Chapter 24

Chapter

Twenty-Four

TAMAS

I barely understood the apostles' ranting, but two words stood out clearly: Tressya and danger. There was also mention of an old crone, now dead at the hands of the woman-beast who had appeared out of thin air, which could be none other than Bryra.

Osmud and I, in our beastly forms, raced side by side, reaching Tressya in no time. She lay huddled against Bryra's massive belly, appearing small, vulnerable, and strangely, freezing.

I shifted back to my human form, avoiding the Mother's lifeless body, and crouched beside Tressya. She was nestled in Bryra's plush fur, which failed to keep her warm. If not even Bryra's body warmth couldn't soothe her shivering, it must be some kind of curse at work .

"What happened?" I chided myself for the unmistakable fear that laced my voice.

My haste to reach Tressya, combined with my frequent shifting between forms, caused the skin around my nearly healed dagger wound to sting. However, I easily dismissed the discomfort as I knelt beside Tressya and gathered her in my arms, making room for Bryra to shift into her half-form.

"The Mother found her," was the first thing Bryra said.

"I understood little of the apostles' ramblings, but they said you killed her."

"I took her by surprise."

"So the bitch is dead," Osmud said. "That's a welcome relief. Now there's only the Salmun."

As Osmud spoke, I turned my gaze to Bryra, my mind swirling with questions. The most urgent one was why was she in the south. After regaining consciousness, I hadn't had the chance to press her for answers because she'd vanished. Truth be told, I assumed she'd headed back north. But for now, all questions would have to be put on hold until Tressya was safely and warmly back at the manor.

Avoiding Osmud's gaze—he was still skeptical about forming a partnership with Tressya—I quickly retraced our path, holding Tressya close to my body for warmth, as her own body seemed incapable of generating any heat. Despite her courage matching that of any warrior, she felt fragile and small in my arms. Anxiety became a heavy burden, draped over my shoulders like an oversized cloak of iron.

In beast form, I could reach the manor in half the time, but Tressya lacked the strength to hold on. I would have to return in human form, moving slower, yet still faster than any normal man could.

It was clear the Mother was behind Tressya's condition. However, I couldn't determine how, since, to my knowledge, soul voice was their only weapon. Yet, Thaindrus had mentioned the possibility of a Nazeen traitor. And this situation could very well be the evidence needed to confirm a Nazeen had assisted the Mother.

Jaw clenched, I mentally shook my concerns and increased my pace, desperate to return to the manor.

‘This is not your responsibility, young Razohan.'

I growled at Ineth's interference.

‘She is no longer the woman who has your heart,' Ovia added.

‘ Say one more word…' My thoughts were on Tressya, my desperation to reach the manor like claws seizing my heart, I had no threat to finish with.

‘It is only a matter of time. We think only of your pain, my friend. Give her to your friends and leave. Make the break now. She will not last the night,' Carthius said. ‘It is obvious she is cursed. A curse beyond reach.'

"Shut the fuck up," I snarled, realizing I'd said the words aloud too late.

Tressya tried to respond, but her teeth chattered so much, her words incomprehensible.

"If you need a break." Osmud suddenly appeared beside me, offering to take Tressya, thinking she was my burden because he didn't understand my real burden was buried deep within.

I felt the snarl rise in my throat, felt my lips peel back to reveal a fang at the thought of handing her off to someone else.

She's mine to care for. The thought was so sharp it felt like it sliced through my skull. I remained silent, knowing Osmud would understand my silence as a refusal.

It wasn't until I reached the steps of the manor that I slowed my pace. The apostles and Gusselan were waiting on the portico, but I waved them off and hurried inside, aware of Osmud and Bryra closely following. I ascended the stairs as if I had wings, and without conscious thought, headed towards my room, only realizing my direction when I arrived at my door.

Osmud appeared on the other side of the bed, pulling back the covers so I could lay her down. I caught his eye and nodded in gratitude for his thoughtfulness, despite his mixed feelings towards her.

