The anger was back, blooming in my chest as a bubble of viscous acid.
Kilian stood at the doorway, a towel slung low around his abdomen. A very naked abdomen.
Water slicked the curls in his hair, dripping onto his chest.
And my mouth. Went. Dry.
He crossed the threshold, eyes scanning the disaster that was his room. The scattered pages, upturned bookshelf, and chaotic mess of sheets on the floor. And then they narrowed at me. “What are you doing in my bedroom? What have you done to my bookshelf? Those are fuckingbattle briefsyou’re standing on!”
His mouth twisted into a thin line of pure wrath as I took my boot and scrunched the page beneath my feet. He moved so fast my mortal eyes barely tracked the movement; he was standing at the door and then right before me, his face mere inches from mine.
“Leave.”
“No.” I leaned into the anger, letting it wash over me, relishing the blistering heat it left in its wake. “Do you realize what you’ve done by swearing me to this oath? I have been living with your rage for the past two days. It’s been fuckingmiserable! Why are you this angry? Surely you can’t get any work done when you feel like snapping people’s necks in half all the godsdamned time!”
I mustered enough courage to poke him in the chest, but realized immediately that might have been an even worse idea than trashing his room. Firstly, I really had no business knowing how hard and warm his muscles were beneath his chest. Secondly, the menacing glint in his eyes turned to granite-flecked steel.
He caught at my wrist before I could whip it away.
“If you wanted to touch me, you could have just asked.”
I tried to tug my arm away, but he had found the thin bracelet gifted to me that morning and I feared the chain would snap. His fingers curled around the pendant now. Something akin to recognition flickered in his eyes. “Where did you get this?”
“It was a gift, from an elven near Pyxis.” I paused. “Why? What is it?”
His brow rose at my question. “You don’t know what it symbolizes, yet you wear it?”
Asshole.
“Are you going to tell me what it means, or not?”
“It’s a charm. The outer layer signifies continuity. The inner eye means caution. It’s upper magic, a protection spell of sorts, to watch over you as you continue your journey. The elven have hope that a new mortal will pass the Rite.”
“Why do they want that?” I asked my question again, knowing it would be a waste of time. “Why are the Trials so important?”
“I told you before.” Ice coated his words afresh. “Pass the Rite and you’ll find out.”
I wrenched my grip from his, unsatisfied once again. It served no use hitting him when all he would do was block my blows. I would be the one sent back to Midius, likely in a matchbox. But destroying his possessions… Now, that I could do.
I whipped back to the weapons rack, striding forward. But before I could lay one finger on the rack, he had me pinned against its side.
His forearm pressed into the delicate skin of my throat, his body taut and tense against mine. He ran one finger idly down the hooks of my protective gear and my breath hitched. “Do you know how easy it would be for me to end your life, Lirahna Aldhur, scullery cook in the house of Golund?”
“Don’t make idle threats, Kilian Valhan. Either you’re going to kill me, or you’re not.” The words came out more confident than I felt. “And I don’t think you are.”
He huffed and rolled his eyes, but his grip loosened slightly.
“You were upset I wasn’t the governor’s daughter,” I said, switching focus. “What is so special about that girl? Why did you want her instead of me?”
“I don’t want her. Not anymore,” he said. “But I wondered… No one had ever seen the girl. The governor kept her protected at all times. I thought there might be something he was trying to hide from the elven.”
Ah. He thought the governor’s daughter might have possessed the ability to pass the Rite. To turn elven.
“And you don’t think that anymore?”
“I’m starting to think there was a reason we found you instead. Septimus was drawn to the governor’s house on Augustine. I had assumed it was for his daughter. But now, I’m not so sure.”
I shifted slightly, the movement causing his hips to press closer against mine, and I felt it again. The anger, yes, but lurking deep beneath, a starving beast. His soft breath skated across my skin like a cool summit breeze, peppermint and ice. And I wanted… Gods, I could not allow myself to think about what I wanted. Not from the elven standing before me.
