Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

I truly had never felt such need before. I ached as I lifted my hand—

Then it struck me.

The why behind such need.

Hyhborn exuded sensuality, in their voices and in their touch, and that carnal lushness spilled into the air around them, influencing even the most pious of lowborn to be a little bit wicked. It was why the upcoming Feasts became exactly what I’d said to Naomi earlier— a decadent indulgence in all things carnal.

That had to be the cause of my reaction to him.

That and the fact that he was, well, more than just pleasant to look upon, and we both were completely nude.

My heart beat so fast I thought it might actually give out on me as my gaze lowered, falling to the wound on his chest.

The sight of the nearly healed wound brought forth a semblance of common sense.

Sucking in a sharp breath, I took a step back. His hand slipped from my jaw, leaving a swirl of tingles behind.

“I need to dry off. Excuse me.” I left the stall, quickly grabbing one of the towels. I wrapped it around me, then gathered up my clothing and quickly left the bathing chamber.

Water dripped from me as I entered the unfamiliar bedchamber. I dried off hastily, my mind a mess as I went to the wardrobe. I searched until I found a suitable shirt. There was no way I could put that nightgown back on. I was going to have to burn it. Maybe the cloak too— something I would’ve never considered during my time before Archwood. Bloody. Soiled. It hadn’t mattered. Clothing had simply been clothing.

The shirt I pulled out was soft and worn, reaching my knees. It was completely inappropriate to be dressed as such, but it was shapeless and provided the same amount of coverage as the nightgown I had worn and half of my gowns. And besides, I had just been completely nude.

I just . . . just felt different.

As did the near-raw reaction to him— my want of him. It was entirely too animalistic, too primal.

Rooting around in the wardrobe, I found a pair of clean breeches that looked like they could fit the Lord. I pulled them out and another shirt, this one white, draping both over the corner of the bed.

Hearing the water turn off, I tugged the loose strands of hair free from the collar of the shirt. Making my way to the small table, I turned on the lamp and then poured a glass of water for him and one for myself. I downed the liquid, but it was of no help in calming my heart or nerves. I sat on the edge of the bed, thinking I probably should’ve taken the time to bolt.

I had no idea what time it was, but the city streets outside the home were quiet. Morning must be only hours away. I touched the bridge of my nose and winced at the flare of dull pain. How was I going to explain this?

Hearing the bathing chamber open, I lowered my hand to my lap. “There is water on the table,” I told him. “I poured you a glass and found you some clothing that might fit.”

“Appreciated.”

I peeked up then, my gaze traveling over the corded muscles of his back as he walked toward the cupboard. He wore nothing more than the towel wrapped around his hips, and that was, well, simply indecent in the most delicious way I certainly wasn’t acknowledging.

The Lord was silent as he drank the water, filled a third glass, and finished that off too. That was good— him drinking so much water. I watched him place the glass on the table, then turn for the clothing. He picked up the black breeches.

“These will do,” he said.

“Good.”

He undid the towel, and I quickly looked away, face warming despite all that I’d said. When I was sure he was at least partially clothed, I glanced over to find that he had donned the breeches. They were loose at his waist, hanging low on his hips.

I blinked in surprise. The wounds on his arms and in his chest appeared to be almost gone. I looked up at his face. The faint traces of bruises that had remained while he’d been in the shower were completely gone. A tingling sensation swept through me as I took in the Lord’s high, angled cheekbones and the straight, proud nose. His jaw cut a hard, carved line, and his mouth was wide and lush. There was a faint, almost feline quality to his features now visible without the bruising. It was like looking at a work of art that one feared to appreciate because the beauty was unsettling.

“Your wounds,” I managed.

“They’re healing,” he answered. His hair was slicked back from his face. “Thanks to you.”

There was an unsteady flutter in my chest. “I didn’t do much.”

He eyed me for a moment. “Do you know why Hyhborn have such a sensual effect on mortals?”

His question caught me off guard, and it took me a moment to answer. “I know some . . . things about what helps strengthen a Hyhborn.”

One side of his lips curved up. “And do these things you know involve pleasure?”

“I know that Hyhborn . . .” I struggled to find an accurate word to describe what I’d heard.

The Lord, however, did not. “Feed?”

I nodded, feeling my skin warm a bit. “I’m not sure how I’ve been of aid to you in that area.”

“Na’laa,” he murmured, chuckling. “You found great pleasure in aiding me in the shower. Not that you are unaware of that.”

Snapping my mouth shut, I looked away. I wasn’t unaware of that. I’d just forgotten in the moment that my pleasure in the simple act of touching him was something that could help him.

“We don’t just feed on the pleasure of others,” he added after a moment. “We also feed on our own pleasure. I too enjoyed the shower.”

I peeked at him, for some idiotic reason pleased that he’d enjoyed it.

“But you did even more than you realize,” he continued. “You saved lives tonight.”

Lives? Namely his. Uncomfortable with that idea and even more that I was disquieted by that fact, I squirmed. “You don’t know. You could’ve escaped.”