"She needs more covers," I informed everyone who was now crowding into the room.

"Perhaps we can be of assistance," Tortilus dodged around Bryra and edged close to the bed.

"The first priority is warmth," I snapped.

"Of course. More covers," Tortilus barked, snapping his fingers at no one in particular, but already Osmud reappeared, carrying a high bundle in his arms.

"Oh good. Quickly now, let's tuck her in." Tortilus tried to help by reaching for an end of the blanket as Osmud draped it over Tressya's small form. However, a single growl from me made him jerk back and retreat.

"Apologies," he stuttered. "Come brethren," he waved the other three apostles forward. "Plesy, remember that spell we were working?—?"

"No," I intoned, snapping my arm out to wrap a clawed hand around Tortilus's upper arm. "Leave it for now." I tasted the subtle tang of blood on my tongue as the tips of my fangs descended.

Tortilus squeaked as the other three eased away.

"Perhaps it would be a better idea if we all left the room," Osmud said, giving me his best ‘you're a crazy-ass-moron' glare.

"Except you." I glanced at Bryra.

Once everyone else had left us in peace, I planned to crawl in beside Tressya to warm her up and question Bryra about what had transpired on the path. I needed answers to save her. If this was a magical issue, the apostles were our best chance of saving Tressya, even though I doubted they had a lick of real magic between them. Romelda came to mind. If Osmud flew north, He could bring Romelda south within a few days. But what if Tressya didn't have a couple of days?

"Now's not the time," Osmud said, his voice heavy with concern. I was sure his thoughts were more with Bryra than with me, understandably so, given the harshness in my tone.

"I need to know?—"

Feeling the cold brush of Tressya's hand against mine, everyone else faded into the background like mere furniture as I crouched beside her, taking her hand in mine and fighting the urge to roar with fury at the horrible chill of her touch.

She shook her head, which I took to mean she agreed with Osmud. Bryra had attempted to save Tressya by killing the Mother, so perhaps I should go easy on her.

I clenched my teeth and Tressya's hand, forcing myself to remain calm, suppressing the evidence of my inner beast.

"Time to clear the room, folks," Osmud said.

"I'll bring warm broth," Gusselan said as she departed.

I rested my forehead on the side of the bed, softened by a well of gratitude for Osmud's presence. Both he and Tressya were right in preventing me from questioning Bryra at this time, not while I felt as though I was being edged into a walled enclosure. I didn't react well—understatement—to feeling caged; helpless.

As the door closed, I slipped beneath the mountain-high covers, gently lifting Tressya from the bed and nestling myself underneath. I sprawled her down the length of my body, her head resting on my chest. It was like layering myself in snow, and I bit back a persistent whimper of concern.

"It…it…"

"Shh." I stroked her back. "You don't need to talk."

"It…it…will…pass."

"Not soon enough," I grumbled, laying my head back on the pillow and wrapping my arms around her tight. "Rest knowing you're in my arms, Tressya. Nothing will harm you." I had to hope my will was strong enough to keep her with me, given I had no magical means of countering any curse.

I closed my eyes. One day I will. When the Etherweave is mine, no harm will ever befall Tressya again.

‘This is true, young Tamas,' Carthius said. I inwardly groaned at the reminder of my constant and infuriating companions.

‘Once it is yours, there will be no stopping you. You will have the power to do what you desire,' Carthius continued. ‘Always remember that. Keep that goal at the forefront of your mind.'

‘I swear if I could rip you from my mind, I would.' But Carthius had a point. Once I imbued the Etherweave, I would be a magic wielder with no limits to the good I could do. And the bad . I had to always remember that.

By the time Tressya warmed, the sun lingered low on the horizon. She'd remained frozen for the rest of the night and the following day, only now, as the sun disappeared, had she finally warmed. Gusselan had come and gone with bowls of warm broth, which Tressya devoured as if she hadn't had a decent meal in a week, and then promptly fell asleep.

