Page 29 of Facade

Sweat beaded on my brow, as if the phantom flames were producing actual heat.

The skur leaned its head back, sniffing. I held my breath and scanned the area for some kind of weapon—there was nothing. Air hissed past my teeth as I tried to hold in my cry.

Its head snapped in my direction—bright orange eyes locked on me. It screamed, the sound spearing into my eardrums. I clamped my hands over my ears and stumbled back.

It sprinted right for me.

“No!” I tripped, falling flat on my ass as I scrambled to get away—

A male came out of nowhere, putting himself between the skur and me. He didn’t even have a sword—just a dagger and his bare hands. I didn’t recognize him; he wasn’t one of the knights traveling with us. White hair on a male that looked to be not much older than me would have been impossible to forget.

The skur didn’t break its stride as it ran. With his dagger angled, the male crouched low, turning enough that I could see his electric blue eyes lit like torches in the dark.

The skur sprang, teeth snapping. The stranger jumped out of the way, then twisted, slamming the dagger straight into the back of the monster’s head. The skur still growled and moved, black ichor dripping down its neck, teeth gnashing as it moved for the male once more.

I pushed myself up, gaze locked on the stranger as his hand shot out, wrapping around the skur’s neck, holding it at bay, easily.

Growling low and vicious, the male jerked the skur to his body and yanked his dagger from the head with his other hand. The skur slipped from his grasp—

A gasp slipped free of my lips, and the stranger’s attention latched onto me.

“Watch out!” I shouted, my voice cracking as the skur charged.

The stranger whipped around, but not before the skur’s claws caught him in the forearm, shredding through the fabric, slicing skin.

My hands raked through my hair, and I paced while he ignored the injury and hurled himself on the skur, slamming the thing to the ground.

The monster struggled beneath the male’s weight, bucking and thrashing. Silver glinted in the moonlight, and then the dagger was buried in the skur’s chest. A horrible hissing shriek tore from its throat, but was abruptly cut off when the stranger dropped his head, a low snarl tearing free as his fangs locked onto the skur’s jugular, and he ripped its damn throat out.

Ice flooded my veins to the extent I hardly noticed the incessant heat emanating once more from my ink.

A flick of his head, and the mangled jugular landed next to him with a wet thump. Revulsion curdled inside me as my gaze flicked to the bloody heap.

The skur didn’t move again.

The male exhaled roughly as he stood, cleaned off his dagger, and exposed an abdomen carved from granite, as he wiped his face.

It took effort to force my eyes off him, but it wasn’t safe. He wasn’t safe, despite his rescue. I turned, tiptoeing back to the safety of the—

“It’s intriguing that you’re out here, risking your life to watch the fight instead of hiding behind stone walls and iron-locked doors as most females would.”

I snapped around, pulse hammering.

“Especially in that scrap of clothing. One of your companions might make a costly mistake with so much… exposed. Such a distraction.”

The male leaned against the pillar—relaxed, but in that deliberate way predators rest before they strike. The air around him changed, tightening and electrifying, as if he drew the surrounding energy in with his presence alone. Even the clouds disappeared—giving the impression that the moon and stars yearned to be closer to him.

He was devastating in a way that wasn’t pretty or clean like Aiden—but ruggedly beautiful and tall, built like he could break the world in half. Yet as he pushed off that pillar, he moved with a lazy ease. His black clothing clung to him, stark against the white waves of hair partially pulled back and tied with a leather strap. Even the leftover gore that stained his chin and throat added to his allure.

When he lifted his eyes, a silver glow threaded through the electric blue beneath dark lashes, bright enough to steal my breath. His gaze dragged over me—slow, assessing. Intimate in a way that made heat and chills clash beneath my skin.

Leather, cedar, and mint carried on the breeze, sinking into me. My toes curled in my slippers. Something wrong yet intoxicating coiled through me in his presence. A warning pulsed in the air, telling me I should fear him.

But I didn’t fear him.

I feared whatever was deep inside me, urging me to move closer.

“See something you like?” he quipped.