“Oh, I would’ve definitely escaped once I came to,” he said. “My purpose for being here wouldn’t matter. I would’ve leveled half this town. I would’ve left nothing but ash and ruin behind.”

My chest clenched. “You . . . you would’ve done that?”

“Yes. I wouldn’t have been pleased with what I’d done. I take no joy in the killing of innocents, but my guilt wouldn’t have undone my actions or made up for them, now would it have?”

“No,” I whispered, unsettled by what he was sharing— by how close Archwood had come to destruction.

“Interesting.”

“What?” I tensed as he started toward the bed.

“This whole time, you haven’t been afraid of me. You’re still not.” His head inclined to the constant movement of my fingers, opening and closing in my lap. “But you’re nervous. Unless you’re normally this fidgety?”

I bit down on my lip, stopping myself from immediately denying it. “I am normally this fidgety,” I admitted. “And you do make me nervous. If you said there was no reason to be, I’d still feel that way.”

“But I wouldn’t tell you that,” he said. “You should always be nervous around one like myself.”

“Oh,” I whispered. “That’s . . . that’s reassuring.”

The Hyhborn lord smiled. There was this razor-sharp, almost predatory edge to it. “But you don’t have to fear me. There is a difference between the two.”

“How would you know if I’m nervous or afraid?”

“It’s in the quickening of your breath and your heart.”

My brows lifted. “I . . . I didn’t know you could hear that?”

“It’s not so much hearing, but if we’re focused on an individual, tuned in to their essence, we can. It’s how we can feed.” A hint of smile briefly appeared. “And I’m focused on you enough that I can tell exactly what causes that hitch in your breath— when it’s not fear that causes a change in your breathing and when it’s pleasure.” A pause. “Arousal.”

I inhaled sharply. “I’m not— ”

“Going to lie to me? Because I’d know better.”

“I don’t think you do,” I countered as I scooted back, the shirt snagging around my thighs.

“But please do lie. It amuses me.”

I frowned at him, thinking that was odd.

He planted a knee on the bed. Our gazes locked, and the urge to ask if he recognized me hit hard. He obviously hadn’t. If so, he would’ve surely said something, but for some ridiculous, pointless reason I wanted to know if he even remembered.

“Do you— ” Something stopped me. I wasn’t sure what it was. Why would it matter if he did? Or if I told him that we’d met before?

Then it struck me.

It was my intuition. The heightened level of instinct. There had to be a reason for that, especially since my intuition rarely worked to my benefit. My intuition was stopping me. Why, I didn’t know, but my heart turned over heavily.

“Are you all right?” the Lord asked.

“Yeah. Yes.” I cleared my throat. “I’m just tired. It’s been a strange night.”

He stared at me for a moment. “That it has.”

The nervousness he sensed earlier returned. “We should be leaving before— ”

“I know,” he said, and then the Lord moved so unbelievably fast. He was above me before I took another breath.

His mere presence forced me onto my back. Our bodies didn’t touch, but he was caging me, his large frame blocking out the quarters— the entire realm— until it was only him. Only us. He brought his fingertips to my cheek. My entire body jerked at the touch. The blue swirled completely into the green of his eyes as he drew his fingers down my cheek, catching a strand of hair. He tucked it back, his gentleness shocking.

“You’re not afraid of me now,” he noted.

“No.” I sucked in a small breath as the pads of his fingers made another pass over my bottom lip. “Are you trying to make me afraid?”

“I’m not sure.”

A shiver of apprehension tinged with something I couldn’t acknowledge skated over my skin.

His gaze swept over my face and then lower, across my throat. “I know you said you were fine earlier, but in a few hours, the skin beneath your eyes and nose will darken, joining the bruises I left upon your throat. Let me change that.”

I stared at him. “You . . . you can do that?”

“There are many things I can do.” That half grin returned as my eyes narrowed. “Let me do this for you.”

Not having to worry about how I would explain the bruises would be a relief, but it was more curiosity than anything. I wasn’t sure how he could do this.

“You need to close your eyes,” he said.

“Really?”

“Really.” The starbursts in his pupils brightened.

Holding his stare for several moments, I nodded and then did as he requested. I closed my eyes. A heartbeat passed, then another, and nothing happened. I started to open my eyes but stopped. The fingers along the curve of my jaw . . . warmed. I felt his breath on my chin. Against my parted lips. I didn’t take more than a shallow, quick breath then. His breath moved up, and another tense second passed. Then I felt the soft press of his . . . his lips against the bridge of my nose. My entire body jerked.

“Stay still,” he ordered, his breath coasting over my cheek.

I tried to, but a tremor started, coursing through me. His mouth lifted. There was nothing . . . and then something— a strange tingling warmth. His breath played over the side of my throat and his lips followed. He kissed just below the wildly beating pulse. I sucked in a stuttered gasp as his hair grazed my chin, then his lips pressed against the other side. The shivery warmth blossomed to life there, and in a few moments, the aches I had forced to the back of my mind faded.

But the Lord didn’t move away.

His head remained bent, his lips pressed so softly against my throat, and a wholly different kind of warmth came alive once more, sending an aching pulse deep. This . . . this felt far more dangerous than being in the shower stall with him, but then his lips lifted from my skin. He drew back, and I wanted to feel immense relief. I should.

