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A new realization struck, and he wanted to punch a wall. She attempted to deny him, preferring to suffer rather than accept his blood.
Sadness swept over him, pursued by an incredible sense of loss. But let her go? No. Never. This harpy-oracle would drink his blood, one way or another.
He scraped a claw over his wrist and pressed the injured flesh to her lips. The head shaking, pushing and kicking intensified as she tried to dislodge him. Merciless, he held steady, his blood flowing into her mouth.
Any time he healed, he cut himself again and forced her to drink more. Each time, her strength increased.
“You will take what you need. Understand?” he intoned. “Why are you upset, anyway? I’m the one with a laundry list of grievances. Need I state the most obvious? Had you simply stayed put, you’d be just fine. Now, get better so you can explain how you’re right, and I’m wrong.”
Neeka ceased her struggles, but not her glare. She sank her claws into his flesh, now holding him in place, gulping faster and faster. Hoping to drain him? Good. Let her.
“Dude. Have you learnednothingabout harpies?” Taliyah asked behind him. “Leaving us vulnerable to our enemies is an unpardonable crime. Taunting us afterward is the nail in your jockstrap.”
“I know what I’m doing,” he told the General, ignoring a fresh pang of guilt. “Finally.”
The General’s previous claim echoed.Medicate my girl. You’re the only one who can.
Had someone fed the oracle blood and she’d vomited?
He pressed his tongue against his clamped teeth, his heart hammering. Possessiveness, yes, he felt it. Satisfaction, too.
Her bruises faded, and the cuts knitted together. A healthy glow returned to her skin.
When she bore no more injuries, she wrenched from him and popped to her feet. “How dare you! I didn’t give you permission to save my life,” she spat. Wet, ragged clothing hung from her newly healed form. “By the way, you aren’t my consort. I renounce you. Renounce you I say!”
He waited, on edge, accepting her venting. Five seconds passed. Ten. Twenty. Forty. No sign of sickness. He almost rubbed his hands together with glee. He was, in fact, Neeka’s consort. The warrior she needed above all others. The male she couldn’t live without. And there was nothing she could do about it. No amount of renouncing would change the truth.
“I am your consort.” His satisfaction spread, conquering new territory. “Your forever. And in the spirit of baring all, I’ve fed you my blood before. You were injured and sleeping and required healing.”
Her eyelids slitted. “Astra, what are you waiting for? This Underworld outlaw endangered the well-being of your queen’s favored assassin who isnota traitor. He deserves a lengthy stay in the dungeon. Alive. Mostly.”
Rathbone smirked. “Desperate to keep me close, are you?”
She hissed at him.
“You heard the woman,” Taliyah said, clapping her hands. “To the dungeon. Chop, chop.”
The Commander heaved a sigh. “Lock him up.”
For the time being, Rathbone wished to remain accessible to the oracle, in case she required another infusion of blood.
He kept as many mátia on her as possible as two males hauled him to his feet and led him away. He didn’t protest their actions, but he did maneuver to turn, forcing the males to drag him backward.
She displayed cold disdain as she witnessed his departure, her head high and her shoulders squared.
“I understand your anger, carrot,” he told her. “That’s why I’m giving you twenty-four hours to visit me. Then I’ll come to you. I can’t promise I’ll leave survivors.”
Before he snaked around a corner, he thought he detected excitement in her eyes.
“You won’t be going anywhere,” Azar assured him. “When the Astra lock you up, you stay locked up.”
“Ah, but you’ve never caged the King of Agonies. Trust me. When I want out, I’ll get out.” One way or another. Nothing would keep him from Neeka.
Nothing.
No, no, no! Rathbone couldn’t be Neeka’s consort. But he was. But he shouldn’t be. But he was.
He wasn’t someone she’d found in the flames. Unless her father’s prophecy referred to the heat of adversity rather than actual fire. Or he’d lied about what he’d seen.
