Bride of the Emperor (The Prophecy of Sisters Book 4) by Hayley Faiman (the gingerbread man read aloud txt) 📗

She looks down at me, her hair a sheet around her face. Gripping her hips, I grin up at her. “I know this for a fact, Drucilla. I know that you are my mulier. You are loved by me and I will make you happy until my dying breath. That is all that I can ensure.”

Her lips tremble and violet tears continue to fall between us, but she surprises me. She adjusts herself, aligning my mentula with her center and sinks down along my length. My mulier rides me. It is better than I could have ever imagined, as she is better than I ever imagined possible.

Once we are both spent, she falls forward, resting against my chest, her face nuzzling my neck. “I hope that the maga was wrong and that I can have your baby, Tiberius,” she whispers sleepily.

“It matters not,” I rasp as my fingers glide up and down her back, closing my eyes and relishing her body pressed against my own.

She hums. “I want little warriors that look exactly like their father.”

I don’t respond, because I immediately envision a little girl who looks exactly like her. Long blonde hair, violet eyes, a smile that could melt the fiercest warrior and confidence beyond all other women, because I would make sure that she knew exactly who she was—a regina.

We fall asleep, my softening mentula inside of Drucilla’s warmth.

I know this is exactly where I have always belonged. Where Drucilla was meant to be. Maybe we will have children, maybe the maga is correct and we will not. It doesn’t matter, because we have one another and that is all that we need.

I am too content. I let my guard down and not long after I’ve drifted off to sleep, Diaboli decides to play his games.

Chapter Thirty-Four

DRUCILLA

I feel strong fingers wrap around my throat and I lift my hands and scratch at the hand, trying to pry the fingers away before I even open my eyes to see who it is. When I finally work up the courage to look at my assailant, I cry out and my body begins to tremble in fear.

It’s Chad, well not Chad, but Diaboli in Chad’s body. I don’t know why he continues to take this bastard’s form, I’ve seen the real nasty him before. There’s nothing to hide at this point.

He laughs, then pushes me away and releases his hold on me. I’m not able to stay upright, I fall down on my ass and attempt to catch my breath. He stands over me, tilting his head down, and watches me.

“You know who I am now,” he rumbles.

“I do,” I whisper.

He nods once. “Then you know that you cannot stay alive, not with Tiberius.”

“Why?” I ask.

I’m stalling. I’m sure that I know enough about this to know why he doesn’t want me with Tiberius, to know that he doesn’t want the prophecy fulfilled.

He wants the world to be a dark and ugly place, he wants it so that he can swoop in and take over all of it.

He wants to rule as a giant fuck you to the gods.

There is no other reasonable explanation, however, this is the God of the Underworld, he doesn’t need to be reasonable.

“You are going to be mine, Drucilla. It is not enough that you simply die. You must be mine and he must see it. He must know it. He must be pained because of it.”

Deciding not to bait him, I don’t say a word. I stare at the man, the Devil himself, and I don’t give him a reaction. This probably pisses him off even more, but I don’t care. If he is going to do this, or at least try, then he will get nothing from me—absolutely nothing.

“He will fight for you, will he not?” he asks.

Lifting my chin in the air, I look down my nose at him, refusing to answer. Now that does piss him off. Diaboli takes a few steps toward me. Reaching down, he grabs a fistful of my hair and snaps my neck backward so hard that I’m surprised it doesn’t break.

“Answer me when I ask you a direct question,” he growls.

“He will. To the death,” I grind out.

“Good, watching him die will be satisfying.”

My lips curve up into a grin. “I didn’t say until his death, I said until the death. It will be you who dies,” I hiss, somehow feeling brave for the moment.

Diaboli chuckles, leaning forward. He touches his lips to mine. “I am a god, Drucilla. He will never best me.”

Deciding it’s time for me to shut the hell up, I press my lips together and don’t say another word. Not a single damn word. I don’t need to say anything, because Diaboli is all worked up and he releases me, then starts to pace.

I watch him walk back and forth in front of me muttering to himself. I take the moment to look around and take in my surroundings. Looking around, I let out a small grunt at the sight of the room in front of me.

I’m in a dark, dank, rock room. It’s much like the place I was held captive for a short time in Curia. I don’t know what kinds of powers he holds. Maybe he could have spirited me away to another island in my sleep, who knows.

When Diaboli stops pacing, he turns to face me, his eyes red and angry as he watches me for a long moment. I’m afraid to move, to speak, hell I’m even afraid to think. My entire body trembles as I watch him. His lips curve up into an evil smile and he looks exactly like the devil that he is.

“Are you frightened of me?” he asks.

I could try to put on a false bravado, but he would see right through me. Licking my lips, I nod my head once. “I am,” I breathe. “Where are we?” I chance asking.

It comes out like a blurt and I just