I didn’t.

Slowly, I opened my eyes. He remained above me, eyes half closed, and I thought . . . I thought I saw a faint golden glow around him, like I had thought I’d seen in the shower. Was it the lamplight? I didn’t think so. “Your kisses . . .” My voice sounded far too reedy. I cleared my throat. “Your kisses heal?”

“Some injuries.” The right side of his lips quirked. “Sometimes.”

I had the distinct impression he wasn’t being all that truthful. “I’m not sure if you realize this or not, but I think you’re kind of glowing.”

“It happens.”

“When . . . you’re feeding?” I guessed.

“Yes.”

I glanced down. My eyes went wide. “The wound on your chest is closed.” I glanced at his arms. Shiny, pink skin had appeared where the wounds had been in his biceps.

His fingers danced along the neckline of my borrowed shirt, while my own fingers were pressed flat against the bed, behaving themselves. They practically itched with the urge to touch him.

And why couldn’t I?

Well, there were a lot of reasons, likely ones I hadn’t even thought of yet, but I lifted a hand. Out of habit, I hesitated before placing my palm against his chest.

The Lord . . . he purred.

Skin warming, I drew my fingers over the carved slabs of hard muscle. Never could I become accustomed to the feel of a Hyhborn’s skin.

Never would I become used to being able to touch someone so easily.

He held still above me as I drew my hand down his chest, lips parted. I knew this couldn’t continue. We needed to get out of here. I needed to return to the manor, but . . . but my fingers drifted down, over the tightly packed muscle of his abdomen. I reached the loose band of his breeches. The tips of my fingers brushed over a hard, rounded—

A dark, shadowy sound rumbled from the Lord as he caught my wrist, stopping my exploration. “As much as I’d enjoy allowing you to continue, I fear we don’t have time for that.”

My gaze lifted. He was right. My fingers curled inward. “I know.”

He dipped his head as he lifted my hand to his mouth. I inhaled softly as he pressed a kiss to the center of my palm. Our gazes locked once more. The blue had covered all the other colors, becoming an intense shade of sapphire.

Then he was gone from above me, standing several feet away. His head cut sharply toward the window.

“Stay here,” he said softly.

Swallowing hard, I sat up, feeling dizzy doing so. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes.” His attention shifted back to me, the greens and brown becoming visible once more. “A . . . a friend has arrived.”

Frowning, I strained to hear anything that could’ve alerted him to such a presence, but heard nothing.

“I’ll be right back.”

I blinked, and the Lord was gone yet again. Stunned by how fast he moved, I rose on shaky legs. I didn’t let myself think about anything as I went into the bathing chamber to gather my ruined clothing. After toeing on my boots, I stepped into the bedchamber, waiting until the very last minute before I donned my cloak.

The Lord wasn’t gone that long; it was maybe a few more moments before I felt a stirring of air in the chamber. I turned, finding him standing in the doorway of the bedchamber. He held something black in his hands.

“Is your friend still here?” I asked.

The Lord nodded. “The horse tethered in the woods? Is it yours?”

I glanced at the lone window. “If it’s the one eating everything in sight, then yes.”

“She is.” There was a pause. “That is a fine horse.”

I nodded.

“I brought you this. It is a cloak— a clean one.”

“Oh, than— ” Remembering one of the bizarre customs surrounding the Hyhborn, I stopped myself from thanking him. Supposedly they felt it tainted their act or something. “That is kind of you.”

He said nothing as he came to me, taking my soiled clothing, dropping it on the bed. “This will need to be destroyed,” he said. “Hyhborn blood will not wash from the items.”

That was something else I hadn’t known.

“How far do you have to travel to return home?” he asked.

“Not that . . .” I trailed off as he draped the cloak over my shoulders. The backs of his hands grazed my chest as he drew the halves together. The material was heavier than what was worn this time of year, but it more than reached the floor, hiding my bare legs.

“How far?” he repeated, securing the clasps at my throat.

“Not a great distance.”

He eyed me. “Good.”

“And you?”

There was something hard about the Lord’s smile, and it was completely at odds with the gentleness of his touch. He brought his hand to my cheek. The tips of his fingers glided over my skin. “It’s safe for you to leave. You should do that and do so quickly.”

A shiver erupted along my spine. “What are you— ”

“You don’t want me to answer that.” He palmed my jaw, causing my breath to catch as he ran his thumb over my lower lip.

His gaze held mine for several more moments; then he dropped his hand and stepped to the side. I didn’t move, though, not for several moments, and it was hard to make myself do it. “Will you be okay?”

There was a faint softening to his features. “I will.”

“Okay.” I swallowed. “Goodbye then.”

The Lord said nothing.

I briefly closed my eyes, then forced myself to walk. I went for the door.

“Na’laa?”

I stopped as something . . . something like hope swelled inside me. Hope for what? I really couldn’t say as I looked over my shoulder at him.

The Lord stood with his back to me, shoulders a tense straight line. “Be careful.”