Haunted by the King of Death by Felicity Heaton Page A

wrist, stopping him from escaping, and he looked down at it and then up at its owner.
    “There’s something different about you,” Snow said in a hushed voice, one meant for his ears only, and Grave didn’t like the way his cousin’s eyes searched his, as if hunting for the difference he had sensed and determined to find it no matter how deeply Grave wanted to hide it. Snow’s now-blue eyes narrowed on his. “Four centuries I served with you in Hell, and you were merciless… constantly getting us into trouble… but you were not so cold and emotionless… not even after—”
    Grave looked away, not wanting his cousin to speak about what he had done to their family, not when he was already feeling weak, liable to be overcome and ruled by his emotions. He stared at the dark floor of the backstage area, slowly pulling himself together, trying to shut out his cousins so he could find his balance again and master his feelings, locking them down again.
    Snow didn’t give him a chance.
    “You knew how to laugh,” his cousin whispered close to his face and Grave closed his eyes, hoped to the gods that Sable hadn’t heard that titbit because she would use it against him whenever their paths crossed. Damn. Almost anyone he knew would use it against him to shatter the image he had perfected, the illusion of a male born of darkness, emotionless and cold, a King of Death who ruled with an iron fist and had no weaknesses. Snow tugged him closer still. “You showed concern for your comrades.”
    He still did, but only those who looked closely enough would see it.
    He tried to break away from his cousin, but Snow crowded him and Antoine closed in too, hemming him in against the black wall near the exit.
    “Bloodlust hasn’t robbed you of your feelings or driven you to rage and kill,” Snow husked in a pain-filled whisper that tore at the softer emotions his cousin believed didn’t exist in him anymore. “You are driven by a stronger force now… what happened to you?”
    Grave slid a wary look towards the red couches visible in the narrow gap between his two cousins. Sable appeared to be listening to Aurora, but Grave knew better. She was listening to his conversation with his cousins.
    So no matter how fiercely he wanted to tell Snow what had happened, he wouldn’t do it. He couldn’t expose a vulnerability around so many who might seek to exploit it and use it against him.
    Something in the region of his heart ached, because he knew that Snow was going to take this the wrong way and would be less inclined to listen to him, and more liable to go into a rage.
    Grave braced himself for the latter.
    “Nothing happened.”

CHAPTER 7
    “ N othing happened.”
    And exactly that did happen.
    Grave waited, sure his cousin was just building up to tearing into him, but Snow remained quiet and thoughtful, watching him with knowing ice blue eyes that left Grave feeling he couldn’t hide anything from him, as if he was stripping back his heart layer by layer to reach the diseased part and expose it.
    “I don’t buy it.” Snow shook his head, causing the long silver-white lengths of his hair to sway, and released Grave. “Sell me another line. Something happened to you and now you’re here.”
    His cousin eased back and folded his arms across his chest, causing his biceps to bulge beneath his tight black t-shirt. Intimidation tactics. Snow was only an inch taller than Grave, but he was bigger in build, something he had always used to silently threaten Grave ever since they were youths. It might have worked back then, but it didn’t work now. They were the same age, as powerful as each other despite the difference in their builds. If they clashed, it would be bloody, and beautiful, but neither would emerge the victor.
    Grave glanced at Antoine where he stood sentinel beside his older brother, his arms crossed too and a dark edge to his expression as he glared at Grave that warned if Snow fought, he wouldn’t be alone.