Adonis sat shirtless on the edge of his bed, his wings not in view tonight. A small relief—he wasn’t in slaughter mode. Still, his icy gray eyes pierced me to my very core. “I hadn’t realized you enjoyed our dinner so much.”

His voice wrapped around me like silk, so seductive that I nearly forgot I found myself in a completely horrific situation.

In the hallway behind me, I heard Johnny’s footsteps echo off the stones as he walked past. At least I’d avoided his notice.

Adonis’s pale gaze swept over my clothing—the nightgown that hung only to my upper thighs. “I must say that I approve of the outfit you chose.”

I looked down at my nightgown, mortified to find that not only were my legs on display, but the cold castle air had fully engaged my headlights. Once again, I felt completely naked before Adonis.

And some insane, perverse part of me liked that thought. Must be part of his angel magic, I guessed. Bastard.

Adonis’s gaze dipped to my chest, and for just a moment, his jaw opened slightly. He clutched tightly to the blankets on his bed, knuckles whitening. Then he composed himself again, his expression clearing. “I’m surprised you’re not terrified to be in my presence.”

“Scared? Me? Don’t be ridiculous,” I said airily. Think of something to say, Ruby. Act casual. “So what’s the deal with your wings? Sometimes you have them, sometimes you don’t. Do they rip through your clothes when they appear?”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “No. They’re formed of magical energy, and they don’t behave like normal matter. I take it you’ve come here, then, to ask about my shirt ripping off my body.” For the first time, I noticed a pendant around his neck, glinting in the candlelight.

“Just making conversation.” I waved a dismissive hand. “So this is a nice place you’ve got here,” I added casually, surveying his bedroom—the bookshelf lining the wall, the painting of red flowers by a riverside. What did Adonis’s books tell me about him? Not much. Apart from the painting and some candles in thorny iron sconces, the only thing of note in his room was the bookshelf—mostly empty. On its oak shelves lay a few poetry books, some ancient tomes in dead languages, and a book with silver lettering called Bringer of Light.

Interesting.

“So glad you approve, succubus.”

“I thought you’d have more skulls or something.”

He let out a low chuckle that rumbled through places I shouldn’t be thinking about right now, and my chest warmed.

“I keep those in my summer cottage,” he said.

Something shifted in the shadows, and I caught a glimpse of Drakon—larger than I’d realized before, nearly the size of a golden retriever. The dragonile was covered in black scales, with thin wings that swooped off his back and a long, spiked tail. He strutted over to Adonis, rubbing against his legs, and the angel stroked his scaly head. Drakon snorted appreciatively, his yellow eyes closing.

How did I explain why I was here, dressed like this? Maybe I could just avoid the whole topic altogether. “Nice pet.”

“He keeps me company and only occasionally lights things on fire. But you still haven’t explained why you’re here.”

I guess not. I swallowed hard, forcing a calm smile onto my face. “Afeka,” I said abruptly. “I was just remembering a visit to Afeka years ago.”

He rose from his bed, shifting past Drakon and prowling closer.

As he moved with predatory grace, my eyes trailed over the thorny, brutal tattoos on his chest, some of them with the spiked, leafy patterns of hemlock. That seemed appropriate. Poison hemlock was a beautiful flowering plant, deceptively lethal, as if it were designed to enchant a person to their death. And that’s what Adonis was—poison hemlock.

Among his tattoos were words written in a language I didn’t understand—an ancient language that a real succubus would understand.

More surprising than the tattoos were the vicious-looking scars around his heart and marring the skin of his wrists. He looked as if he’d been stabbed repeatedly over the years. How many times over would this man be dead if he’d been mortal?

Kratos’s words rang in my mind: he’s a soldier. And he had the body of a powerful warrior, powerfully muscled and scarred.

Now that he’d moved closer to me, I got a better view of the pendant around his neck. It looked like resin encasing something crimson—droplets of blood, perhaps.

He arched an eyebrow. “You came here, half dressed, to talk about Afeka?”

I glanced at his windows, the heavy curtains pulled closed. We were alone in here, hidden from view. A strange, magnetic pulled me toward him, as if some insane part of me wanted his powerful arms around me.

This close to Adonis, the scent of myrrh slipped over my body, and a draft chilled my skin through the silky fabric. I tried to look relaxed as I rested against his door, but I felt aware of every single inch of exposed skin in the frigid castle room. I was completely vulnerable before him, and the thought was disturbingly thrilling.

