“Hm,” he says, his gauntleted claws digging into the armrest of the throne. “If you are so resolved, then I wantyouto assess her magical abilities. I expect the results of such a study to be done before I see your miserable face again.”
I rock back on my heels as Eth’tak hoists her into his arms and feels her throat for a pulse. There is one, and I can tell by the way his shoulders soften. But he’s still tense under the scrutiny of the Hooded One. So am I.
“Yes, my King.”
But I worry for the little human in our care if he is not pleased. We all witnessed what happens to those who are of no value to the King of demons.
6
Piper
“Tolmond?” I call out to him, still trembling. He managed to rouse me after we exited the throne room and set me back on my feet. “Where are we going?”
He slows. He was so different before that hooded figure–the King, they said–and it seems he’s still coming back to himself. I want the warm demon–ironically–that I met when I was first brought here. He was so kind, and the way he looked at me…
Well, it’s not like he is now.
Tolmond’s whole body is stiff, like he’s on high alert, and his eyes are cold, though they do soften when he looks to me. As he waits for me to reach his side, his brow creases, and I can see a war of emotion in his eyes.
Ultimately, he gives in to his warmer side, offering me a sympathetic smile. “Sorry. I should have explained.”
He sucks in a deep breath, and I take a step closer. I don’t even think about it, just like with Eth’tak, who had to leave once I woke up. I just feel so drawn to him, and the way that his eyes take me in… Well, I’ve seen men who look at women like that back in the camp.
But no one has ever looked at me that way, it sends a shiver down my spine in anticipation.
“My tower, as you know, serves many purposes. I am taking you to a room where young soz’garoths practice magic. It’s a safe place, devoid of any way to hurt yourself so you can freely practice. It even has magic barriers in place to keep you protected, if needed.”
“But…I don’t understand. Why do I need to go there?”
He smiles at me, and my heart stumbles. Suddenly, all my questions die out.
It’s not fair that he’s so handsome, and when he reaches down to take my hand, warmth floods my body. “Let me show you.”
I think I’d let this demon lead me anywhere with that sultry voice, so smooth unlike Eth’tak’s crackling tone. They draw me in with their soothing timbres, and although they are so different, I am intrigued by both.
He leads me to a massive room. It’s a big, empty dome, save for the locker on the far wall. Tolmond drops my hand and strides toward it, pulling open the door, and inside, I spot numerous instruments inside. I shiver, and I’m not if it’s in fear or anticipation as I take in what’s waiting for me.
But Tolmond only plucks a dark rock the size of his palm from one of the shelves before shutting the cabinet. My brows furrow as I take it in, but he shakes his head at me, grinning mischievously.
“This is going to be fun. I promise. But I do need you to disrobe.”
My jaw drops open. “Disrobe?”
“Yes. The fabrics can disrupt the process. I want to remove anything that may tamper with our test.”
“I can’t just get naked in front of you because you said, ‘trust me’! I-I just can’t!” My cheeks burn, and I don’t want to admit that no man has seen me naked before. It makes me uncomfortable to think that the first one that will I only met today.
But it also sends a tendril of excitement through me.
He’s not just a man. He’s a demon, and that makes this whole process terribly exciting. I should be more afraid of him, but I find myself thrilled by it all. He looks at me like no one else has, not even a simple human man.
Tolmond possesses great power, and yet, he watches me like he wants to devour me. How can I resist him when a demon looks at me like I’m the most important thing in the universe? The stakes of his fierceness only makes me want to strip down more.
“I-I don’t know,” I mumble, holding onto my last shred of logical thought. I know that I shouldn’t, that I should be more modest and self-preserving than that. But there’s a large part of me that doesn’t want anything between us. I want to feel his magic – or his hands – on my body without anything blocking it.
“Here.” He grips the edge of his shirt. “Will it help if you’re not the only one?”
He tosses the fabric over his head, and heat soars through my body. Oh gods, he’s ripped. His obsidian body is made of fine muscle, chiseled to perfection. I want to run my fingers down his chest and over his abs.