Chapter 12

Twelve

I'd only ever seen Severs from a distance. Through thick trees, walking aimlessly in the forest, and only ever at night.

But this one was so close I could practically smell it—like rotting leaves and forest decay. Sweet, almost. Sickeningly pungent.

It was lurching toward us, its heavy feet crunching over branches that splintered like bone.

The Sever's skin was a pale gray, nearly translucent. Black veins spread underneath the flesh, like the veins of Lorik's wings. Dark horns were curled back from his head, one broken in half. The Sever didn't have any wings, but there seemed to be something protruding beneath its cloak where they may have once been. Cut?

It looked like Lorik. An Allavari-Kylorr male, only…a horrific version of one, as if it had been living in darkness, consumed by something unseen. It looked like its flesh was rotting away, its bones too sharp. I almost felt pity for the Sever, until it began to make a dull hiss in the back of its throat, its pace quickening toward us, scarred arm outstretched.

Peek pounced into the clearing, his fur standing up, a low growl rumbling from his chest. My braydus's eyes were pinned on the Sever, and he slowly stalked toward it.

"Peek, no!"

"Get inside the cottage, Marion," Lorik told me, maneuvering me around him so he was between the Sever and me. "Now."

"But Peek—"

"I'll take care of him. Go!"

I only hesitated for another moment before I darted away. There was some part of me that trusted Lorik. I wouldn't leave my braydus with him if I didn't, I realized.

When I made it to my cottage, I bolted the door and scurried to the chest I kept tucked underneath the counter. There was a bow and a quiver of wooden arrows inside. I was a fairly decent shot, my hands steady, though they were trembling now. I could still smell the Sever in my nostrils, churning my belly.

I went to the window, pushing the glass forward on its rusty hinges. I could hear horrible sounds in the darkness: the Sever's hiss that made the hairs on my arm stand on end, Peek's warbling growls, and the quick gust of wings. Lorik.

He was weaponless. I went back to the door, throwing it open.

"Lorik, I have—"

I stilled on the path. I hadn't made it even a few feet when I heard the sickening crunch. It happened so quickly. But I watched as Lorik made a quick twist of his hands around the Sever's neck, popped off its head like it was a doll's stuffed with feathers. The Sever's body slumped to the earth, and it lay still on the edge of the forest. The wet plop of its decapitated head joined it.

Lorik's sharp breath seemed to reach me, even from a distance away. His eyes were glowing in the darkness, like one of the glowflies' hives at midnight.

In the quiet, I watched as Peek investigated the remains, sniffing the cloak before he was satisfied, sitting at Lorik's feet. The quiver and the bow felt entirely too useless in my hands.

"Go back inside, Marion," came Lorik's voice. Soft and incredibly gentle for someone who had just decapitated a monstrous creature with his bare hands.

And it had been easy for him,I thought.

I approached, ignoring his words.

"You're still recovering, Lorik," I said slowly, eyeing the Sever on the ground, avoiding looking at its head that had rolled near Peek. I felt oddly…calm. Was I in shock?

Lorik crouched down by the Sever, shifting its cloak so that he took hold of its arm. He pulled back the fabric, exposing the wrist.

Scars.

No…brands.

There were symbols etched into its skin, and Lorik huffed out a breath looking at them before he tossed the arm back to the ground with more force than necessary.

"What…what are those?"

"Crimes," Lorik answered, standing. "Marion, go back inside. I need to get rid of the body before it draws others to the area."

"Others?" I rasped. "Other Severs?"

Lorik scoffed. "This isn't a Sever. Not anymore. Or maybe he is the truest Sever, at least according to the Allavari. Get back inside and take your braydus with you. I'll be back soon."

Without waiting for me to respond, Lorik gathered up the Sever's limp body and its head…and shot up into the sky, the powerful gust of his wings awe-inspiring.

He disappeared overhead, the only memory of the Sever was a line of dark blood on the forest floor, which I kicked some dirt and leaves over to erase it from view. The truest Sever? Or not a Sever at all? What had he meant by that?

Peek nudged up against my leg, his big, luminous eyes staring up at me. I looked to the sky again but didn't see any sign of Lorik. I looked around the clearing of my cottage, to the darkness of the Black Veil, which I'd never been truly frightened of before.

Now? There was an ominous feeling I couldn't help but shake. That Sever might draw others?

Hurrying back into the cottage, I made certain Peek was inside before I bolted the door. There was restless energy building in my gut. I'd been in a silent daze for most of the day, emotionally drained, and now this had happened. I paced the floor of my cottage, Peek watching me from the window sill where the glass was still open, as if he were standing guard.

It didn't take long until I heard the familiar gust of wings, until I heard a heavy weight land on the cobblestones outside my door.

"Marion," came his voice. Relief made me dizzy, and I rushed to the door, unlocking it, before Lorik stepped inside.