My pulse was racing. “It’s just, I remembered stopping by Afeka once, and the food was amazing.” Think of something universal, Ruby. What did all cultures have? “The fruit, I remember the fruit being particularly succulent.”

“Mmmm.” His voice was almost a growl, and he took another step closer. “I see. You came here to talk about succulent fruit.”

In the dim candlelight, flecks of silver gleamed in his eyes as he studied me with an intense curiosity.

My heart thundered harder against my ribs. I swallowed hard, acutely aware of the power that pulsed through every inch of his thickly corded muscles. His skin was a perfect bronze color—definitely Middle Eastern, I thought.

“Olive oil,” I said abruptly.

Amusement glinted in his eyes, and I was pretty sure even Drakon was looking at me like I was full of shit. Olive oil? Idiot.

“If you’re so desperate to get your hands on me, Ruby, you can just ask. Are you wondering if I can fall, and if you can tempt me?”

I sighed, trying to bluff again. “You know, in my four thousand years, I’m not sure I’ve ever met a man who loves himself more.”

“Of course you haven’t. You never met a man who deserved it more.”

I flicked a strand of hair out of my eyes. “Look, I couldn’t sleep. That’s all. Succubi are creatures of the night. I saw a light on, and I figured someone was up. I honestly didn’t even know you were going to be in here when I pushed through the door. I was hoping for one of the servants.” And that was the truth. “I mean, one of the ones we didn’t kill tonight. Instead, I find myself face to face with the Archangel of Narcissism. My mistake.”

He shook his head slowly, a dark smile playing about his lips. “No, Ruby. I don’t believe in mistakes like that. Something draws you to me, doesn’t it?”

“Maybe the gravitational pull of your massive ego. I’m not sure anything could withstand its force.”

He stood close to me now, his eyes blazing like moonlight. “I know you’re not exactly who you say you are. I know you didn’t come here to talk to me about Afeka, or fruit, or olive oil. I know you’re hiding things, and loneliness pierces you to the core. I know the dark scares you.” Gently, he pushed a strand of hair out of my eyes, and the brush of his fingertips against my skin sent a shiver racing through my veins. “But I know it draws you in, too. The sweet release of the shadows. You want it.”

His words had my heart practically galloping out of my chest. How much did he suspect about me, this man who could slaughter a city with a flick of his wrist? His powerful magic thrummed over my body, vibrating like an ancient, exotic song.

“And what else do you think I’m hiding?” I asked, keeping my voice low and steady.

His gaze roamed lower over my body. Heat prickled over my skin as I felt him studying me, taking in my curves, my exposed skin.

“I don’t know who you are.” His voice was husky as he lowered his face to mine, leaning in so close that his breath warmed my neck. “I think I might enjoy finding out.”

Gently, as if testing my reaction, he ran a fingertip over my hipbone, tracing the silk. His light touch sent liquid fire swooping through me.

My pulse raced out of control, and I was sure he could heart my heart beating wildly.

Poison hemlock, I reminded myself. Don’t get lured in.

“Like I said…” My breath was coming embarrassingly fast. Surely he could hear the heaving breaths, right? That I sounded like I’d run a marathon? “I came here by accident. I was looking for someone else.”

“Wait.” He pulled his hands away from me. Suddenly, his eyes sharpened, and it took me a moment to realize what he was listening to. With my acute fae hearing, I could make out the sound of a door creaking open down the hall.

When the corner of his lips twitched, I knew he was about to do something really irritating.

As the sound of footsteps moved down the hallway, Adonis pushed even closer against me, his powerful body warming mine.

Then he opened the door.

I nearly fell out of his room.

There—walking down the hallway—was Kratos.

At the sight of me standing next to a shirtless Adonis and wearing a nightgown that barely covered my ass, Kratos’s eyes began to glow a strange and terrifying gold. His copper wings shimmered into view behind him, like he was ready to rip the two of us to pieces.

Tension rippled through his body, a powerful pulse of magic spilled off him. “What is going on here?” An icy chill laced his voice.

“Kratos,” said Adonis with a smile. “I thought I heard you.”

Kratos’s eyes burned into me. “Why is Ruby in your room?”

Adonis leaned against the doorframe, his stance completely at ease. “You know that I had dinner with her tonight. I asked her to pay me a visit after, and she was happy to oblige. She’s just been entertaining me.”

