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He observed it all with an inscrutable expression on his face. “You are still consumed with fear, Princess.”
“And you will simply live with the taste,” she snapped.
Disbelief scythed through her when amusement gleamed in his eyes.
She sat against the headboard of the bed. “What did I see?”
“You saw my king’s Cerja.”
“What is it?”
There was the slightest of hesitation, then the corner of his mouth tightened. “Every Darkan is born with a Cerja—a tattoo of a beast that lives in us inked on our back. What you saw was my king’s beast. He summoned it for your protection.”
The memory of Drac’s fangs, the cruelty that lined his face, red eyes, and the blackest of charka all around him rose in her thoughts. She sucked in her breath, her hands flittering to her throat. He had bitten her. The king had thought to protect her from him? “He called forth his beast for my protection?”
“King Gidon would have taken my life to protect you,” Drac said, his voice implacable.
“Why did you bite me?”
He lowered his lashes, before lifting his eyes to her. The regret in them was unmistakable. “Forgive me, Princess. I lost control and I...” A grimace flashed across his face. “I have yet to figure out why I attacked you.”
“You also saved me.” She allowed her gaze to caress the paleness of his features, the dark mark that curve from hair to left cheek, the harsh beauty of his face, waiting for his response. He could not comprehend how frightening he looked crouched before her. Saieke’s curiosity warred with her disquiet, and his silence prompted her to speak, “All Darkans possesses a beast?”
He smiled but it did not reach his eyes. “Yes, but not all can do what my king did. Only the oldest and most powerful of our kind can summon our Cerja to a corporeal form.”
“I had not thought your king was an elder.”
He hesitated. “Gidon is not. My king is a power only a few can comprehend.”
Saieke sensed he was not comfortable talking about his people. “Why do you share this knowledge with me? Many are ignorant about your kind.”
“To allay you fear.”
Saieke hesitated. “I will honor the oath I made even if I fear your people.”
Drac tensed subtly. “I assuage your terror because I do not like it.”
He did not like it? “Don’t you mean that you feed on my fear?” Saieke’s raked her fingers through her tumbled hair. “I know you consume my dark emotions, and you enjoyed my torment.”
He reached out as if to touch her hair and paused. He spoke with quiet intensity, “I have known fear, Princess. Have felt its bitter taste, smelled its fetidness, and I do not wish for you to have such feelings. I did not enjoy your pain. I am deeply regretful you have known such horrors.”
“I doubt you know my fear.” Her fingers tightened on the coverlets.
“I live in a world you cannot comprehend, Princess. I have been broken. Limbs shattered. Spine severed and the stench of my blood all I could inhale. I understand. Be assured that you will not be harmed in my kingdom again,” he vowed.
She believed him. Saieke’s heart clamored as she gazed into the cruelty that lined his features. “Thank you,” she whispered at loss with what else to say. Though it was hard to imagine the predator crouched before her had even been broken as he described.
“May I touch you?” His voice was gravelly and hoarse, and an unexpected shiver of anticipation cascaded down her spine.
“Yes,” she pushed the words past her lips, her heart beating a painful cadence.
His lips curved into a smile. He was such a vicious b
eauty. Oh, why am I so intrigued when I should be petrified?
He held one of her hands, his touch so gentle it was startling. “Though I do not know what prompted the desire to bite you, I promise I will not lose control around you again. Even now, I can taste the anxiety you feel at my closeness, but I swear you have no cause to fear me.”
She wetted her lips, a nervous reaction, and he jerked visibly.