I had to snap at Tortilus three times when he poked his head inside the door, hoping I would be amenable to their magical attempts to dispel any curse Tressya might be under. The next time the apostle stuck his head through the door, I was ready with the blade I had freed from my belt. He would wear it through his skull if he dared to repeat his question even once more.

The room was now steeped in darkness, save for the bedside candle thoughtfully prepared by Gusselan before she departed. Were it not for the apostles' excited chatter in a distant part of the manor, I might have thought it deserted.

With the Mother's prompt arrival, the Salmun came to mind. They couldn't be far from tracking Tressya down, and I had no idea how many remained after the tunnel fight. Hopefully, Osmud and Bryra were vigilantly monitoring the paths near the manor.

Given the challenges we faced, I should have been pacing, striving to rein in my chaotic thoughts and seeking mental clarity, hoping to make wise decisions. However, in that moment, I found myself unable to muster any concerns or even move a limb, content to lie there with Tressya sprawled across me.

I gently traced lazy trails along her back, experiencing a newfound sense of contentment and tranquility. For the first time, my body didn't feel the urge to move. Instead, I felt as though I could grow old with her sprawled across me, her slow, steady heartbeats like the gentle flutter of a tiny bird's wings against my chest. The return of her warmth and the pressure of her petite frame against me spread a comforting heat through my chest and into my belly, kindling a slow-burning fire that, once ignited, would never extinguish.

If I could command the Etherweave, I would stop time, suspending us in this quiet cocoon for eternity, keeping the world from breeching our serene sanctuary, until I felt the twinges of the Eone's presence slowly merging within my mind.

Stay the fuck away . Silence ensured. Perhaps they sensed the savage snarl in my mental thoughts.

As if sensing my internal snarl, Tressya stirred. I held my breath, not ready for her to awaken, knowing the moment she did, she would quickly climb off me while bombarding me with questions I had no desire to answer and insisting we plot our escape from the predicament we found ourselves in. Once more, I reflected on my state of tranquil lethargy and how little I cared about anything beyond the confines of this bedroom. There was time enough to worry about our fates once this night was over.

Too late, she was waking. She lifted her head off my chest, then made to rise.

"What do you think you're doing?" My voice was rough, a reflection of my suddenly darkened mood, as I preferred situations to unfold in my favor, and Tressya staying asleep, her warm little body pressing down on me, was my idea of bliss.

"It's nighttime."

"When all should be asleep." With a firm hand on her back, I eased her down onto my chest again.

"Tamas." She tried to resist me.

"No." I wrapped both arms around her, securing her in an embrace from which there was no escape. Ever.

"I'm overheating."

"Better than shivering."

"Please."

With effort, I kicked the mountain of covers down to our waists. "You'll feel cooler soon."

I closed my eyes, smiling to myself, as I felt her resistance ease. However, she disrupted my serenity by tracing the tip of her finger around my nearly healed wound, igniting a flame fiercer than the embers stemming from my heart.

"I'm sorry."

"You shouldn't be. It's no less than I deserved."

She lifted her head, resting her chin on my chest. "But you were…are…umm…"

"Possessed."

She rose, then laid her chin on her folded arms, splayed across my chest. "We haven't talked about that."

Not like this; not when the delightful sensation of her body stretched atop mine consumed my thoughts. There was no room in my head for anything else.

"Let the moment be as it is." I closed my eyes, avoiding her gaze as I battled a myriad of urges: some innocent, some dark, and some depraved.

"How did it happen?"

I released a low rumbling growl deep in my throat, which only made Tressya chuckle.

"Do I need to teach you another lesson, Razohan?"

I cracked an eye open. "Is that a bargain or a threat?"

"Both are equally effective."

"You do realize moments like these will be as rare as dogs with wings going forward? I think it best we savor it for the tranquility it affords us and let the chaos of our fates remain in the future for a little longer."

"The southerners had no word for these people, and so they called them the ancients. But you're saying they're the Eone."

