Page 50 of Vervain

The way those muscles tense.

The lure of those crimson-dipped eyes and how they soften in my presence.

Candlelight turns into a shadow of nothingness, forcing my memories to rise, like I’m gasping for breath underwater. Remembered moments curdle like milk in the pit of my acidic stomach. When my mouth found his. My fingers slipping into silky hair. Exploring his marble skin.

“Your heartbeat is stuttering.”

Maybe I am thirsty…

With a huffed breath, I shake off the memories that shackle me, and keep my focus ahead—not on the nightwalker I desperately want to kiss.

No words are needed. Serun knows that my proximity to him is fuelling my growing curiosity about everything I was taught to hate.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

MECHANORECEPTION

Saya Claymore

Serun leads me down the stairs and into the main foyer. Darkness cloaks us like fog, creating a thick haze and making it hard to see anything. A stark difference from the corridor we just came from.

To protect him from intruders?

Serun’s shadows wrap more snugly around him, as if he’s expecting someone to trespass, and he’ll need to conceal himself in an instant.

He takes me through a door just off the main foyer. Vervain floral patterns glitter around us as soft lighting fills the room like an overflowing cup, spilling from the fireplace near the two black leather couches with red silk pillows. Tall bookshelves fill the space around the fireplace, cluttered with stacks of leaning books.

“We are training in…here?” I say with a lifted brow and side-eye at the Nightwalker Lord. He makes his way across the room, stepping onto the soft rug running thick across the dark stone, while I wait near the door.

Sinking into the leather couch, his crimson eyes settle on me, and a hint of a smile chisels his face. “In your first training session, you will conjure your magik and hold a glamour for more than a minute. Fear…anger…and even frustration will be of no use if you cannot do the basics, kamai.”

“Stop calling me that if you aren’t going to tell me what it means,” I mutter, my fingers curling until my hands clench into a fist.

He smiles sweetly at me, tilts his head, and shrugs. “Perhaps after you do this one simple task for me, I might entertain the idea of releasing you from your torment.”

“You might be calling me something nasty,” I claim.

“Could be.” He nudges his chin towards me. “Can we focus, or do you want to keep taking jabs at me with a blunt blade?”

I clench my teeth together. Goddess of Light, I hate how he speaks sometimes—but I also hate how right he is. I need to learn to use my magik to the fullest of my ability.

I move further into the room, towards the fireplace. “Why in here? What if I destroy something of yours?”

“Do you think I would care?”

I hint at a smile. “No…I don’t believe so, nightwalker.”

Running my fingers along the spines on the bookshelf, a softness I’m not entirely used to smooths out the tense muscles in my face. For a fleeting moment, I look to Serun and his twisted smile before I snap my focus back to the bookshelf.

There’s a music box in the middle row, holding its own space. I gently cup my hands around it, as if capturing a bird with a broken wing. Touching the intricate wood, moonflowers and vines with golden-flaked leaves spin a web around the lid. My thumbs press to the join, and as I push the lid up, faintly musical metal clinks and wires twang into a sweet sound.

“Shall we get started, then?” he says.

I release my hold on the music box, the lid snapping shut. Dust from the bookshelf stirs, and a sound reminiscent of two wires sliding against one another fades until I only hear the flickering flames stirring in the hearth.

“Where do you want me?”

Serun’s gaze moves to the leather couch across from him, then back to me. He’s a watcher. Eyes never leave me as I make my way to sit down. Hands twitching nervously on my lap, I run my palms across the stockings. Serun’s eyes follow, dilating when I reach higher up my thighs. He looks away quickly.