Heat warmed my cheeks. Adonis wasn’t just fucking with me—he was fucking with Kratos, too. And yet I couldn’t exactly argue with his account, given that I had no better explanation. No, no, that’s not what happened. I was actually just spying on you to try to figure out how to kill you, so I’ll just be on my way…

Adonis had seen right through my bullshit excuse about Afeka, and my next excuse about looking for servants, and he knew I had nothing to counter his story.

I shrugged. “I thought it would be rude to turn down one of my hosts, but after literally a minute in the Dark Lord’s room listening to him talk about how much he loves himself, I believe it’s time for me to return to my own.”

I stepped into the cold hallway.

Adonis’s icy eyes glinted with silver. “I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again soon enough, Ruby.”

“Stay away from her.” The threat of violence laced Kratos’s voice, but his eyes were still on me. “I’ll walk Ruby back to her room.”

Adonis closed the door, and I walked next to Kratos through the hall. No point in hiding from the sentinels now—the jig was up.

We walked in silence. Never before had I really understood the meaning of the phrase “walk of shame,” but as I strutted through the Tower of Ash in my underthings, it seemed to suit my mood perfectly.

It was Kratos who broke the silence. “I told you to stay in the Tower of Wrath.”

“True,” I sighed. “But Adonis asked me to leave it. I wasn’t quite sure which of you I was supposed to listen to. Is there some sort of hierarchy here?”

He cut me a sharp look. “No.”

“Why is it that you want me to stay in the Tower of Wrath?” I prodded.

“You’re safest there. We’re safest with you there.”

Ah, the whole fallen thing.

Even though I’d been caught—even though I’d had a disturbing run-in with Adonis—it had been worth it. Tonight, I’d learned the angels planned to attack the Tower, and this was why I’d come here. I could warn Yasmin in advance, give them a chance to evacuate.

Tomorrow, I’d slip out into the forest to find the mulberry grove.

As we walked, a cold fury rippled off Kratos’s body. This was the downside of my mission. Until I found out more information, I was completely dependent on Kratos’s approval—where I could explore, if I could persuade him to search for Hazel—in fact, if I could stay here at all. If I pissed him off too much, he’d drop me back in my old VD rookery.

What had Yasmin’s advice been with the angels? Charm them. Seduce them.

She hadn’t known about this whole “fallen” thing, that they’d be resistant to my seduction.

Kratos turned to look at me, studying me closely. “What would make you happy?” he asked.

Killing all of you so the world can return to normal. “Dancing,” I said impulsively.

“Maybe I can arrange for that. I could find you a place to dance.”

He seemed willing to please me. I should be using that. “What would make me truly happy,” I said, “is reuniting with my younger sister. You really don’t know where the dragons took their conquests?”

“I could try to find her.”

My heart thrummed in my chest.

I thought of Hazel—just fourteen when I’d last seen her. Those who’d captured her wouldn’t care that she still had nightmares and needed soothing in the middle of the night, that she had to eat snacks all the time or her sugar dropped and she got crazy. They wouldn’t care that she made the most shockingly morbid jokes in her sweet, high-pitched voice, that she stayed up late into the night reading fantasy books with a flashlight. The dragons would not care one bit. Only I cared.

Genuine tears pricked my eyes. “Could you do that? Could you find her?”

“I could at least try. Like you said, there aren’t many succubi around.”

And then all my hope flitted away like a burning moth. A succubus. Of course. He’d be looking for the younger sister of a succubus, not a fae.

Still, I clung to the elusive tendrils of this idea with every fiber of my being.

Maybe Yasmin could find a way to get word to Hazel, give her a warning to glamour herself, just subtle hint of dark magic that only an angel would notice.

I now had two pressing reasons to get to Yasmin tomorrow—to save my sister and to save everyone sheltering in the Tower.

As we approached my room, I looked at Kratos, beaming with genuine gratitude. “That would definitely make me happy.”

Kratos opened the door to my room, leaving me to step into the dark alone. Gently, he closed the door behind me, and I scrambled to light a candle. Exhaling, I watched the tiny flame dance.

Mentally, I reviewed everything that had just happened. What were Adonis’s motives—and why was he so eager to upset Kratos? There was a crack here, a weakness in the angels’ alliance. Adonis wanted to unsettle Kratos, though I didn’t know why.

In the words of the Dark Lord, I planned to make it my mission to find out.