Page 25 of A Kiss From a Revenant
His mouth leaves my breath to kiss down my stomach. Eryx’s wet tongue dips into my navel, and my breathing turns into ragged pants as he kisses across my hip bones.
“All it took was spilling some blood for you to assure you of my devotion. With me, you’ll always be protected—guarded like the treasure you are,” he growls against my trembling skin. “I’ll slaughter every male in this town if you will it—anything to get my cock back into this tight pussy of yours.”
Rising up, he takes his cock into his hand. A shimmering drop of wetness beads at the tip as he lines it up with my entrance. Rubbing himself between my folds, my eyes blur at the sensation. I open my mouth to tell him to take me—to claim me in the light as thoroughly as he did in the dark.
Before I can, there’s a sharp knock at the door. My pleasureshatters like a dropped glass. Eryx holds himself still atop me, head whipping towards the sound. Beyond my pounding heart beat, I can just make out a sound coming from beyond the door—voices—a handful of them overlapping in hushed conversation.
This can’t be good.
Ice coats my veins as my mind immediately drifts to the worst outcome. My plots have been uncovered, and the men of this town have come to take me away to pay for my crimes. Rational finally creeps in as I realize they would’ve broken down the door right by now to haul me off.
Still, I have no appointments this early—whoever is at my door is not here to see a seamstress.
The bed creaks as Eryx rolls off of me and onto the floor. His eyes blaze towards the front room.
“Stay here. I’ll deal with whoever’s out there.”
While I appreciate the sentiment, I’m not in the mood to clean blood off my porch. Besides, this could have a reasonable explanation, and I don’t want him in danger over something I can quickly dispel on my own. Rising from the bed, I catch my breath at the soreness between my legs. I don’t have time to register the stiffness as I reach out and snag Eryx's arm.
“Let me handle it,” I say, shaking my head when he opens his mouth to argue. “Stay hidden back here. Hopefully it won’t come to this, but if things do take a turn?—”
“I won’t hesitate to protect you.”
“I know.”
Pushing up on my toes, I capture his lips. No longer being alone has made me bolder. Whatever waits on that other side of the door will not harm me—Eryx will keep me safe. He deepens our kiss. Our tongues glide together, but before we can get carried away, another barrage of knocks echoes through the house. I sigh, pulling back. Eryx’s gaze is still wary as he glares towards the door.
“I’ll be fine.”
At least, I hope I will.
Quickly, I rifle through my clean clothes and find a simple cotton dress. The green material is thick enough that I forgo a corset and stuff my feet into a pair of soft slippers. Braiding my hair back, I secure it with a ribbon. Staring into the mirror, I’m shocked at the face I see staring back. She doesn’t look like me—her green eyes glow brightly, and there is a permanent flush to her cheeks.
I shake myself and turn away from my appearance. With one more nod towards Eryx, I watch him slink into the shadows of my room. Hustling through the house, I side-step stacks of repaired hems and pants until my hand wraps around the old brass knob. Taking a deep breath, I twist the handle and meet what awaits me on the side.
Gathered on my stoop is a group of ten women—Kindell leads them at the front, dressed in her mourning weeds. Her eyes are clear, no sign of a single tear being shed. I open my mouth, but before I can ask a question, Kindell rushes forward.
Enveloping me in a tight, perfume-scented hug, she rocks me back and forth.
“Thank you—it doesn’t feel like enough, but thank you, Nory.”
Together we stumble into my front room, and the other women follow, shutting my door behind them with a thud. Kindell releases me, and I can take stock of the women now inside my home. A few of them I’ve met over the years to repair their clothes or make alterations for their husbands. There is a variety of ages at play here, too: an aging farmer’s wife with deep wrinkles along her eyes and mouth, dressed in a frayed frock, to a young merchant's bride with a sparkling wedding band and gaunt face.
All of the women look at me with hope in their eyes.
“What’s going on?” I ask, even as I know the answer.
It’s plain as day to see why they’ve all come here. I feel Eryx’s presence in the back room, ready to pounce if necessary. Kindell takes my hand and squeezes it, clearly a spokesperson for this mismatched group.
“Word of my husband'suntimelydemise came early this morning.”
Her words are clipped with no sign of emotion. Not that I can blame her. The memory of her husband’s hands along my body and his lecherous words makes bile churn in my stomach. An awful man—he is where he deserves to be now.
That’s why I don’t even attempt to offer condolences; none of the women seems to mind. The hope in their gazes only intensifies.
“Everyone in this town has been on edge since the livestock started dying. Now with three deaths in the span of three days—a few of the men in town think there’s some sort of killer on the loose.” Icy fingernails rake down my spine, but Kindell merely grins. “Of course, I told them all it was nonsense—that my husband had been foolish to travel alone and I had warned him not to that night in front of many of his friends. Still, they didn’t believe me and seemed intent on launching some sort of investigation.”
Kindell gestures towards the women around here.