He smelled like the Sever, his chest smeared with its dark blood from when he'd carried it away. I didn't know what he'd done with the body. I didn't want to know, truthfully. Whatever he'd done, he'd done it quickly.

"Are you okay?" I rushed out, seeing a bloom of blood beneath the bandage at his shoulder. He'd torn the sutures.

"Fine," he said, tone gruff. "Are you?"

He was studying me carefully. Was he worried that I'd be frightened of him now? After what I'd seen him do?

My mind latched on to his wound. I looked at his blood-slicked chest.

"You should bathe," I told him, seeing a streak of the Sever's blood a little too close to the bandage's edge. I didn't want another infection taking root. "I'll…I'll draw a bath. And then I'll look at your shoulder."

"Marion."

"Let's get you clean, all right? You're bleeding. Then we can talk."

When I stepped into the washroom, I realized my hand was shaking when I turned the taps. The water would be cold this time of night.

"Did you want me to heat the stones in the hearth or—"

I sucked in a sharp breath when I turned, when I heard the gentle whoosh of his pants hit the floor.

"I'll do it," he told me, standing before me fully naked, and I held my breath, hoping my face wouldn't burn right up. He maneuvered around me, all endless, muscled flesh. I was used to his bare chest, but I wasn't prepared for his bare backside, rounded but dimpled with sharp muscles at the sides. His thighs…strong and smooth.

His cock…

I swallowed, glad his attention was on the bathing tub. He skimmed his hand over the surface. Just like the washing basin outside, he heated the water quickly, steam rising with his swift magic. His soft cock swung forward with the movement, the head of it darker than the shaft.

Even soft, veins curled up the sides.

Even soft…he was shockingly large.

My nails bit into the palms of my hands. I cleared my throat, turning quickly to get a fresh bandage from my cabinet in the front room, rummaging around, clinking bottles noisily, buying time as I got my heart under control.

Just a body,I thought. As a healer, especially when I'd lived in Rolara, before I'd hidden myself away in the Black Veil, I'd seen plenty of naked bodies. Males, females—it didn't matter. They were just bodies to me. Bodies that needed tending, that needed healing, that needed care.

Lorik needs care,I reminded myself.

He had a beautiful body, but I reminded myself of my healer's oath and blew out a quiet breath, gathering my supplies just when I heard him sink down into the tub.

Good.

"Let me get the bandage off," I told him, eyeing him as he leaned back in the bathing tub, his wings tucked uncomfortably inside. It was laughably small for someone his size, but at least it covered his distracting cock.

Kneeling at the side of the tub, I set my supplies next to me and unwrapped the bloodied cloth. Water trickled when he cupped some in his palms, splashing his chest to loosen and soften the Sever blood. I handed him a clean washcloth, and he began to scrub, his brow furrowed in concentration, his lips pursed in an almost pouting expression that I thought was oddly adorable.

He didn't like to be dirty, I realized.

"You tore through a few of the sutures. I'll need to redo them," I told him quietly.

He didn't say anything. In fact, he was entirely too quiet.

Lorik scrubbed at his body until not a speck of blood remained. He uncapped the bathing tub and watched the dirtied water swirl down before he turned on the taps again. He didn't even hiss when the icy water met his flesh. He didn't even shiver, keeping still as fresh water from my well rose around him.

As for me, I kept my eyes firmly on his shoulder, cutting out the threads of the sutures before threading my curved needle.

"I'll start stitching now," I said softly, warning him. He nodded. Though the water was fresh, no steam rose. He didn't heat the water, and I wondered why.

Lorik gave no indication that he even felt the needle piercing into him. I made quick work of it, and only when he had a fresh bandage on his clean skin did I start to feel more at ease.

Rocking back on my heels, I looked at him.

Lorik turned his head to regard me though he looked like a spoiled prince reclining in the tub.

"Why don't you heat the water?"

"Will you join me if I do?"

A flood of heat burned in my belly. "Don't be silly."

"I'm being infinitely serious," he replied, straight-faced, no hint of amusement on his features.

I tucked a strand of loose, wavy hair behind my ear, wetting my suddenly dry lips. My hands needed to be washed, but I couldn't move. Not when he was looking at me the way he was.

Lorik took pity on me. He smiled. Whatever mask he'd had in place before vanished…or perhaps his grinning, handsome face was more of a mask than I realized.

"I don't heat the water because it's a comfort. And I don't need comfort right now. I need to remember."

"Remember what?" I whispered.

"My duty," he murmured, lowering his chin before jutting it forward, gesturing toward the front room of my cottage, to the door. "To protect."

My brow furrowed. "From…from the Severs?"

"He wasn't a Sever," Lorik snapped. While his tone wasn't harsh, I still felt the bite of his words. "He was a Shade. A murderer. A thief. An oath breaker. And he wanted to die. He knew I would end him. I gave him mercy when I should have let him rot into this forest."

