Page 54 of White Raven

Finally, I heard him huff, his steps withdrawing, taking him over to the bed.

My lids squeezed together, my jaw aching from clenching it so hard.

He rustled around for a few minutes, squeaking the wood bedframe, before a heavy exhale came from him, quieting down.

I didn’t move for a long time, listening for his breaths to even out before I had the courage to peek out. The room hummed with stillness, while muffled voices and laughter from the pub still seeped through the floorboards, feeling a world away from my situation.

Pushing back my hood, I glanced over at him. He lay on his back, his figure overwhelming the small bed. One arm was tucked under his head, the other over his eyes, the dusk light glowing upon him through the window.

Swallowing, I slowly sat up, my attention going to the door, my escape only a few steps away. Could I get out without waking him up? If he did, I could scream for help. Raise a ruckus until someone helped me, offer them a huge reward to get me home.

Gently, I rose to my feet, watching him for any twitch of movement. Edging to the door, I reached out, my heart pounding between my ribs, the taste of escape on my lips, hope dancing on my shoulders. Twisting the knob slowly, I anticipated the click of release. I had never heard him relock the door once he reentered.

I was a fool.

The latch stuck in place, the door not moving. My only way out was locked from the inside, the keyhole empty.

My head twisted back to him on the bed, somehow knowing he’d keep the key on him, stuffed deep in his trouser pocket.

Anger rose like a storm, waking the feral animal inside me, snapping its teeth. My attention zeroed in on the man in the bed. The cause for every horrible thing that had happened to me, the terror and grief I had carried since that night he took me.

I’d promised myself I would not miss my opportunity again. I craved his end. Yearned to hear him drowning in his own blood, while he watched me bathe in it. Eating flesh had turned me depraved, a monster hunting for another’s skin.

And I desired his.

The saddlebag rested on the nightstand next to him, a blade handle peeking out of the sack.

Fury moved me across the room without another thought, a growl crawling up from my gut as I grasped the dagger. Leaping on him, I sliced the tip of the blade into his skin under his chin and the scent of his blood, tangy and warm, flared my nostrils, blinding me to anything but his death. Somewhere in the back of my mind I registered he was only in his thin trousers, his tunic discarded at the end of the bed.

I pinned the blade to his jugular, his head tipping back, jaw tightening as I pushed in.

“Look who is the captive now,” I sneered. “I made the mistake of not killing you last time. I won’t make that mistake again.”

His black eyes flared, fastening onto mine, making me suddenly conscious of his hot, naked skin between my thighs, his defined abs flexing against me.

“The one who will come when I call?” I demanded, wanting him to feel the humiliation I did, the same degradation. “Say it. When I call you . . .”

He stared back at me, not responding.

“Let’s try this again.” I sliced the knife deeper, trails of blood slithering from his throat, soaking into the pillow underneath his head. The threat of death buzzed in the air, the intensity ravaging through me. I hungered for it. Longed for the thrill slipping over my skin like hot breath.

The nerve in his jaw convulsed. The feel of him hardening against me had me breathing through my nose. Heat pulsed between my legs, seeping through my undergarments rubbing against his stomach.

We both froze.

His pupils darkened, his nose flaring.

Everything shifted in a blink.

Tossing me on my back, he moved over me with lightning speed, a snarl surging his throat. Yanking the scythe out from under his pillow, he tipped the razor edge to my throat and cut through the button fastened around my neck. The cloak fell away, exposing more of my skin.

“Lesson one, kanin.” He snarled, relieving me of my knife. “If you want to kill someone, you kill them.”

Swallowing, I realized he had let me think I was in control. Had been pretending to be asleep. Playing with me. Seeing how far I would go before putting a stop to it.

The memory of how quickly his friend had sliced Sarina’s throat. There was no hesitation or question. She was dead before she even knew what happened.

“You don’t delay it or do this whole farce.” His legs straddled me. “That means you need to be sure you want them dead. Because once you decide. There is no going back.” He flattened himself and the blade into me, my throat bobbing against the metal. “You kill.”