Page 166 of Bedeviled

Eislyn’s eyes stay pinned to mine, a sick fascination in them. “Your power won’t work here.” Her eyes flick to my bindings. “Those handcuffs neutralize magic.”

I grimace at her.

She smooths my hair away from my face, and the touch is an offense.

“I’m afraid that you, my king, are truly at my mercy.”

I narrow my gaze at her, well aware of my own disadvantages at the moment.

“Is this your grand plan, then?” I ask. “Chain me up and gloat?”

She smirks a little. “Do you really think so little of my ambitions?”

My mind flashes to Selene’s final memories as Roxilana—the ransacked palace, my best friend’s betrayal, the invading Roman soldiers, the slain bodies of my mother and sister, and my pregnant, hunted wife.

It’s hard to breathe around my deep, abiding hate for this abomination. In my veins, my power stirs restlessly. I can feel it rise and burn out, rise and burn out.

“If your ambitions remain as they did in Sarmatia,” I say, “then yes, I think very little of them.”

If Eislyn is offended, she doesn’t show it.

She backs up from me. “Do you know what I intend?” The fairy looks placid enough, but she seems to be almost buzzing with excitement.

“I have a basic fucking idea.”

She raises her eyebrows and folds her arms, perching her chin on her knuckles. “Enlighten me.”

“Get me down, and I’ll sing like a bird,” I counter.

She studies me for a moment longer, like she’s considering it. Finally, she nods. “I will get you down, Memnon, and we will have a nice, long reunion.”

My gaze tracks her as she steps away to grab a dark amber vial resting on a side table. She uncorks it and crosses back over to me.

“All you need to do,” she says, lifting the vial, “is drink this.”

The liquid inside it is undoubtedly either a potion or a poison.

I give her a scathing look. “I don’t think so.”

“This part wasn’t actually up for negotiation, Memnon.” Eislyn reaches up and grips my jaw.

I recoil in an attempt to dislodge her hand.

Eislyn huffs out an annoyed noise. “I don’t want to hurt you—I’ve never wanted to hurt you.”

My protest is a roar in my veins. She has feasted on my suffering.

Her hand returns to my jaw, and she digs her fingers into the muscles of my cheeks there until she’s wedged my mouth open.

“Don’t act so sullen,” she admonishes. “Kings have killed for this elixir.”

She tips the liquid onto my tongue, and I watch her as the thick, floral flavor fills my mouth. If this is a poison, then it’s a disarmingly sweet one.

Eislyn has only just pulled away, and she must feel so very proud of herself, feeding her shit to her captive, when I spit it out, the liquid spraying all over her.

“I don’t want your cursed libations, fairy,” I say.

For an instant, I seem to take her by surprise. Her expression twitches and briefly shifts into something like shock. Then, it’s gone, and her mask is smoothly in place once more.