Page 138 of Fires of the Forsaken
I wiped my watery eyes. “So you like the sound of my voice, huh? Luckily, I enjoy talking.”
“Yes. You do.” A slight tremor ran through his body. His fingers twitched against my arm.
“This is…”too much.And coming at the wrong time. Because if I lost him now, after having tasted his lips, and felt his hands on my skin, I’d have a massive hole punched through my heart.
“My head hurts. I’m lying down.” I flopped against his side, burying my head into his chest, inhaling hisau naturelB.O. musk. Which, for some unfathomable reason, still smelled better than most colognes.
The blows to the head must’ve recrossed some of my wires. Or maybe the horniness had knocked my body out of whack.
“I like you,” I mumbled. “A lot.”
A laugh rumbled through Cheriour’s chest. The sound made my entire body tingle. “And I you,” he said.
“Good,” the word sounded warbled as it left my constricted throat. “We’re on the same page. We’ve got a good thing started here. Don’t die on me. Okay?”
Cheriour curled his fingers through my hair and rested his chin atop my head. He said nothing as he kissed my temple once. Twice.
I exhaled, trying to ignore the way his fever-hot skin burned beneath mine.
39
Byron
On the edge of Lamex, a sizeable distance from the rest of the buildings, sat a hut. It was small—barely taller than Darragh and Jaxon—circular, windowless, and made entirely of stone.
My stomach curdled as Darragh shoved me through the narrow doorway. A candle sat in the center of the dark room, its miniscule flame casting more shadow than light. But I still saw the shackles nailed to the wall.
“Ah, excellent!” Darragh said gleefully. “So, Alexandra’s told him then.”
“Aye, well, Speakers have plenty of eyes in the forest, do they no’?Oi!”Jaxon shouted when I threw myself backward.
The sight of those shackles gleaming in the otherwise dim room created a strange sensation in my chest. A hollow, yet heart-quickening sense of urgency.
I was too weak to fight against two fully grown men. Darragh’s sword pressed into my back. Jaxon yanked on the chains until my wrists screamed in pain. They threw me against the wall, clasping the new shackles in place, ignoring me when I screamed and thrashed.
I was trapped, my hands bound above my head, my feet strapped at an unnatural angle, forcing me to stand on my toes. For the first time, I beseeched my fire to come forth. But when I needed it the most, it had seemingly forsaken me.
“Is this her?” A third man appeared in the room. His deep voice seemed to shake the stone walls of the hut. He stood on my left side. And, as I was pinned to a wall with no room to move, I could not see him. He was simply a blurred figure at the edge of my vision.
“Aye,” Jaxon said. “‘Twas not easy, to get ‘er ‘ere alive. She kept trying to attack us—”
“I didnot.”My lower lip quivered. “You perceived yourself in danger when you weren’t and attackedmeunjustly.”
My words went unnoticed.
“And ‘tis true, Byron,” Jaxon continued. “She is a Firestarter. Like Seruf.”
“She almost killed me.” Darragh thumped the front of his chest, pointing to his ruined tunic.
“Perhaps if you hadn’t struck me, you wouldn’t have been burnt,” I said.
Again, I was ignored.
“Thank you, Jaxon, Darragh,” the blurred figure—Byron—said. “And well done. You may tell Lucia that she’s not to take your coin tonight. Whatever you wish to eat or drink will be free of charge.”
Jaxon and Darragh exchanged smiles.
Hatred burned inside of me as the men left, celebrating the pain they’d inflicted on another human.
