9
The taste of earth and damnation
ZARA
My body aches in places I didn’t know could hurt, and my face should be a map of bruises, cuts, and humiliation. The air I breathe is heavy, laden with the mingling scents of sweat, blood, and something darker that my mind refuses to name. Every muscle protests as I move myself off the rock, one arm pressed against it for support.
Kade watches me from across the cave. He isn’t calm, but he isn’t tense either. He’s caught in the heady aftermath of whatever the hell just happened between us, and I don’t like knowing he’s feeling the same as I am. His dark eyes still track me like he’s a predator, and I hate the way they pin me in place, even though he isn’t touching me.
I glare at him as I pull my trousers back up and the asshole doesn’t have the decency to look away. He smirks, that same infuriating, self-satisfied expression that makes my blood boil.His expression is a sharp contrast to the knot of confusion and shame twisting inside me. My body is buzzing with the warmth of my climax and I hate that I don’t know where my feelings end and the ebon chain’s magic begins.
Every breath I take is a betrayal, every lingering ache a reminder of how far I’ve fallen.
“I’d tell you that you look better, but I’d be lying,” Kade says, his voice a low drawl that drips with mockery. “You were a mess before, Zara. You’re a disgrace now.”
“Go to hell,” I snap, my voice hoarse.
He chuckles, the sound echoing off the cave walls like a taunt. “Darling, we’re already there.”
My fingers tremble as I push my hair out of my face, the strands damp with sweat and sticking to my skin. I refuse to let him see how shaken I am, even though his gaze rakes over me, taking in every detail. His gaze lingers over my breasts and freezes at my hips, and I shudder, unsure if he’s staring at them or what he remembers lies between my legs.
The bond between us hums faintly, a sickening reminder of what we’ve just done. It’s not a normal connection; it’s alive, pulsing with an energy that feels foreign and intimate all at once. I feel him in my chest, in the back of my mind, like a ghost whispering just out of earshot. I writhe against it and he twists whatever connection we have, hurting himself as much as he hurts me in the process.
“Stop staring at me,” I spit, my voice sharper than I intended.
Kade shrugs, unbothered. “Can’t help it. You’re fascinating when you’re pissed off.”
I grab a rock from the ground and hurl it at him. He sidesteps it easily, his smirk widening. The warlock crosses his arms and his forearms tense, drawing my attention. They’re massive and the ink staining them is impressive, an almostdazzling display of intricate patterns that display his power and prowess.
“Temper, temper,” he chides, and I hate the way his voice sends a shiver down my spine.
I don’t know what I’m most furious about. I let this happen and I hate myself for it. I hate myself for giving in and letting him fuck me, for putting up barely any resistance at all. Worse, I hate that my body still feels the echoes of his touch and even more disgustingly, some traitorous part of me is desperate to feel it again.
Kade is a monster, but he’s a great fuck.
I swallow, disgusted with myself because the man who murdered my sisters is the best fuck of my life.
I’ve known many men and not one of them came close to giving me the pleasure I’ve just experienced. He’s gifted and experienced, and the combination of the two is a heady mixture that my body’s craving. I want him and I hate him. I hate myself. I hate this damn blood weave that ties us together and forces me to endure every moment of his smug satisfaction.
“You love my cock.”
My eyes narrow. “About as much as you love my cunt.”
“Careful, sweetheart,” he says, his boots crunching on the cave floor as he steps closer. “You’ve got more than one hole, darling, and I’m not averse to using them.” His eyes light as I swallow. “All of them. Repeatedly.”
My legs tremble and I lean back on the rock, hoping he doesn’t notice my fear. Or my excitement. My head’s a mess and my body wants what it can’t have, and I don’t know if it truly wants this or if it’s being compelled by whatever bond ties us together.
All I know is that this is madness, and I can’t breathe. Ican’t think. I can’t be, not with him here. Not when he’s the cause of all this misery.
“We should leave soon,” he says, as if we’re discussing the weather. “This place reeks of desperation.”
“Then get out,” I snap.
He arches an eyebrow, his lips curling into a mockery of a smile. “You think I’m leaving without you?”
“I think you should.”
His eyebrows drop and an expression I can’t place flickers over his face. It could be annoyance but it seems softer, and it’s gone in a heartbeat and I sigh, certain I’ll never pin it down.
