Page 32 of Clash of Storms
Her lips were so close to his.
He could almost taste her breath.
"Don't tell me you're frightened of me? You, with your brash defiance and your declaration I'm the lastdrekiany woman would mate?"
"I'm not frightened of you," she shot back. Then she paused, as if perplexed. "You haven't hurt me. Yet."
"Hmm, then go ahead and tell me you're not attracted to me."
"I'm not...."
"Yes?" he whispered, a smile curling over his lips as he kicked his horse into a walk. "Having difficulty saying it? I wonder why? I wonder... whether it's that slight problem our kind have with lying."
"You're the very lastdrekiI'd ever welcome into my bed!"
Not a lie. His smile faded.
"Then I guess you will never know. Tell me, sweetheart... are you warm yet?"
7
When they stopped for the night, it took Sirius a matter of moments to set a fire and create a makeshift spit for the goose he'd shot down.
Flame was not his natural element, though he could wield it if he had to. Rumor had it the exileddrekiprince, Rurik, could actually breathe fire in his natural form. The ability was rare, and dangerously potent in battle.
Squatting in front of the fire, Sirius held his hands out to warm them, and realized his captive was silent.
Her big brown eyes reflected the firelight, and she was huddled in his fur cloak so tightly, all he could see was her nose and the top part of her face. Malin kept the fire between them, probably to give herself some semblance of safety, though he could have done anything he wished to her at any time during the day if he'd wanted to. Something he refrained from pointing out to her, because he wasn't sure she'd take it the way he meant it.
Her unease was almost palpable, especially after he'd taunted her this afternoon. His lips pressed tightly together. Imagine the shock on her face if he told her what she meant to him.Drekimalesalwaysknew before the females did.
But how many males had never dared stake their claim for fear their mates would despise them forever?
Or was he the first?
Their eyes met.
"What is it now?" he barked. Kneeling closer to the fire, he set the meaty goose he'd plucked over the flames.
He'd taken it down with a single shard of ice—spearing it through the goose's heart with a thought. It died instantly, slamming into the hard, frostbitten ground.
Malin had been quiet ever since, as though the shock of his power startled her.
That's right, my love.
They don't call me the Blackfrost for no reason....
"This quest of yours doesn't make any sense," Malin blurted. "I cannot understand why you're doing this—any of this."
"This?"
"You let the princess go."
"I told you. I don't particularly wish to mate with Árdís, and letting her go at the time was the best solution I could think of."
"But why would you not want her?" Malin blurted.
Why him?He glared at her balefully. "Why is it you females always ask this question? Why can you not simply accept I have no wish to mate with the princess?"