I sighed, conceding defeat. Yet, I continued my gentle caresses across her back, holding onto the faint hope that it might eventually work to my advantage and coax her to lie back down across my chest .

"There are four of them."

"Four?! As in, four inside of you? Possessing you?"

"It's more than a little crowded."

"And they created the Etherweave?"

"According to them."

She rose until she straddled me, which was the next best thing to her stretched out atop my body, so I didn't complain.

"But they must be millennia old. How did they possess you?"

‘Please, Tamas, now is not the time,' Ineth urged.

Curses that he'd reared so suddenly within my mind. My serenity broken, my jumbled thoughts were once more clouding my concentration, and the Eone slipped through without me noticing.

"It's a tedious story." My voice was perhaps a little too forceful. "There's only one part worth knowing. A fragment of their essence has survived to this day. That's how they found a way inside. And now they're a blight I long to burn from my mind."

The Eone remained surprisingly quiet.

"They want you to kill me?"

"They know what will happen if they dare try to influence me again."

I rested my hands on her thighs, hoping a gentle massage might divert her attention from her questions to more pleasant pursuits.

Tressya didn't respond immediately. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet. " Do they?"

It was an uncomfortable question because I couldn't respond with a resounding yes.

"What happened with the Mother?"

"No way. You don't get to change the subject. This is serious, Tamas. If they can influence you?—"

"Once. Only once. I'm Razohan, Tressya, a man filled with countless souls. No voices in my head will ever dictate my actions." I didn't mean for my tone to sound so harsh.

"As the second bloodborn, I'm a danger to their plans."

My grip tightened on her thighs. "No. Never. Not to me."

She rested her hands over mine, a subtle sign that my grip was too tight, and I didn't realize.

"Sorry," I mumbled.

"Now we really have a problem."

"There's no problem. They'll never risk endangering you because they know what I'll do."

How could I recapture the serenity of our moment? I was unable to take advantage of her ideal position sitting astride me, as I couldn't dismiss the truth in her words from my mind. Damn. It appeared as though she'd won, dragging me so thoroughly from our enchanted moment. My heart kicked up a fierce beat remembering last night. Any minute I would transform certain parts of my body, which were bound to send her to the other side of the room.

Calm the fuck down.

"They believe they'll gain access to the Etherweave by possessing you, Tamas. These Eone won't stop trying to dominate your mind. You're as much a danger to their plans as I am. You and I are the two people who stand in their way. "

She is devious, Ovia said.

We must break her influence over him, Fivia added.

We shall. But we need to move carefully, Carthius said.

"They think you're devious."

The Eone vanished from my mind as emphatically as a slamming door.

Tressya's brows hitched.

"I told you it was crowded in here."

I firmly gripped her hips, signaling for her to stay put while I shuffled myself up to lean against the wall behind us. "Now you know my sordid secret. What happened out there today?"

"This is serious, Tamas. You can't change the subject. I want to know more about these Eone."

"You were a mess when I arrived. Not even Bryra's body warmth could restore yours. I think that's equally serious. So, what happened?"

She shook her head, scrunching up her nose. "You always do this. Returning my question with a question."

"And you always think you'll get the better in a conversation."

"Because my questions carry more weight."

I seized her wrists, pulling her arms forward, so they were either side of me, which drew her nearer, her face hovering dangerously close to mine. "I humor you most of the time."

"That's why you have a blade wound on your chest."

"Tressya, my queen, will there come a day when you surrender to me?"

Her eyes subtly widened, pupils noticeably dilating. What she heard pleased her, igniting parts of me that should never be stirred unless she was ready for the consequences.

"Isn't the blade wound proof enough of my surrender?" She quirked a brow in question.

I stared into her eyes, then let my gaze drift down to her lips, making a deliberate show of it. "That it is. I wouldn't expect any less from my queen."

She fought unsuccessfully with a smile, slanting her gaze sideways to hide how delighted she was with the new title I'd given upon her.

"Bryra killed the Mother, which I'll be eternally grateful for."

