Crown of Crimson (Underworld Gods #2) Read Online Karina Halle

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Myth/Mythology, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Underworld Gods Series by Karina Halle
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Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 110034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
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Death straightens up behind me, running his hand over my ass.

“Don’t say I never do you any favors,” he says gruffly before lightly spanking my pussy.

I let out a gasp, then grin to myself. I try to push up off the desk. My limbs feel like jelly, and my muscles are still shaking from coming so many times.

He reaches out and helps me up, spinning me around until I’m pressed up against him, this big hard beautiful wall of a man. His cock is still rock hard, sticking straight up between us, ready to go again.

Dear lord. I can’t believe I actually married him.

I can’t believe I married a fucking God.

“I missed this look,” he says after a moment, his gaze softening. I’m startled as he reaches out and rubs his thumb across my lips before gently tucking a strand of hair behind my ears. Gives me a smile so fleeting that it feels like a secret.

A sudden loud chirp comes from the back of the room, making me jolt, interrupting this rare, quiet moment.

The spell is broken.

“What was that?” I cry out.

Death reaches down and pulls up his pants. “The snowbird.”

“Snowbird?” I repeat.

He nods, doing up the buttons on his shirt and jerks his head toward the corner where a few old, yellowing globes and darkened bookshelves are lined with ancient texts. There’s what looks like a birdcage in the corner, covered by an animal pelt.

I tug down at my dress to make sure I’m properly covered, then walk over to the cage. I pull off the pelt and gasp.

In between the iron bars is a bird…I think. It’s about the size of a chicken, stark white with red eyes, but instead of feathers it is covered in lizard-like scales. The only feathers are on its bat-like wings.

“Oh my god,” I gasp, unable to believe my eyes. “Is this…is this a dinosaur?”

“Is it?” Death says, coming up behind me.

“Yes! It’s like a pterodactyl or pterosaur or something. Maybe it’s a baby, but it might even be full grown.”

Death shrugs, as if he doesn’t have something extremely rare and fascinating in his study. “I don’t know what it is. Sarvi found it on the mountain. Thought I might like to keep it, or at the very least, I can catalogue it.”

“You sure like to lock things up and throw away the key,” I mutter.

“I took my chances with you, didn’t I? One day the snowbird will be tame enough to be free and I won’t fear it leaving. Can’t say the same for you.”

I glance at him sharply. “You’re a real control freak.”

He glowers at me. Then he looks back to the dinosaur and a look of realization comes across his brow. “That reminds me. You never happened to come across a mermaid in your chambers, did you?”

Chapter 13

Hanna

“The Mask”

It’s so nice to have you back in the castle, Raila’s voice wakes me up. Already the weather is improving.

I blink and roll over in bed so that I’m facing the window. Outside it’s still gray and overcast, but the rain has stopped and the light is different, as if the clouds have thinned a little.

Figures. All Death needed to lighten his mood was to fuck me up the ass. I don’t say this to Raila, of course.

After our angry tryst in the solarium, he made me leave the room. Said he had some important work he needed to do. Naturally I asked what the work was, bringing up the point that if I’m going to be his queen, that I should know what’s happening.

But the only thing he’d concede was that I was to take my old room back. Not his room, mind you, which should be where I belong. But, since the alternative was the oubliette, I decided beggars couldn’t be choosers.

And after the way he fucked me yesterday, it’s apparent I have no problems being a beggar. Part of me is annoyed that I played into his little game so easily, that all my resolve disappeared the moment he kissed me. As if he wasn’t a major asshole who literally tossed me into a freaking oubliette. Once again, he has my libido wrapped around his gloved finger.

Of course, the other part of me is fucking delighted that he took me the way he did. Death shows so much restraint and control sometimes that I want nothing more than to watch him unravel. I love the way my body undoes those carefully wound threads.

To be honest, lying here in my room, even though I’m not sharing a bed with him, I feel like a queen. I feel strong. It’s like…even if it’s just something physical, the way our bodies come together gives me power. Perhaps I can’t win my husband over with my wits or my heart (not that I’ve given him the latter) but I know I can bring him to his knees if I want to.


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