Page 84 of Prince of Night and Storm
My response slips out before I have a chance to work through my shock. “No one has ever spoken to me like this.”
Like I'm property for their bed. Held me like this, as if I'm soon to be a sheathe for their cock and from the look in his eyes not merely one sheathe. And what does he mean, the years of difficulty? What did he cultivate? While asleep?
His eyes flare. “Then we are even, Malisse ni, and you are finally receiving the first lesson in a delayed education.” He brushes his lips against my ear, and whispers, “Choose your opponent wisely and never, ever, capture the desire of a Temthrennes High Lord. We do not release what we have claimed, not even to death, and lest you think that hyperbole, Aerinne Nyawira Kuthliele of Avallonne by the Sea, it is not.”
Now I'm furious, and my fingers itch. “You victim blaming bastard. I did nothing to court your attention.”
If I thought his gaze cruel before, now it's vicious. “And yet you have it. Accept your fate, as I have accepted mine. Girls are so whiny.”
As I grapple with the savage, possessive words spoken in a velvet courtier's voice, he whirls me away from the courtyard and half drags me down a labyrinthinewalkway of flower strewn stone where we slow to a stroll, heels crushing petals to release heady perfume in the air.
“I haven't begun to do what I want with you. We met in battle; you lost. I allowed you to retreat with your life and the lives of those who look to you.”
Realms, he could give Darkan a run when it comes to rants. At least I know how to handle this—don’t engage, because that only encourages them, and wait for it to pass.
“To the victor goes the spoils, Aerinne. Did you hope I would fail to collect? You hoped in vain. Not even in memory of my sister will I relinquish you.”
“You call her sister, but perversely speak to her daughter, yourniece, of spoils.” So much for not engaging.
Renaud laughs. “I was born of Ninephe. We do not care for such human strictures. My father once granted one of my older sisters to a harem of our brothers to speedily breed a recessive trait in Temthrennes blood.”
His father did what now? I blink, eyes widening. That's. . .different.
I'm not sure I want to know either way but, “Did she agree to this?”
His lips curve, an edged slice of a smile. “Malisse ni, it was her idea. We knew we would be at war again in a century, and our ranks had thinned. We are always the front line. Temthrennes warriors were needed, specific warriors, which means children.” He shrugs. “All of the High caste families are subject to Assariel's will. There are traits in your maternal line he will be pleased for our children to inherit. Muri. . .held out until Danon.”
His expression wipes clean then.
. . . I'm suddenly certain this is one of the reasons Danon said he would never take me to Ninephe.
Wait a minute. Our? What kind of our?
I dig my nails in Renaud's arm as ancient firs envelop us in an intimate cocoon. Murmuring voices reach my ears so we can't be far from the others but now we’re alone.
“Can they hear us?” I ask as we slow to a stop. The current conversation is not at all what I imagined the cocktail hour socializing would go like tonight.
“Not from the moment we began to dance, my halfling. Your public vitriol is for my ears only, else I would be forced to punish you.”
Renaud backs me against a tree, each step deliberate, rough bark scraping my bare arms and where my slip of a gown dips low on my back. It’s a modern style, and I'm regretting it now.
“What are you doing?”
Damn him, what does he mean by our?
I push at his chest and finally my avatar rouses. Absent the lure of bloodshed, it rarely bestirs itself to wake, much less grow. Not that there’s much to wake, but at my age I'd appreciate a little cooperation.
His arms become a cage as he angles his head to study me as if I’m the alien creature.
“Your scent reminds me of. . .” He lifts a curl from my shoulder, running the strands through his fingertips as if tasting me via touch, and even lifts the lock close to his face to inhale.
He inhales.
I still.
Scent. He'sscentingme.
Nora warned me.