This time, it was my turn to suppress a triumphant smile. She had succumbed, abandoning her own questions to respond to mine.

"You knew Bryra was here?"

"I did." She glanced over my head at the darkness outside.

"Do you know why she's here? I'm struggling to think how she made it through the Ashenlands without help."

Her gaze settled on me. "She saved your ass, you know. There's no way I could have gotten you out of the castle on my own."

"How did she get into the castle without drawing everyone's attention to her? And why does it sound like you're defending her?"

"Because you're bullheaded. Once you're angry, you won't hear the truth. You'll only hear the version of the story you want to hear."

"What version should I hear? "

"The one that says Bryra was your savior." Tressya tried to free herself from my grip, but I wouldn't release her until she gave me specifics.

There was no reason Bryra would venture south. She'd suffered during the Ashenlands war—Osmud filled me in, when normally Bryra would have told me herself—saying she was done with the world of the two-legged, and that her father needed her by his side.

"So why was she in Emberfell?" I barely suppressed the frustration in my voice. Tressya's secrecy compromised her safety, yet she expected me to turn a blind eye.

"You should know I'm possessed too."

I released her wrists. "What?"

Tressya sat back, and I followed. "What do you mean? Who? Since when? Why didn't you say something straight away?"

With a firm hand on my chest, she attempted to push me backward. I resisted, a spark of burning liquid pooled in my belly, molten fury, searing a hole through my gut.

"Stars, Tressya."

"You expect me to reveal all when you dance around my questions?"

"We've had this argument."

"Oh really, when?"

"I'm no stranger to bearing the weight of others' souls. Having voices other than my own in my head is not uncommon."

"That's because you're insane."

"Who is it, Tressya?" I flicked my gaze between her eyes, my stare sharp as a knife, hoping to carve out the answer from within. "Shit. It's the Mother? That's why you were like ice to touch. The Mother's spirit has possessed you?"

"Certainly not what I expected. I'm furious she outsmarted me."

"Tressya…" I struggled to find the words, as something beast-like surged from deep within, a wild and furious feeling slowly growing barbed wings.

She pressed a finger against my lips. "I can handle her."

Not even her finger on my lips would distract me as a primal savagery tore through my chest, leaving in its wake a shredded heart. I would use my claws as a pitchfork, and gouge that bitch from within if I knew it wouldn't harm Tressya. While I was at it, I would give Tressya a damn good shake. This situation was nothing short of perilous, yet she was treating it as a mere inconvenience.

I moved her finger aside. "I'm sure there's a way to bring the Mother back to life once I have the Etherweave, just so I can kill her again, in a bloody and violent way."

"Once you have the Etherweave?"

I barely heard her reply. "I can handle the Eone. But the Mother, I question you'll?—"

"You're dealing with four. And they obviously still hold some of their power if they could save you from whatever foul Salmun poison made you suffer. The Mother's little more than an irritable spirit trapped within."

"The Eone is nothing without me. They know that. But the Mother nearly killed you." My voice rode along the wild fury within, coming out louder, harsher than I meant.

"Hardly." She folded her arms across her chest. "I was a little cold. That's far from dying. You, on the other hand, tried to kill me."

"Never, Tressya." I vehemently shook my head.

She pressed her palm over my wound. "And what about this?"

I fell backward against the wall, groaning in frustration at how easily she flipped our argument. Sure, I had a momentary lapse of weakness, one that would never happen again. Never. I would grow stronger, fight harder, become smarter. The Eone would never have that much control over me again. My will was iron.

As if sensing the heat of my simmering anger, Tressya traced a finger around the wound, then let it glide along my chest, her eyes following the path she created. "The Mother has no surprises left. And at least I've gained one thing."

She had the audacity to think she could climb off of me while my anger was far from quelled. I tightened my grip on her waist, forcing her back onto my lap. She wasn't going anywhere until I decided otherwise.

She frowned at me.

"We haven't finished our conversation."