"What?" I whispered. I'd always known that there was more to Lorik than I could see…but this? "A Shade?"

"A Shade is what the Allavari think Severs are," he said, rolling his good shoulder, bringing a hand up to pinch between his brows. Then he inspected underneath his short claws, flicked out a piece of dried blood, and then took up the cloth again, scrubbing around his fingers. "But Severs have their own laws. Shades break them. Some were cast out from the Below, to be hunted or to be alone."

"How…how do you know all this?" I asked, my heart thrumming in my throat.

Lorik met my eyes. Bright, swirling blue. For a long while, he said nothing. Then…

"In Olimara, there's a collection of three books in the library," he said, his gaze sliding away, scrubbing at his claws again.

"Olimara?" I asked. "The western village on the other side of the Black Veil?"

He inclined his head once. "Books rumored to have been stolen from the Below. By a Sever. Brought up to the Above world and given in exchange for the right to live in the village, to live out the rest of his days there."

"And is that true?" I asked, utterly still. I'd never been to Olimara. Was that where Lorik lived?

"Who knows," Lorik said, his tone gruff. "Everyone lies."

"Even you?" I asked before I thought better of it.

"Especially me," he said, his sharp smile returning.

The flash of his fangs made me jolt, made me remember that it was nightfall and he likely needed to feed, especially after expending that energy on the Sever. Or…the Shade.

"You've killed Shades before," I commented.

"Only ones that get too close to the villages," he told me. "Or the ones who want to die."

"You give them mercy even though you don't think you should?" I asked, my gaze sliding down the line of his slick chest before I could stop myself. "Why?"

"It's only more pain and suffering," he replied. "Better to end it. Pain has power. It has energy, like magic. Why allow it to spread? Why not twist off its head right where it stands?"

There was something rising in me at the brutal edge of his words. Something I didn't understand.

Lorik cocked his head. Water trickled when he raised an arm, and I felt his hand clasp my chin, his thumb stroking the bottom of my lip.

"Do you like that, my bloodthirsty little witch?"

"I'm not bloodthirsty," I whispered, unable to look away.

"You like it when I'm cruel though. Or merciful—however you wish to look at it," he replied. His eyes were glowing again. They were all I could see.

"I like it when you don't hesitate," I corrected, the words falling out of me in a rush. My lip was wet from his thumb, and he stroked over the flesh. Unconsciously, I darted my tongue out to catch the water, and he made a sound in the back of his throat when it met the roughened pad of his thumb.

"Explain," he ordered, his gaze on my lips, like he wished I would lick him again.

"When you…when you don't overthink anything. You act. Some might call it unpredictable, but I don't think it's that at all," I confessed softly, my throat tight with want and desire and something that felt strangely like panic. "I think you know yourself better than most people know themselves. Your morality, your values, your lies, and your truths. I think you see the world ten steps ahead of everyone else."

"Then why didn't I ask you to Grimstone's and steal your kiss in a back booth if you believe I don't hesitate when it comes to what I want?" he questioned.

"I didn't say that. I didn't say only when it comes to what you want. But I think you know why you haven't asked me to Grimstone's," I whispered. "I don't. But you do. There's a reason for it—one I cannot see yet."

"But are you beginning to see it?" he questioned, leaning forward, his chest pressing harder against the side of the washing tub. "Are you beginning to see who I am, little witch?"

"I'm not even close," I admitted, my eyes half-lidded, leaning toward him. "I know your name is Lorik Ravael. I know you don't live in Rolara. I know Veras knows you and he thinks you're dangerous. I know you joke and smile with the lonely old silk trader at the market and that it makes her whole week. I know you watch people, I know you see a lot more than many do. I know you were struck with a poisoned arrow with a metal tip when Allavari only use wood. I know you've killed Severs…only you call them Shades. And that you've read books in Olimara. And that you have a sister who you would do anything for, though I've never seen you with anyone in the village. And I know…"

I swallowed, licking my lips again, and I felt the pressure of Lorik's thumb increase on my bottom lip.

"You know what, Marion?"

"I know that you look at me like you don't look at anyone else. Unless even that's a lie," I couldn't help but add. "Is it?"

"Hmmm. Tell me how I look at you, and I'll tell you if it's a lie," he rasped.

"Like…like you want me. Like I'm the one thing you can't figure out and it drives you mad," I answered honestly, memory of catching his pensive frown on me in the market. "Like you want nothing more than to steal my kiss and for some reason you just won't. Or can't. Like—"

Lorik leaned forward, his movements so quick they were a blur.

His palm spread over my cheek, his long fingers extending toward the nape of my neck, tugging me toward him.

His lips were warm and soft…but his kiss was firm.

I gasped, my scalp tingling, a full-body shiver racking me.

"Not a lie," he whispered against my lips. His tongue lapped at mine, his fangs brushing my bottom lip, teasing. "How's this for not hesitating?"