Swallowing, she nodded and stepped away from him, continuing on her route around the square. She was conscious of Ashul shadowing her as he silently followed, but he made no further effort to speak to her and she was glad. What could she possibly say in response to that? The question and his revelation weighed on her when they returned to the tavern and went up to their room to wait. In the days of their travel, Ashul had never spoken of his past or anything meaningful about himself at all… until now, and she wasn’t sure she liked how it made her feel to see him as a person just as broken as her. Yet, unlike her, he was formidable and unapologetic for taking that which he wanted.
Why did that appeal to her in some small, secret, and undeniably twisted way?
ChapterEight
Ashul watched from the gathered shadows of their room as one client after another crept in cautiously. They were like timid mice terrified of being eaten as they sought out what they wanted. He itched with impatience as he watched Robyn extend herself repeatedly by summoning the shades of those who had gone before. He did not like it.
He did not know much about necromancy, but he knew that this particular working that summoned them across the veil to speak directly with their kin was one that used considerable energy. Even the court necromancer of his mother’s kingdom, the one he had foolishly hoped that his mother would send to recover him out of some small maternal feeling, had rarely done so unless he needed to consult a spirit over a particular matter. It was infrequent and certainly not in back-to-back conjurations as she was doing.
It was infuriating! She wasted herself and her power for their petty complaints and needs. True, she was spent of her energy and slept for nearly a day after their first encounter with his resurrection, but he did not walk her around afterward to seek out fallen warriors for her to return to life afterward either. Not that he had not considered it before realizing that he didn’t feel the presence of any of his brethren lingering. But still… he did not insist that she try anyway and that was at least something.
Not that he was worried about his necromancer. To even think it was laughable. He just did not want her so tired that she wished to linger another night. He didn’t object to the soft bed or the abundant food, but being around so many humans was making his skin itch unpleasantly. An allergy, perhaps… but no, sleeping next to Robyn did not affect him in such a way.
Sighing, he crossed his legs at the ankles and waited patiently as the summoned spirit departed and a teary-eyed human handed forth a few coins with a murmured thanks. It had been no less all day, a parade of weepy humans searching for words of comfort from beyond the grave. He scratched his jaw with his claws as he considered death. It was a subject with which he was quite familiar. There had never been a single individual whom he had wished to speak to after they died. Their death was an inconvenience and one less set of hands, but there had been none that he had been so close to that he felt such a grievous lack when they were gone. Life was about death… and cheating it. He did not understand the purpose of railing against it or trying to bring back those from beyond the veil when they could no longer rejoin the world.
Still, he could see that it made the necromancer… Robyn… happy. He shook his head as he watched her blink back tears as she walked her last client to the door. It was odd to see such a sensitive soul in a necromancer. All the ones he had known had been cold, ruthless, and calculating, with a mastery and comfort in darkness. Robyn, however, was as sweet as her name implied, more a bird of spring than a creature of the night and shadows. She did not hardly seem to belong to his world. How could she even survive when she refused to utilize her magic fully? It baffled him how she had survived so long.
It made him feel… strange inside. She could so easily be eaten by something bigger and crueler than her, and he took exception to that. He was not going to let anything else snatch her away from him. He was her one and only terrible monster. For that reason, he felt as if he should protect that. Protect her.
He snorted.Ridiculous.Just because he found her shapely legs and curves intriguing did not mean that he should feel any compulsion beyond getting safely separated from her. He just had to make sure that she didn’t get them killed… That was all. He was merely… fascinated, which was not so odd considering that she herself stood apart.
Now that he had a good look at much of what lay beneath her clothing, it only increased that fascination. It was a healthy sexual intrigue, though a forbidden one for the males among his people, that would likely depart the moment he was no longer leashed to her. But that did not mean he could not enjoy playing with it now. It meant nothing more than that. So why did that make him feel so out of sorts?
Regardless, he could not deny that there was something attractive about her that he had failed to initially see. Although he still considered her paleness peculiar, now that he was accustomed to it, he decided that he had been wrong. Her appearance was not unnatural to his eyes but made him think of the soft colorless petals of the night-blooming jasmine that her scent brought to mind. She was a unique flower blooming amid the darkness, one that his people would have trampled underfoot if they had the opportunity… as he had nearly done when he had tried to snuff out her life.
Truthfully, he thanked the gods he had not succeeded, though part of him still resented his captivity. But he had been wrong about his necromancer just as his people would have been wrong, seeing her as something to annihilate rather than to treasure as the rarity that she was. A treasure that he wanted to possess more every day, even though he suspected it was only an infuriatingly temporary obsession.
