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Igaped—flat out gaped.
When I had asked Von to leave, I thought it would have been on foot. Not grab, poof, and here we were—miles away, in his room back at the mansion.
His room . . .
I had peeked my head through the door before, but I had never beenin it, and usually it was dark, which meant I couldn’t see much. But now, courtesy of the soft light that shone through the windows, I could see everything.
Judging by its ridiculous, sprawling size, his room was the master suite. From floor to ceiling to everything in between, all of it was black, with the lightest doses of dark, rich golds. The furniture was larger, bulkier, like it was crafted especially for him, for his size.
Directly to my right, a canopy bed crafted from a dark wood was wrapped in black silk, a large chest at the foot of it. To my left, two leather chairs sat beside the bay window and down from them sat an incredibly solid-looking desk, its top littered with papers and various books. Behind the desk was a private library, the shelves reaching to the ceiling. There was no ladder to reach the top shelves, and I wondered how one would get those books down, but knowing Von, he could probably just flick a finger and they would float down to him.
Speaking of Von and his mysterious abilities . . .
“How did you do that? How did we just poof here?” I asked, my palms against his chest, his arm hooked around my waist. “Is it part of your Wind Curse?”
“Something like that,” he answered with a sinfully handsome grin. Thick black lashes naturally rimmed with kohl emphasized his midnight orbs as they lowered, snagging on my lips before he slowly pulled away.
I watched his steady fingers work as he unbuckled the black straps that secured his chest plate. While he did this, he walked over to the large, wooden chest painted with a dark stain and inlayed with gold strips of metal. When he stood in front of it, the lid spontaneously opened, but I scented no magic in the air.
“So, you two know each other,” I said, more to myself than him, eyeing the chest where he stored his fighting leathers. “Why did he call you Blood King?”
“There are a variety of reasons I have been given that name.” He folded the leather straps against the shining chest plate and set it inside the chest. “The main reason is because of who I become when I am on the battlefield.”
I swallowed that bit of information. “Have you fought against Arkyn? In battle?”
“I have,” Von replied as he gently tossed the fur into the chest. “He was lucky to walk away after.”
There was no ego-stroking in his words. He was simply stating a fact. Arkyn served the king, a direct enemy of the Cursed rebels. Why would Von . . . My eyes shifted from the floor to him. “Why didn’t you kill him?”
Von turned, obsidian eyes meeting mine. “I would have, if it weren’t for a deal I made.”
“A deal? What deal?”
Von began rolling up his sleeve. “I was in a position to take his life, but I spared it and made a deal instead.” He rolled his forearm, and my gaze lowered to the golden spear trapped between lush, feminine lips.
“What did you get in return?” I asked, tempted to reach out, to touch it, to trace it.
Von grinned, the wicked twist of his lips enough to drive me feral. “I receiveda lotmore than I bargained for.”
I couldn’t tell if I was turned on or jealous by the inclination in his words. The lips made me think of a kiss, but if he got more than he bargained for. . .
“Are you telling me you got laid in return?” I asked bluntly, warring between jealousy and my own arousal. Knowing full well that Von only had an appetite for women, I wondered what kind of woman would barter for Arkyn’s life.
But my thoughts were scattered when his gaze captured mine. That sinful smile spread. “Many, many, many times, Little Goddess.”
I sucked in a breath, an indecent heat rolling across my cheeks.
He chuckled softly, noting my reaction, before he turned back to the chest.
I watched him, my attention snagging on the way his tunic stretched across his broad shoulders, a slight ripple in the middle, emphasizing justhowstretched the fabric was. His muscular arms, corded with veins, contracted as he gathered his unbound hair and pulled it up into a topknot, exposing the one shaved side, a few strands falling out. He lolled his head back, glancing over his broad shoulder at me. “See something you like?”
I smirked coyly. “I see a few things.”
“Like?” He turned, his gait a slow prowl as he moved towards me, his movement reminding me of a hunter tracking a deer on silent, deadly feet, like he was trying not to scare me away before he stole the very life from me.
He stopped when our bodies were but a breath away.
“Your lips, for one,” I replied, my gaze drifting to that full, sensual mouth. Ever so kissable, with its demanding, claiming tongue.
