Page 61 of Vervain

“But…they spoke to me,” I murmur.

The shadow shrugs their shoulders.

“Interesting. What did they say?”

“Pir avacen,” I say, and Serun’s eyes narrow slightly. “I know it’s vegodian, but I never learned enough of the language to know what it means. Most words I use are those I saw in your memories, as well as what my mum said in front of me—like the magik I used earlier.” I nod once, firm. “Whenever there was no electricity, she would say, fink hon, and the light fed the candles. I’m not strong enough to do that. Mine just made my entire body glow.”

“You are fascinating.” Shadows slip over Serun’s body, and Penumbra fades, jumping back into my true shadow and making it my own again. “They cannot speak. Perhaps the voice was in your head.”

My brow twitches and my ear flicks. With another slow blink, I contemplate smothering him with a pillow, before turning around and making my way back up the stairs. He follows. And Serun’s presence is impossible to ignore. “Leave me be, nightwalker. If I wanted someone to doubt me, I’d have gone to Jax.”

His shadow grows until I am stepping on it. “Doubt? I am a little lost as to why you just looked at me as if you wanted to hold my dead heart in your hands. It is yours if you want it, but I’d at least like to know the reason first.”

I make it to the office door and spin around to face him. “Jax said the same thing to me about the creature in the air shaft. He tried to convince me it was all in my head. I saw what I saw. And here, I heard what I heard.”

Serun’s eyes crinkle, and then he is laughing deeply. I jump at the sound, caught off guard. He saunters towards me, broad muscles and a smirk I should be glaring at, but my heart skips a beat, and my breathing becomes shallow.

“Saya,” he sighs, light and filled to the brim with amusement. Serun raises his hand, only to hesitate when I cringe away. “You’re vegodian. Magik surrounds you. It would not surprise me if something were trying to communicate with you, but only you can hear it.”

Huh?

“You weren’t doubting me?”

“Never. I would believe anything you say, even if your words were laced with unyielding hate for me.”

My hands clench at my sides, and I look away, glaring at the vervain wallpaper. “You control us to keep yourselves from starving. You lie as quickly as I breathe when I am around you.” Heat burns my cheeks at the sudden admission, and my voice drops low. “Even now, in your presence, all I can think about is what you taste like.”

“My kamai…” He cups his hands on either side of my face, thumbs brushing along my cheekbones. “Stay with me in the Undercity after you revisit your home. I can protect you and your brother. He will like it here. It’s safe, and far away from the slayers.”

I step into him, my hands resting against his chest over his dead heart. There’s nothing there. No heartbeat to explore, no rise and fall of his chest. But the way his hands move tenderly on my face, the shimmer in those deep crimson eyes, and the way they lower to my mouth…This is more than want.

It’s a damn yearning—suffering at its finest.

I shouldn’t feel anything for someone without a heartbeat, but here I am, a breath away from our mouths colliding once more. From losing myself to temptation.

Serun touches my temple, smoothing the hair back and tucking it behind my ear. “You’re like a parasite in my bloodstream. I could remove you, but I am fond of the way it hurts.” His hand brushes down my jaw, across the veins thickening along the nape of my neck, and rests on my moonflower tattoo. “Oh, how I crave you. To see you devoured by shadow.”

I tilt my head up, our noses brushing when I force him to follow. “For something dead, you talk too damn much, nightwalker.”

His mouth curves into a smirk against my lips. “Look at you, Saya Claymore, so mighty when we both know where you want this mouth buried.”

A tingling sensation stirs between my legs, swelling with arousal.

“Goodnight, kamai…” Serun steps away, and I am left against the door, heated and flushed.

Temptation fades with every heavy breath, becoming distance.

Serun is calculating. He wants me to admit that I am wholly his before he allows himself to indulge, while I want him on his knees, crawling to me.

I click my tongue and mutter, “Goodnight, nightwalker.”

He gives a crooked smile before I turn and enter the office. He doesn’t follow, but I glimpse back at him. Serun is leaning against the doorframe, arms raised high and a wicked grin on his face as he suffocates the space.

“Goodnight, Saya.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

THAUMATURGY