He stood as she closed the door. His eyes fixed on her, he paced, holding her to him with his gaze even as he tried to work out his restlessness. Robyn peered at him, her fingers toying with the collar of her tunic. Her throat worked, and he wondered if she was nervous. A wicked smile stretched his lips at her apprehension.
Now this was much better. She met direct attacks and violence head on, but this had her delightfully spooked. He liked that she was so hyper-aware of him. For once he truly had his necromancer’s attention completely rather than suffering her dismissal as she attempted to outright ignore him. He could imagine that he could see her pulse fluttering in her throat as her eyes followed his movements back and forth and he stalked the length of the room.
And he knew that she watched his every step because, thanks to his fascination, he could not take his eyes off her any more than she could seem to look away from him. His gaze never left her of late—as if he hungered for the sight of her. He did not understand it. He had never been affected in such a way and he hated the power it had over him, but knowing that he too held similar power over her sent a thrill through him that he wanted to explore.
He suddenly wanted to see just how far he could push and just how much more of her that he could steal away and call his own in addition to her gaze clinging to him. Her strange pale eyes were now his, and he would kill any other male they lingered on.
Did she suffer from the same covetousness? The thought strangely appealed to him that this affliction too they shared. Perhaps the reason she did not wish him to hunt was not necessarily over any soft feelings for the human. Maybe it was because she wished to be his prey. His eyes narrowed on her, and a shiver stole over him as he latched greedily onto the idea. Did he wish that she coveted his attention? His tongue stroked over his lips, and he nearly purred with satisfaction as her eyes dipped and immediately followed its path. He took a slow step toward her and relished the way that she immediately stepped back, her eyes flicking warily to his face.
“I assume you are ready to go,” she said hesitantly as he stalked toward her leisurely, circling in closer and closer. “We need to head out so we have time to get supplies before the shops close.”
“Do we?” he murmured. “I am quite ready.”
He was ready to explore the intriguing aspects of this leash between him and the necromancer. Perhaps it worked both ways and he could equally master her. How he would love to see her quiver beneath his hand, open completely to his will.
He allowed the shadow to coil out from around him so that it whispered around her in teasing twists of darkness that had her eyes whipping to each one and off him for the moment it took for him to slide in closer to meet each hasty step back until he finally had her backed against the wall. His hand closed again around her neck, applying a subtle pressure to the sides that made her pupils expand as she quivered beneath his touch. His heart pounded with the excitement of the hunt, a hunger uncurling within his belly, making itself known. He leaned down and scented her neck, and his eyes rolled back at the scent of spring rain and ripe berries came back to him.
He stretched out the long length of his tongue and let it slide in a firm, trailing sweep up her neck, her sweet musky flavor complementing her exquisite scent. Her perfume bloomed and thickened at her pulse, and he growled. He dropped his head, his sharp teeth scoring her shoulder, the sweetness of her blood blooming over his tongue and moaned with pleasure as Robyn gasped, her body arching into his. He growled and clutched her tighter, bliss sweeping over him as he ran his tongue over the tiny wound. What he was doing would have had him seen punished.
Males were forbidden to take blood from females. Only with the express permission of their mate could they even hope to enjoy the incredible pleasure of giving the blood kiss. Though being on the receiving end delivered pure pleasure through their hormones transmitted through the saliva, there was nothing like drawing her true essence in and tasting her in the most intimate way.
It made him hunger to explore her further and taste every variant of her flavor over her body. To plunder and take it all for his own, leaving nothing left of her untouched and unclaimed until he was ready to release her when their journey came to an end.
Lifting her against him, trapped between his body and the wall, his cock dragged over her belly and dropped lower until it was pressing at the cradle of her thighs where her feminine heat drew him. She whimpered in the back of her throat, and he closed his eyes in pleasure at the sound. It was a small one, but it was just the beginning.
“Little bird, I shall make you sing yet,” he rasped against her skin. “And that too I will claim so no one else shall ever hear your sweetest of songs. I shall possess you entirely as surely as you leash me—I shall collar you in turn. I will imprint myself upon you so that you will be mine even long after I have left you.”
She stiffened in his arms, though he ignored it as he ran his tongue along the slope of her breast that pushed up over the low collar of her tunic. It begged for tasting, and so he saw to it with every bit of pleasure until an iciness suddenly flowed over her, and a blast of her power sent him flying back from her and into the small table behind him with a crash. The wood did not break beneath him, but the table overturned, taking him down to the floor with it, the edge of the table hitting his side hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs. He growled as he pushed himself up only to meet Robyn’s furious gaze as her power lashed, barely contained, around her.
As he stared up at her, the power slowly dimmed and faded as her jaw came up and she snatched her cloak and bag from the chair that had somehow remained upright. She gave him a cold look as she drew the cloak around her and pulled the hood over her head.