Page 26 of Humans Don't Have Horns
I stare at him, mouth slack. He can’t seriously be asking me to shave him with his knife. “What If I cut you?” I ask him.
He huffs, “Unless you slice my throat open, I’ll heal.”
The Butcher requests that a Puresoul hold a blade to his face, to his throat. “And a wolf lived with a sheep,” I drawl.
“Which one of us is the wolf?” he smirks, and I scoff because the hell if I know.
Daton sits on a rock on the bank of the pond, his legs spread, and he hands me the knife, which I take this time. I kneel in front of him, between his legs. My hands tremble at the idea I might cut him.
“Start from below in a swift movement,” he guides in a low voice, and as my eyes meet his, I realize what an intimate position this is, what an intimate act.
His scent is overwhelming. It should be disgusting in our sweaty conditions, yet it’s anything but. I bite my lip at the effect, and his eyes are drawn to it. He swallows hard enough for me to see, to hear. I concentrate on shaving as hard as I can. I tilt his chin with my hand to reveal his entire neck. I can see the movement of his Adam’s apple, the glow of perspiration on tender skin. I only notice I’ve clenched my thighs hard after I do it. Why is this so arousing? What’s wrong with me?
I place the blade at the bottom of his throat, and time stops as I make the first movement. Fresh skin is revealed, and blood. I’ve made him bleed. I gasp at the sight of his blood and try to rise. But he grabs my wrist and says in a calm voice, “The first time is always the hardest. Go on.”
I proceed before fear immobilizes me, and this time, no blood. I work cautiously over his face and neck. When I’m finally done, I feel exhausted from the stress of hurting him. And from the fire in my blood that is unrelated to the heat of the day.
“I’m going in for a swim,” I say, avoiding his eyes as I take off my pants and remain in my once-white army shirt. I wade into the water and glance at him over my shoulder. As I turn my head back to the waterfall, I know he will follow me.
The water is ice-cold, and I dive in, savoring the bracing effect. Irise back to the surface, feeling the spray of the falling water on my face. The water is so clear that I can see my toes at the bottom of the pond. And then I feel Daton’s big, warm body behind mine. I lean back into him, enjoying the sensation of his warmth against the coolness of the water. His arms hold my waist, and his lips graze my earlobe, lowering to the side of my neck.
And maybe it’s because there aren’t enough days left, or we’ve spent enough time together, or our delicate courtship has run its course, but holding back isn’t necessary anymore.
He turns me to face him. His shirt is off, and my mouth waters at the sight of his wet chest. There is a consuming desire in my body, but what I feel for him in my heart is even more frightening. So instead of dwelling on it, I kiss him with all my lust and despair, desire and fear.
I moan into his mouth as he cradles my head with one big hand and squeezes my ass with the other, pulling me in closer to his hard body. I can sense that he keeps himself at bay this time. And I hate it and am grateful for it at the same time. My hands stroke his wet black hair, sliding at the area where his horns emerge, and he growls like the predator he is.
He suddenly draws his mouth from mine. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he rasps. I tug his hair in answer, and he hisses. “You will be the death of me, Lian,” he grunts before his lips slam to mine, and he lifts me, wrapping my legs around his waist. I feel his hard length against my center. His hand moves from my ass to cup my breast, and he pushes down my shirt to reveal my breasts. I’m too consumed by desire to be abashed by his gaze. This is the first time a man has seen me naked.
That night before my would-be wedding, my assailant didn’t even bother undressing me before forcing himself inside me. I’m glad I get to have these firsts with Daton. My first kiss and now this. As if a part of me survived that attack.
Daton grazes my right breast with his callused fingers, then my nipple, and I moan against his mouth. He licks my lips before lowering his mouth to my breast. His lips close around my nipple,then he licks and sucks it with his mouth. I throw my head back in pleasure, and it is only then that I see them. My blood turns colder than ice.
Five men on horses, looking straight at us from the bank. Panic grips me, and I quickly pull away from Daton. He goes still as his eyes follow mine, the color draining from his face as realization sets in. For the first time since I met him, I see apprehension in his face.
My eyes return to the men. I spot the one who came to my tent the night before Daton did. The man who raped me. Ashar, the King of Kozari.
Chapter Thirteen
Siean
I walk back to Renya in a haze as the blood-curling screams of the guards ring in my ears. The sight and sound of them being eaten by the demichad will haunt me until my dying day. I think of Didia, the head guard who just ripped apart. His mother is the main cook in the palace. How will I ever face her again? After surviving what he did not. He was her only child, named after his father who died at the hands of the Butcher while she was pregnant. The fucking Butcher. For fuck’s sake.
After several hours on foot, I reach a small Renyan village on the border. I ask the head of the village to arrange a carriage and a horse. The villagers are startled by my bloody appearance and the urgency of my words. I am in a carriage pulled by four horses for maximum speed, with food and fresh clothes, in no more than twenty minutes.
The generosity of Renyans is well known, yet it never ceases to move me.“They are generous only to Renyans.”I can hear Lian’s self-righteous tone in my head .Lian. It is too painful even to think of my sister’s name. I have so longed for her all these years. She was not just my sister but my best friend. But that is lost. Everything is lost.
I feel so hollow inside. Lian’s words of reproachburn me. The rancor of the Butcher, surprisingly, managed to wound me as well. He would have killed me. I saw the burning hatred in his eyes. I saw death on him. He has killed so many of my people, but when she touched him, he was a different thing. I would never believe it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes that the Butcher could love a Puresoul.
I would have believed pigs could fly sooner. That he would love my sister, the daughter of Rod, is beyond fiction even. Yet I know what love looks like. I was once looked upon with that emotion. But it has gone. All who once loved me are lost to me. I failed to save them all: my mother, my sister, my brother, and myself.
That’s why I pushed Anya away. Let her think the worst of me. I should be used to people thinking the worst of me by now. So I just let her go. It was like turning a knife in my heart. In a way, I was surprised to find I still have a heart at all.
Anya always hated Tilil. But she didn’t know the half of it. She doesn’t know how many she has poisoned to death or what she is capable of. So I showed her the worst of me. Better than her knowing I was protecting her from the monster that is Tilil. I will not have blood on my hands again.
But then I nearly killed my sister. If not for that damn demichad, she would be in Rod’s hands by now. Better the fire than the poison, better the quicker death, I tried to convince myself in the carriage. She was right to say it’s a good thing Mother is dead. Our mother knew the death from Tilil’s favorite poison. I need to remind myself to breathe at the panic the memory evokes.Oh, Goddess, you are crueler than Sun could ever be.
My sister thinks me a monster. I never even touched a Cursed One. But there’s no point in telling her and the Butcher that. They wouldn’t believe me, and even if they did, they wouldn’t care. It’s been years since I found out what my health potion was made of. And that the Cursed Ones can’t live without their horns. I wondered, at times, how many of them had died so I could live. But I didn’t choose this. I didn’t ask to come back from the dead. What do they know of dying?Of the pain of life being sucked out of you? What do they know of resurrection?
