To leave no doubt about her intentions, she sent me an image of what she was thinking of that nearly brought me to my knees.
She left with a laugh, her hair streaming behind her like flames, her white dress as pristine as ever. I suspected she knew exactly what she was doing to me. Sadly, I lacked the willpower to stop her.
Once inside the privacy of my tower, I traced the deep gashes herclaws had left on my skin, making them bleed anew as I probed my flesh. I shuddered both in pain and a dark, terrible pleasure at the sensation, at the thought that she had been inside me just as much as I had been inside her.
It would take only a bit of my power to remake this mortal body as flawless as before, but I did not. Instead, I allowed those wounds to scar, a visible mar on the fair form I preferred to show the world these days, proof of the hold she had over me.
CHAPTER
19
Noctis
The next days were tense. Rada and I only talked in curt, brief sentences when absolutely necessary. The weather matched our mood, spring’s warmth turning into the sweltering heat of summer.
I found myself in the barn, my mind drifting to her as I swept the floor with a brushwood broom. The rhythmic movement was oddly mesmerizing. Despite being unfamiliar with farm work, I found it surprisingly enjoyable. The physical labor left me so exhausted I fell asleep the moment my head hit the pillow. I had never slept so deeply. During the long years of my reign over Sharith, my dark fortress in the remote northern lands, I had found no rest at all, wandering the corridors at night.
The araks were fascinating creatures—good-natured but stubborn and fierce if provoked. They followed a strict hierarchy, led by the matriarch of the herd. Humans were only accepted after earning their respect. I felt I was makingprogress with the younger troublemakers; they no longer tried to run me over when I took them to the pasture, though they still complained loudly when I milked them, often hitting me with their bushy tails.
After sweeping up every stray stalk of hay, I straightened, only a faint pull reminding me of the fresh scar on my right side. I’d been on the farm for two moons now and was feeling better with every passing day. As was Rada.
I still did not know what that meant. Did she want me to leave? Honestly, it would have been better if I did. My presence posed a constant threat to her safety, as my enemies wouldn’t hesitate to use her to get to me. The encounter with Tharion had been my fault, yes, but Vultaron must have used a tracking spell to follow me here. It was only a matter of time until the remaining eight acolytes turned up if they were after the Adept of Chaos’s power. Some of them were a lot worse than the two of my former servants I had already disposed of. The mere thought of someone like Iblis or Deira getting their hands on Rada sent an icy spike of terror through me.
But where could I go? Returning to my desolate, lonely life as a mercenary did not hold much allure. After years without Rada, her presence, even if it consisted mostly of angry glares and tense silences, was an addiction I couldn’t break.
Making honorable, self-sacrificial decisions had never been my strength. I was not my brother. No one knew that better than me.
Bane, lying on a stack of hay bales near the barn entrance, theatrically rolled on his back, his little paws up in the air. I knew better than to try petting him; I’d only get swiped at.
“Are you finishing up? I could use your help with the cheese.”
The soft voice drew my attention to the open double door. Rada stood there, bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun. The golden rays lingered on her skin, making me swallow. I became acutely awareof my sweaty state: the simple shirt clinging to my body, the stubble on my face, my unruly hair.
As if her dress was not torture enough. White, made of a material so thin it clung to her tempting curves like a second skin. The alluring hint of her nipples suggested she had forgone a chemise in the heat, opting to wear nothing underneath. It revealed too much for my peace of mind, and the innocent color—the color of Order—only made it worse.
Maybe she had chosen it on purpose, a reminder of what I once had and could never touch again.
“Of course.” I leaned the broom against the barn wall and stepped closer. “Just let me rinse off first.” I met her eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll be thorough. I know how much you hate it when things get dirty.”
My teasing was rewarded by a heated glance. However, she simply nodded, scooping Bane into her arms, holding the cat between us like a furry chaperone. I felt her eyes on me, though, as I walked to the outdoor shower. My lips quirked in amusement as I noticed she had placed a few towels and a clean set of my clothes on a hook nearby.
How thoughtful of her.
We were stuck in a frustrating pattern. The tension between us continuously rising until one spark set up an explosion. Both of us licking our wounds in the aftermath, only to begin the circle anew.
I took my time in the shower, savoring the refreshing water and imagining Rada fantasizing about me.Lyr, I had to abandon that train of thought, or no amount of cold water in all of Aron-Lyr would be enough to calm my need for her. Taking care of it myself barely took the edge off.
I wanted her. My weak Human body struggled to comprehend why we couldn’t tumble into a glorious maelstrom of desire once more when she clearly wanted me, too. There was no one here tostop us. Except the ghosts of our past. Howling and ferocious, they were impossible to put to rest.
When I entered the house in fresh clothes, my hair haphazardly towel-dried, Rada was all efficient composure again. Her icy expression wouldn’t have been out of place in the court of the Ten, where she had sat in judgment of lawbreakers.
“The cheese is down in the cellar.”
She led me to a heavy wooden trapdoor outside the house. Steep stairs awaited us, the air growing cooler with each step as the wooden walls gave way to rough-hewn stone. We passed through a low-ceilinged room filled with supplies that would spoil in Lasgallen’s humid climate. I had often come down here to collect food and store the heavy cans filled with the araks’ bluish milk. At the far end, Rada opened another door. I gave her a questioning look.
She stroked the wall. “There was a farm here before. Destroyed during the war. I needed the storage space. So I built on top of the ruins.”
Lasgallen had been the first realm I attacked after the Tree’s fall, knowing I needed to secure my supply lines. The resistance I’d encountered had been surprisingly fierce. The people of Lasgallen were simple farmers, not warriors, but they possessed stubborn hearts. I had broken that resistance with no mercy, setting aflame every farm whose owners did not swear fealty to me. I touched the wall at the same spot Rada had, wondering what had happened to those who had lived here before. Had they been among those who paid the price for my ambitions?
