AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I let the memories flicker through my head.
Ancient blue eyes upon me as he approaches. How glorious he is! His smile is like sunshine, and when he touches my cheek I want to melt. He holds me close to his side and strokes my hair. I have no fears here.
“She worshipped him,” I said with a soft sigh.
Kehlirik tilted his head, seemed to consider. “Yes, worship. A good choice of word.”
“Poor thing,” I murmured. So young. Barely old enough to know herself. How could she not adore Rhyzkahl when he extended affection to her? Was this how Rhyzkahl felt about me?
Kehlirik shifted his wings. “She was content.”
Could she even conceive of having anything else? I wondered about Giovanni. Maybe in the end she found something else, though since she died so young, it never had a chance to truly blossom.
Sighing, I pulled my hand from the stone. “What about Gio—”
Giovanni’s face swam before me, close, pale, and drawn, clearer than memory, more clouded than reality. I couldn’t hear him, but his lips formed my name—her name. The discordant whine of a failing ritual enveloped me, setting my teeth on edge, and an instant later was gone. Agony flooded my chest, tearing at me, expanding until there was nothing but pain and silence. Giovanni’s face before me, silently saying Elinor over and over. Pain. Elinor, Elinor, Elinor. Pain. Elinor, Elinor. Giovanni.
Shuddering, I sucked breath through my teeth and worked to push away the overwhelming memory that threatened to unbalance me. These are not my memories, I fiercely reminded myself. I can control this.
Mzatal’s advice came back to me, so I drew a deep breath and mentally traced the stupid pygah. Slowly, the disturbing memory retreated back to its lair. It felt different from the other Elinor memories—more isolated, more nightmarish. I lifted my head to see Kehlirik watching me carefully.
I gave him the steadiest smile I could manage. “I’m okay. It was just a strong memory.”
He let out a snort and nodded as if satisfied that I unmired myself, then flew up to a shoulder of rock overlooking the ruins.
The two faas abruptly chittered and went still as stone, including their tails. I’d never, ever, seen a faas still. Ever. A heartbeat later they both darted off and through the rocks. I blinked in surprise, about to turn and head back down the hill when I felt it: a lord’s aura. And not Rhyzkahl’s, I realized with dismay. This aura was cold. No, not just cold. Cold. As. Fuck.
Shit. I so did not want to deal with any lord right now, especially one that even the faas would hide from. What the hell was that all about? But I couldn’t see any other way down the hill, and I wasn’t small and agile like the faas who’d apparently ducked and hid behind some of the rocks. I finally settled for clambering on a boulder that was partially tucked behind a section of the ruins. Maybe this lord was simply coming up here to do one of those wish-things, and would then leave without bothering to look around. Maybe if I stayed super still he wouldn’t notice me.
And maybe I’ll sprout wings and fly away, I thought with a scowl. I scuttled back into the shadow and as out of sight as I could get.
I breathed as shallowly as possible, listening to the fall of his footsteps on the stone and peering through a gap in the columns. Blond and androgynous, he sauntered into the center of the ruins, then lifted his head, nostrils flaring as though scenting.
He turned to look directly at me. Fuck.
Primal instinct screamed at me to run, but it was all I could do right now to breathe, much less move.
His eyes narrowed. “Come,” he said, voice cold and imperiously commanding.
Gulping back the unreasoning terror, I silently cursed. If I refused there was no telling what he’d do. I climbed down and approached, though I took my damn sweet time doing so. My eyes met his, but I quickly yanked my gaze away. Beautiful. A shocking amethyst color that reminded me of the syraza. But I didn’t like what was behind those eyes, didn’t want to see any more of it. The Symbol Man might have been a ruthless serial killer, but he was a puppy compared to this dude.
I stopped about ten feet away. A smile played on the lord’s lips.
“Come,” he repeated, indicating a spot directly in front of him.
My skin crawled as I moved forward. His aura flowed over me in an oily wave, sending a shudder of nameless horror through me. It was like being near the creepiest person I’d ever known times a thousand. His lips parted slightly, which only served to increase the ick-factor. A shiver raced over my skin, and I struggled to summon anger instead of the mewling terror that wanted to come out.
He stepped closer so that he was barely a foot in front of me, inhaling deeply as his aura surrounded me, viscous and dark. Slowly he moved around me. My breaths became shallow, and I clenched my hands into fists to keep them from shaking. He stopped behind me, stayed there while I gritted my teeth and fought back a shiver.
The lord took hold of the scarf, wound it back around my throat. He held both ends of it while he stood behind me. He didn’t pull, but I knew he wanted me to understand that he could, that he was in control. I swallowed hard, throat moving against the fabric. He gave a light tug, shifting it tighter though nowhere near to the point of choking me. Didn’t matter. Totally had me freaked out. My instincts screamed at me to run, but I knew he would enjoy such a chase, knew that it would end badly for me.
A low whimper escaped me as he exerted slow pressure on the scarf to pull me back against him. He inhaled, mouth close to my ear.
“I know your scent, baztakh,” he murmured, voice resonant with a promise of pain, and terror, and mind-fucking torment.
I squeezed my eyes shut as I sought to tap my anger. He was doing this solely to scare me. And yeah, he was doing a damn good job of it, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t also piss me off. Taking a deep breath, I focused on the peace and calm of the grove.
Still at my back, he released the scarf and put his hands on my shoulders. The way he slid them down my arms almost made me wish it was a sexual move instead of the unknown that it was.
