DIVINITY IN CHAINS
by Danielle Devon
(an excerpt)

     Aramon pressed forward, daring to take the fabric in his hand and gently pull it aside. From the window he watched as her fingertips slipped over the hilt of a blade. She took hold of the weapon, drawing it up so that it stood on its tip while she twirled it in circles upon the tip. He didn’t know what her intentions were with the dagger, but he could almost feel the despair rippling through her like a bitter mountain stream… Cold and calculated, wearing at the edges of her soul as the water wears upon the rocks.
     He leaned against the framing, his arms crossed about his chest as the curtain stirred in the breeze behind him. “It is a curse to take ones life before one has truly lived,” he said.
     Her fingers released the dagger so that it fell with a heavy clang against the vanity. She turned slowly, casting a long, breathless glance over her shoulder at him. She pressed her palm to her heart as though she were pinning it down beneath her chest. She said nothing as she turned slowly back around, her fingers working over the blade again, drawing it up so that the handle rested solidly in her palm.
     She rose then and Aramon took a moment to let his gaze drip down her body. Her gown slipped off one shoulder and marble-like skin glowed under the lamplight, the fire sending a soft orangish hue to flush across her body.
     She turned slowly, dagger clutched dangerously beneath an iron fist even as it hung limply at her side. She met his gaze, pupils as black as the night drowning in a cerulean sea flashed with an intoxicating mix of hatred and desire. Her tongue darted out from between her lips, trailing across the plump flesh so that it glimmered with moisture beneath the flicker of the lamp. She did not press forward but did not back away. She stood her ground, her gaze locked on his.