willem was handsome, but Willem was more savage in his beauty. Kane is all fine lines and elegance. His jaw is sharp and lean, his nose straight, and his lips are full and tempting. I see his Adam’s apple bob with each swallow and it makes my core thrum pleasantly. His eyes are dark and endless, like a void of shadows. They pull me in like they have a gravity of their own. His black hair is swept away from his forehead, cut precisely and trimmed short except for the flair on top. He smirks while I gawk at him and my heart skips out of rhythm.
“Do you find everything to your satisfaction?” He asks, cocking a brow.
I blush. “It’s delicious.”
He leans forward, propping his chin in his hand, still smiling at me as if he knows something I don’t. “Tell me, what did you think of Willem?”
“I have never met a Reaper before, it was interesting,” I say, keeping my answer vague. I can feel his feline curiosity and I know he wants more from me.
“What was more interesting; your attraction to him, or his lips on yours?” Kane speaks casually, but I can see his eyes glinting with fire and I know this isn’t a game.
I swallow hard, breathing shallowly as fear slips over me like a sudden downpour of rain. “I don’t know what you mean, I didn’t consider such things. And he never touched me,” I finally say, voice lilting with anxiety.
Kane rises smoothly, gracefully, and slips around the table towards me. My chest tightens until I can hardly breathe, and I shrink back against my chair instinctively. He pauses beside me, bending low so he looms over me. “I can smell the lies on your breath,” he growls.
“Kane,” I whimper, chest heaving.
His eyes drop to my cleavage and another snarl rips from his throat. “Beg,” he says, his voice deep, like a rumble in his chest. “Beg for my forgiveness—for another chance.”
“Please,” I say softly, disgust and excitement rushing through me as his fierce eyes drink me in. His lips curl into a cruel, intoxicating smile at the simple word and I feel my core throb. I bite my lip against it, almost drawing blood. His smile broadens, as if he can sense my arousal. I look up at him through my thick lashes, lips pinched with fear. “Please, it won’t happen again.”
Kane lowers his head and I stiffen. He drops his lips beside my ear, so close I can feel them brush against the ridge of my ear. I shiver as his breath whispers over me like a lover’s kiss. “You’re right,” he purrs. “It won’t.”
When he pulls away and slips back to his seat, I release a long breath I didn’t know I had been holding. My knuckles are white as I grip the armrests of my chair, trying to wrestle back control of myself. His glittering black eyes flick towards me, filled with amusement. My hand trembles as I reach for my wine and take a long drag, emptying the glass. Smoothly, Kane pours me another before drinking directly from the bottle. His throat bobs and I feel a flash of desire to trail my fingers over his corded neck.
The main course arrives, shattering the tension between us. I pick at the braised pork, so well-cooked it melts in my mouth. But even the taste of it can’t drive away the fear and anticipation I feel crackling between us. Kane lounges back in his chair, popping a piece of pork in his mouth.
“So,” he drawls. “Are you satisfied with your new home? Or are you perhaps in need of anything I can provide?” He asks,
