Page 76 of Black Sea

Once he finished, he let go of my hair and calmly said, “Now untie mine.”

I was so frustrated that it took me significantly longer than it did for him, my heavy breathing nearly overshadowing the sound of water falling into the tub from the statues with ampoules. When I finally reached the last knot, my hands trembled so badly I gave up and, gnashing my teeth like a beast, forcefully broke the lace with a tug.

I quickly moved away from him and began removing my armor, armguards, greaves, and booties, tossing each piece against the wall or the marble bench, where the towels for drying us had already been placed. Finally, I stripped off my dirty tunic and, unconcerned about Amlach’s gaze on my naked body, stepped under the shower faucet and turned the knob. I welcomed the cold stream of water hitting my face, covered in blood, sand, and paint, then loosened my braid and threw the leather ribbon away.

I pressed my fists against the wall, with my knees slightly touching the stone bench leaning against it. After a moment, through the water that blurred my vision, I noticed Amlach approaching me.

“Nauriel, you must calm down,” he ordered me hoarsely.

Too furious to care about his nudity, I turned and yelled at him, “Because otherwise you jump on me like the animal you are?”

“Yes,” he hissed, eagerly invading my personal space. “So, collect yourself right now, if you don’t want your first time to be standing against this fucking wall.” And he struck a slap against it with such violence that the wet sound echoed through the room like a small explosion.

I looked at him from under my lashes, my face tense with anger, the water stinging my eyes. My hard nipples brushed against his chest with each inhale, causing my breathing to quicken. Similarly, his erection touched my belly, coaxing pulsing sensations in my vagina, so strong that suddenly the only thing I could think about was wrapping a leg around Amlach’s side and welcoming him inside me.

Standing up, as he had just said.

Against the wall.

All of him, all the way in.

Until I felt filled . . . complete.

He can never make you feel that way, you know it.

That thought hit me sharply, as incisive as a punch. Immediately after, I left Amlach alone in the shower and dove into the high tub. I held onto the edge, my head lolling against my chest, and allowed the warm water to restore me, even though the fresh wounds on my arms and legs burned tremendously.

When the water level rose a few inches, barely covering my breasts, I lifted my head with a sigh. “She wants me dead, Amlach,” I said gravely.

He immediately understood who I was talking about.

“Yes,” he confirmed in a stern tone, coming near me from behind. “I realized that too when not a single arrow from those damn archers on the moving towers grazed me.” He moved my hair to one side and began washing my back with his large, strong, and confident hands. “They were all for you,” he added grimly.

I wondered if Mistress Yrrek wanted to take me out mainly to assert her dominance over Roxior again and demonstrate her power to every Master of Rubra. Or . . . or if it was because of Amlach. With my body in the ground, she could purchase him from Roxior and keep him for herself.

Just thinking about it made my blood boil like magma. It made me want to persuade Amlach to cut her throat the next time he entered her bed.

That murderous desire, which felt completely foreign to me, was like a painful bucket of ice that put out the flames of my rage.

Suddenly teary-eyed, I turned to Amlach. “I don’t want to kill anymore,” I declared, an edge in my voice.

He tucked my hair behind my ears. “I know,” he replied softly, then started to clean my still-dirty face, gently rubbing the crusted blood.

I watched his focused expression for a long time, staring at the vertical wrinkle that formed between his furrowed brows. Unable to resist the need to touch him in return any longer, I began to wash the blood off his neck and arms, being careful around the fresh cuts.

“Roxior won’t keep his word, will he?” I asked, scowling. “Even if you finally find something against Yrrek tonight.”

“No, he won’t.” Amlach examined the laceration along the inside of my right biceps with a clinical eye. “I think he lied to us from the beginning. He’s a slaver, after all, and—”

“And he will never let us go.” I withdrew my arm, feeling a strange, slightly burning, tingling sensation, and leaned my back against the tub. “He will never let me go.”

Amlach frowned and gripped the marble edge with both hands, trapping me between his arms, his hairy legs touching mine underwater. “What do you mean?”

I swallowed, unable to take my eyes away from him. “I may be vulnerable as a human, but I’m still immortal.”

Amlach angrily took a deep breath, glancing over my head.

Unable to tolerate his look, I fixed my gaze on his chest. Without thinking, I ran my fingertips over the contours of his abs and continued, “Even if we survive these Games and future ones, eventually you’ll grow old, and I will be given a new companion. And another, then another, and another. My property will change hands from Master to Master, until I will no longer even remember my name.” Thick tears rolled down my cheekbones. “I don’t want this to be my life.” I lifted my eyes to meet Amlach’s and placed my palm on his cheek. “I would rather die in the arena in seven days, looking at a friendly face.”