A Touch of Brimstone (Magic of the Damned Book 1) by McKenzie Hunter

Author:McKenzie Hunter [Hunter, McKenzie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-08-17T04:00:00+00:00

13

Calling it a room was an understatement. If it had a kitchen, it could easily be an apartment. Striking in blush and white, the room boasted gorgeous elaborate ceiling moldings and a king-size bed with a beautiful, tufted headboard and aged wood frame. It all seemed far too elegant for me to wear my oversized shirt that paid homage to The Picture of Dorian Gray—which had seemed whimsical and cheeky while packing—and shorts.

The silk-patterned chaise lounge and a chic flared-arm sofa did nothing to minimize the size of the room. One side of the room was a window, bathing the room in warm light from the garden and providing a spectacular overhead view of crimson and black flowers and a pergola with drawn curtains and delicate warm lighting giving it a comforting ambiance.

The bathroom was a relaxing oasis, the light a pale hue, making it seemed candlelit. In a world of perpetual dusk, these people seemed to appreciate light.

Aware of Dominic watching me, I gave the room just a sweeping look, underappreciating the shower stall with the stacked stone walls and overhead shower that gave the impression of bathing under a waterfall. The free-standing stone tub, I could imagine emerging from and wrapping my body in towels from the warmer, letting all the drama of the day spill from me. That was the point. This wasn’t just a place to lay my head for the night, but a more subtle manipulation. Luring me into complacency.

Turning, I eyed him with suspicion. He seemed to bask in me being enamored by the room. It had its intended effect. Everything about this room was in diametric opposition to him and the situation. Soothing, warm lights, luxe and inviting furniture, the prospect of a warm shower, and even the picturesque view of the softly lit garden and pergola. Even the faint scent of lavender and chamomile made it difficult to stay enraged, and I desperately wanted to cling to my anger like a toddler gripping their favorite stuffed animal. It would serve me well not to underestimate or become too comfortable with the Prince of the Underworld.

But his words from earlier kept nagging at me. Had I made things worse, ensured that I wouldn’t survive? I wanted Nailah to tell me my fate hadn’t changed.

As people emerged from the shadows, placing food on the table in the pergola, I tightened my hold on my bag as if bolting out of the Underworld with it in hand was remotely an option.

“I thought it would be nice to have dinner in the garden.”

Really, dinner surrounded by flowers that were a staunch reminder of where I was and who I was with? Well, okay. At least he wasn’t trying to woo me.

“That would be nice.”

My easy response drew his attention. His brows lifted and his depthless eyes bored even harder into me. Placing my bag on the dresser, I gave him an affable smile. Make nice with the prince.

“Things between us do not have to be contentious,” I said.

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