Wrath: The Devil Duke

Slowly, with sleek steps the king of the jungle would have envied, the marquess started for her again. 

“I’ll ask once more who sent you here,” he whispered. “If you don’t answer me, I promise you’ll regret it.” 

Rage twisted Lord Malden’s features and contorted the beautiful, chiseled masterpiece that was his face into one befitting a pitiless beast. 

This time, she didn’t fight for bravery. 

Her pulse pounding, Edith dashed away from the marquess.

She darted her panicked gaze to the door. 

Lord Malden tracked her focus. 

With a low, ugly, chuckle, he stepped between Edith and that panel. Having stolen her only escape, he resumed his advance. 

With every retreating step she took, Lord Malden’s grin grew, revealing gleaming rows of perfect pearl-white teeth.

Edith shivered. Never before had she known it was possible for a smile wide as his to possess absolute nothingness. 

Her back collided with the wall. 

Trapped.

The marquess stopped a half pace away. Even with a slight bridge in space between them, he soared nearly a foot over Edith, so she needed to tip her neck back to meet his stare. 

She eyed him warily.

Up close she detected the specks of gold in his blue irises. Like a real-life Midas who’d struck an arrangement with Dionysus, even Lord Malden’s eyes were gold. 

In one fluid motion, the marquess unsheathed a dagger from his boot. 

Edith gasped and recoiled into herself.

The marquess placed the tip of his knife against her trembling lips.

Only when that cold steel no longer touched her skin did Edith breathe easier. 

Her reprieve proved short-lived. 

With a maddening languidness, Lord Malden glided his blade lower. 

Edith bit the inside of her cheek hard enough to make her taste blood for a second time that night—only, this time, that salty tinge belonged to her. 

“Tsk, tsk,” he remarked in a playful air, completely shattered by the steely edge that robbed it of any hint of levity. “I warned you, wench, not to make me ask a third time.” 

Whimpering, Edith drew more deeply into herself. 

“Which begs the question…” He moved closer so his lips brushed her ear. “How shall I punish you for your disobedience?”