Chapter 11

KNOT

I satat the bar of The Sweet Siren Tavern, sipping a glass of wine as I waited for Natalee to come downstairs. It wasn’t crowded yet this early in the evening, though the miners who were present kept shooting me curious glances. I recognized a few of them from last night, and I supposed they probably thought it odd that a former priest had bid a whopping fifty gold pieces on a siren.

I frowned as I thought about Natalee’s rejection of my marriage proposal. She’d wanted to accept. I could sense it. But she’d refused out of some misguided idea that I was meant to orate in the temple and her reputation would ruin mine.

How could I convince her to accept me?

How could I make her see that I didn’t give a fuck what the residents of Faircross thought of me? I would leave this place tomorrow if it meant I could take Natalee with me and keep her as mine forever. My sweet wife.

She absolutely didn’t belong here, and I planned to continue reserving her nights in perpetuity. Even if it took years for her to accept my proposal, I would keep coming back. Again and again.

Part of me wanted to kidnap her. To sneak into her room, toss her over my shoulder, and scale down the side of the building. I could take her to my cabin and hold her there as my captive until she came to her senses.

A growl rumbled from my throat.

Fucking starfires. No, I couldn’t do that. She might grow to hate me if I took such a bold action, if I took her away from The Sweet Siren against her will, and I didn’t think I could bear for her to despise me.

Raised voices near the entrance of the tavern drew my attention, and I bolted out of my seat when I spotted Mr. Foxthorne arguing with Trevonn as the despicable human male tried to walk past the huge minotaur guard. I approached the scene, my fury growing.

“Priest Thazurok!” Mr. Foxthorne said when he noticed my approach. “Please tell this male I’m an upstanding gentleman. He seems to be under the impression I might pose a danger to the sirens.” The old man snorted and shook his head.

“You aren’t allowed to set foot in The Sweet Siren ever again,” Trevonn said as he gave the human male a swift push toward the street. “Madame Sage’s orders. You’ve been banned, and I know that the madame doesn’t ban males for no good reason.”

“I will walk this male home,” I told Trevonn, the prospect of seeking vengeance against Natalee’s attacker too good to resist. My blood hummed with rage as I looked at the offending male.

“Walk me home? But I’m planning to spend the evening with a siren. How dare you turn me away!”

The old man made to barge past Trevonn, but I stepped around the minotaur and placed a firm hand on Mr. Foxthorne’s shoulder. My grip was hard enough to cause the human male’s face to twist with pain. He tried to pull away, but I tightened my grip, exchanged a look with a smirking Trevonn, and proceeded to roughly drag Mr. Foxthorne down the street.

“I demand to know the meaning of this! Unhand me, you big orc scoundrel! I thought you were a priest, a peaceable soul. A male of the gods. How can you treat me like this?” Mr. Foxthorne continued trying to escape, but I grasped his arm and dragged him behind an abandoned building on the edge of town.

I slammed the vile male against the building, my hand gripping his throat so hard it caused his eyes to bulge. “You attacked Mrs. Natalee Oakbees,” I said. “You scared her, and you tried to hurt her.” I loosened my grip on his throat to allow him to speak, though I fully expected him to deny the accusation.

“Lies!” he said. “The tart is lying. She’s a siren. How could you possibly believe a word she says? She wanted me. She invited me to her room. I swear it on the gods!”

A dark chuckle escaped me. “You swear it on the gods?” I squeezed his throat again, then stepped back and slammed his body into the building.

The human male dropped to the ground and tried to curl into himself, but before he could shield his soft parts, I landed a hard kick to his stomach, causing him to thrash and wheeze. His face was contorted with terror and pain, and a thrill rushed through me, an emotion I supposed was bloodlust. I leaned into the feeling and kicked Mr. Foxthorne over and over, until I sensed he was on the brink of passing out.

I kneeled and grasped his collar, hauling him up. I put my face in his and snarled, “If you ever go near Mrs. Natalee Oakbees again, I will kill you, and I will do so slowly. I will savor your death.” As a former priest, a peaceable male, I could barely fathom the words I was saying. But I meant it. If he dared to even look at Natalee, I would end him. “Do you understand?” I gave him a harsh shake, and blood trickled from his nose.

“I-I understand. I-I won’t go near her again. I pr-promise. Please no more. Please have mercy.” He started sobbing pitifully, and I tossed him to the ground. What a pathetic, immoral creature.

I gave him one last kick, hitting him directly on the nose and no doubt breaking it, and then I spun on my heel and marched back to The Sweet Siren, eager to see Natalee. Eager to take her in my arms and kiss her. Eager to mount her and pound into her quim until she cried out in pleasure, and I spilled my seed in her tight depths.

Gods, I would fuck her into oblivion tonight.

When I reached the tavern, Trevonn shot me an appreciative look and gestured for me to enter. “Did you make him bleed?” the guard asked as I stepped inside the tavern.

“Yes, and I doubt he’ll be back,” I said with a quick nod as I scanned the room for Natalee. There. She was standing behind the bar next to Floura. Our eyes met and a surge of desire rushed through me. My cock went instantly hard.

I was so focused on Natalee that I didn’t hear Trevonn’s response. I headed toward the bar, and the pretty little human walked around to greet me. Her demeanor was hesitant. Adorably shy. Her cheeks became flushed, and she started to speak, only to stammer a few times.

I grasped her hands and pulled her close. Leaning down, I pressed my face into her hair and took a deep inhale, savoring her floral scent.

“A few of the patrons said you’d left. That you, um, walked Mr. Foxthorne home after he tried to enter The Sweet Siren and Trevonn stopped him.” She stepped back and shot me a questioning look. “What happened?” She looked me over carefully, as though searching for bruises or blood or any sign of dishevelment that indicated I’d just been in a fight. Thankfully, none of the vile male’s blood had gotten on my clothing.

“Oh, that.” I gave her a comforting smile, not wanting her to worry. “Well, I said I would walk Mr. Foxthorne home, but I’m afraid he met with an accident on the way, and we never quite reached his abode. Such a pity.”

Her eyes went wide. “Oh my gods. Did you… kill him?” she asked in a horrified whisper.

“He’ll live,” I assured her, “but he’ll bear his injuries for a while.” I pulled her closer and pressed a kiss to her forehead, not caring that we were likely being watched by those who were naturally curious about our relationship. I met her eyes. “I promise he’ll never hurt you again, my sweet female. You needn’t fear him or any other male in this town. I vow that I’ll protect you, always.”

She cast a cautious glance around, but no one was standing close enough to overhear our conversation, especially above the sound of the piano. “Are you about to propose marriage again, Knot? Because while I appreciate you defending me, I-I still can’t accept. We are too different, you and I, and it would never work.”

“We aren’t too different, Natalee. You simply think we must remain bound by the titles that have been given to us. Priest.” I snorted. “Former priest. Siren. But it doesn’t matter to me, and it shouldn’t matter to you. I believe we are meant to be together.”

“You’re wrong, Knot,” she said in a voice so torn with anguish that it nearly brought tears to my eyes.

I scooped her up in my arms and headed for the stairs. No one moved to stop me. Because I’d reserved her. Because I had reserved all her nights going forward. She might work in a brothel, but I was the only male with whom she would join.

“You’re mine, Natalee,” I told her in a commanding tone, “and I will keep coming back here, night after night, until you come to your senses and agree to become my wife.”