"I have soul voice," she stated, as if I were a fool for not anticipating her response. "Everything of hers is mine. It's not too dissimilar to what happens when you take souls, Razohan."

"Don't you think she would've planned for that?"

"The Mother knows nothing about spiritweaving. I mean…she knows nothing about what it's like. And how it's done. She's little more than a spirit now. And spirits are harmless. "

Having spent countless enjoyable hours gazing at Tressya's face, I was familiar with the subtleties of her expressions. Thus, I could tell when she was lying or, at the very least, uncertain about the truth of her claims.

"Liar. You don't even believe what you're saying."

That finger of hers was having a hypnotic effect. I tried to resist dipping my gaze to watch the now gentle swirls she was making around my left nipple, almost absentmindedly, while she continued talking. "I know more about the Mother and spiritweaving than you know of the Eone. She'll prove an annoyance. Nothing more."

"An annoyance that wants to possess the Etherweave."

"Like the Eone. It seems we're a pair."

"I don't like this."

"You think I'm thrilled? Unlike the Eone, the Mother has no magic. She only has soul voice. And I have the power of my soul word. Besides, I'm not even sure soul voice would be effective when she's trapped inside of me."

"I'm not convinced?—"

She jerked forward and kissed me, a firm kiss meant to silence me, not entice me. But, as sure as the stars come out every night, it didn't work as she hoped, because it was enticing.

When she went to pull away, I gripped her wrists. No. No. No. My little viper.

"I'm sorry, little queen," I whispered against her lips. "There's no backing out of what you started."

"Tamas, the Mother disapproves."

In shock, I let her go.

She smirked, then sat back, straddling me once more. The little serpent. I flipped her over and nestled myself nicely between her legs, which was a bad move. My cock wanted to play. "What exactly does the Mother disapprove of?" I quirked a brow, bending forward to feather kisses along her throat, unable to stop my hips from rolling forward and gentling thrusting against her pants. The soft snarl I released was for the fabric that lay between us.

"Not that, for sure."

I couldn't help smiling at the purr in her voice.

"And if I did this?" I worked the tip of my tongue along her jawline, tasting the delicate sweetness of her flavor, very much like a blend of the finest meal, the most exquisite scent, and the most cherished memory all in one. I grew suddenly ravenous to taste more delectable flavors on her body. I dragged my nose across the delicate skin of her chest, inhaling as I did so. "There's not enough of you exposed for me to taste." My voice was harsh, as I felt my fangs descend.

"I'm sure she would find this outrageous," I whispered as I flicked open the first two buttons on her shirt with a fang and nuzzled my nose between the soft swell of her cleavage, partially hidden behind her chemise, longing to lick and nip all that luscious skin she kept hidden underneath her ill-fitting men's clothes.

Her soft sigh was the spark that ignited my hunger. "This all has to go," I growled.

"What about all your questions? I'm sure you have a dozen more." I heard the smile in her voice. More importantly, I felt the jump of her heartbeat under my tongue.

"I'm far more interested in scandalizing that old crone," I mumbled. Anything that came before me getting my lips on her skin was long forgotten.

"And the Eone?"

"Who?" I flicked more buttons open with my fangs. "If you were further along in your transition from mere human to Razohan, we could have ourselves a lot of fun right now."

The edges of my restraint were slowly fraying. Give me another few seconds, and they would be torn asunder. The day Tressya traded her fragile human body for the strength of her beast would be the day I discovered how truly feral I could become.

"For now, I'll keep my claws and fangs tucked away and play nice."

"I thought you wanted to scandalize the Mother." Her voice slipped into the breathy whisper of anticipation, as I pulled her chemise from its hem up to her chin. Forcing my fangs away, I wasted no time tantalizing her nipples with my hot breaths and gentle sucks.

"Oh believe me, I will," I said between passing from one breast to the other. "I still have my fingers and tongue as perfect weapons in my arsenal."

"Is that all?" Her voice ended in a soft huff of a sigh.

"That's for starters."

"It's too late. She's already receded. I don't feel her anymore."

