Page 144 of Eldritch
Her words stirred a vague image of himself, cloaked and masked, standing alongside a bed. The thought warmed his blood, so familiar, but distant. Like a dream, or a fleeting idea he’d once had.
“How?” he asked in a guarded voice.
“I need secrets. Strategy. A woman in my position requires an advantage against her enemies.”
“That doesn’t explainhow.”
“As part of my Gildona, your duty is to entertain my guests, in exchange for knowledge. That was your role at the golden bacchanal. But not all of my rivals are so comfortable sitting at my table.” She leaned in close enough that the warmth of her breath on his neck forced him to turn away from her. “At times, you may be required to seek them out.”
“You would trust me leaving this place?” he said, still facing away from her.
“Not initially, no.” She pushed to her feet again, to his relief. Even then, as she spoke of the possibility of him leaving the Gildona, of granting him freedom, the urge to swipe that blade at her hip and watch her bleed out weighed heavy on him. “That level of trust must be earned, as I said. Consider it a thin ray of hope. A path toward whatever it is that keeps you breathing.”
“And how do you ensure I’ll return to you, once I’ve had my freedom?” he challenged, his gaze on hers unwavering.
“You’ve come to know my cruel nature quite well, but what you’ve yet to meet is my kindness.”
He spat a bitter chuckle. “You think your kindness would have me fleeing back to your arms?”
“Yes. Once I’m bonded to you. That is the condition for your freedom.”
The very thought sank to his stomach like a sack of writhing worms. “A bond is sacred. Binding.”
“For mancers, yes. But I am only half. Orgoths don’t have mates. And the piercing I’ve placed on you would ensure that you never know pleasure, nor satisfaction and fulfillment, with another.”
The mere mention of the piercing, like a secret between them, taunted his rage. He could still hear her low, panting breaths as she brought herself to climax while watching him suffer through the pain of it.
“How fortunate, you’ve thought of everything.” The tight clench of his jaw betrayed the otherwise careless tone of his voice.
A knowing smile played on her lips. “You are the only one I’ve ever considered.”
“A bond, to glean nothing more than information.”
“It’s more than fucking an aristocrat for information. You cannot allow them to live afterward.” She expelled a resigned breath and glanced away. “I would allow you to see your mother, your sister. So long as you come back to me and share what you’ve gathered. We can start by bringing them here. Once you’ve earned my trust, we’ll discuss the bond and your freedom.”
“Am I to return to the mines in the meantime?”’
She swung her attention back to him, eyes alight with cruel amusement. “I do not reward lies.”
“What makes you think I’m lying?”
“Dravien Nockvayne alerted me to your treachery. You see, he has a very keen sense of hearing. It’s why I chose him for Aradia. I simply wanted to know if your loyalties could be further challenged by reward, instead of abuse.”
“Aren’t you curious to know who betrayed you, then?” In his periphery, Zevander could see Theron watching them from across the room, undoubtedly studying his body language.
“Of course I am. But you won’t tell me. That loyalty of yours is precisely why I’d choose you to carry out these discreet tasks.”
“Perhaps I’m not as loyal as you imagine.”
“Then, tell me who betrayed me.”
Zevander’s gaze flicked to Theron and back, but for reasons he couldn’t explain, he kept silent.
A grin crept across her face, and she sauntered off.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
ZEVANDER
