Carnival of Lies by Melissa Marr Read Free Book Online

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    A YA BROUGHT HER KNEE up as hard as she could while simultaneously pulling Belias’ body downward. It was a solid hit to his chest. As he started to fall farther forward, she brought her elbow down on the back of his neck.
    He grunted at impact and bent double, but didn’t go to the ground. “Good,” he said. “Harder though, especially if it’s not me you’re fighting.”
    He grabbed her calf and jerked her legs out from under her.
    â€œAnd don’t let words distract you,” he half teased as she hit the floor of the fight room they’d reserved for the morning.
    She stayed on the floor, staring up, holding Belias’ gaze. He was smiling, happy, and relaxed when it was just the two of them. In The City, he had a role to fill, a duty he took far more seriously than most daimons of their age, but Belias’ father had died when he was young, so he’d always had a somberness to him. It was one of the things she’d decided she liked when she was told he’d be her spouse: he seemed more like a man than most daimons of their caste.
    As she rolled to her side and came to her feet, she asked, “Have you ever thought about Marchosias’ Competition?”
    He frowned. “No.”
    â€œEnrollment is coming up soon.” She paced away from him to grab a rag to wipe the sweat from her face. The bin of scraps was at the edge of the fight area so they had conveniently located material. Typically, the cloths were used to staunch blood or bind wounds, but she had no need for that with Belias. Other than bruises and sore muscles, she was, once again, uninjured. Sometimes Belias was willing to train with weapons, but the older they became, the less often he was willing to fight all-out with her.
    â€œRuling-caste daimons are talking about entering. Sol is, and I think Nicco too,” she said.
    Belias followed her. “Why would I need to do that? The prize is something we already have.”
    He curled one hand around her hip, gently pulling her toward him. She wasn’t surprised. They ended most of their fights with sex, but right now, she wanted to talk. She’d been thinking about the competition more and more, but it was a difficult subject to broach. It would be far easier to let the subject drop, more satisfying too. It didn’t take much for her body to scream yes to his advances. She liked to think it had been easier to say no before their first night together, but she knew that was a lie. If he’d have pressured her, truly used his charms, she’d have been in his bed— or any other nearby flat surface— the first time he kissed her. As it was, it had been a matter of days between his decision to be intimate and her acquiescence. There was no reason to deny him: they’d been betrothed since her birth. He was hers, the daimon selected for her, the one who would have control over most of her choices until one of them died.
    She turned toward him, enjoying the way his hand slid across her body as she moved. Sometimes she thought that their intimacies weren’t so different from their fights. In both, he was more experienced, and she was determined to impress him enough that he forgot everyone before her. She wanted him to be unable to even consider looking at anyone else—even though she knew that most daimons took mistresses or made use of the red-masked pleasure vendors in the carnival. All of the men—and more than a few women—in their caste did so. Some weren’t discreet about it, flaunting their bedmates with no regard for the feelings of their betrothed or even for their wives. Belias, however, wasn’t crass. He’d always been discreet in his encounters, even before she was old enough to know what he did with those women.
    â€œSo you aren’t going to enter the competition and show off your prowess?” she prompted.
    â€œIf you want to watch me fight, you can watch me when