No longer caring about that stupid old crone, I used my tongue to crawl my way down her body, delicately swirling it around her belly button while I flipped the buttons on her pants. Tressya encouraged me with soft gasps and small grunts of anticipatory pleasure, sounds that headed to one place, spawning a need in me that would soon turn to pain if I was denied.

Damn, I need this woman. My desires were as primal as they were emotional. Being in her presence tantalized my senses as much as any unrestrained carnal pleasure. The last thing I ever expected or believed was that I'd find the other half of my soul while hunting for the Etherweave.

"You need to know my days will be spent in worship of you," I whispered against her skin as I slowly drew her pants down her thighs, following the fabric with delicate nips and kisses.

"Only days?" she mumbled, already sounding as though she was floating in bliss.

"Always. There will be no night and day, only us."

With garments discarded, I leaned back to behold what was in my heart, mine—perhaps not entirely, but I would continue to believe so until Tressya made her feelings about us unequivocally clear.

Every curve of her body was mine to explore, savor, and possess for as long as she allowed. I was ravenous, desperately eager to taste every inch of her skin and chart it with my hands, lips, and tongue until she craved a taste of my blood. And that's exactly what I did, sparing no inch of her body, pausing in places that made her giggle or utter soft little sounds of delight, relishing the way she soothed her fingers through my hair and drew her nails along my skin. The tantalizing curve of her nape, the extra soft flesh beneath her breasts, and the dip of her hips, particularly enthralled me—places that captured her scent and intensified it. In my clan, twenty-seven was considered young, yet it felt as though I'd wasted too much of my life without her. How was it the simple act of pleasuring this woman could make me feel so complete?

I could spend a lifetime enjoying the feel of her skin on my tongue, but the primal pulse of my blood yearned to taste that one part of her body reserved solely for me. I lowered, hitching one leg over my shoulder, then hummed my approval at the sight before me, before wetting my lips and nestling myself between her legs, eager to commit the fragrance of her most intimate part to memory. I wanted her, wanted this, wanted it more than my next breath, more than the Bone Throne.

I took my time toying with her, savoring her, learning the nuances of her desire, what secret places drew those gorgeous little sounds of pleasure, what use of my fingers and tongue caused the slight tremor in her thighs before it moved through to seize her entire body in the swell of her impending orgasm. This would be my place of worship. Here, I would stake my claim or perish in the attempt.

My arousal was a torturous bliss, a euphoric pain I willingly suffered when she fisted my hair, ground herself across my face, arched her back off the bed and cried my name like I was a god.

Over Tressya's cries of pleasure came the sound of heavy boots thumping down the corridor.

"Tamas," she gasped.

"They wouldn't dare," I growled, reaching over her to where I left my dagger on the bedside table before I slipped into bed to warm Tressya .

"What're you doing?" She pushed at my chest, and I snarled. Our moment was well and truly trashed.

"Whoever comes through that door wears it," I said, turning to look over my shoulder.

A blink after the door burst wide, I released the dagger. Osmud caught it before it impaled his eye. Behind him, Tortilus squeaked. Cramming in after them came the rest of the apostles. It seemed everyone thought my room was a thoroughfare.

"You'll want to hold on to this once you hear my news," he said.

Tressya was struggling to shift out from under me, but I stayed her with a hand, pulling her chemise down first before I growled. "Only one person need tell us the news," I barked, feeling the flames of anger lick the edges of my caged beast. The apostles scuttled from the room, tumbling over each other in their haste to be gone.

"Lucky I warned Tortilus to let me enter first," Osmud responded dryly, leading against the doorjamb, flipping the dagger as though bored.

"What is it?" Tressya said, seeming to forget she'd lost her pants with all the tension thickening the air.

"Turn around," I growled at Osmud.

He quirked a brow, then casually turned to look out the door as if this was no big deal, and normally it wouldn't be for us Razohan, but I didn't know how Tressya would feel about her lost privacy.

"The Salmun," Osmud replied.