Page 78 of Right Hand Of The Reaper
“He can eat but he doesn’t need to. He’s actually a really good cook,” I said. “When he can remember he’s cooking.”
“Better find him before he can cause any damage,” Rafe said laughing and we all headed in the direction Thane had headed.
Chapter Thirty-One
Thane
Iwasinthemiddle of rolling up the rug in the middle of the floor when the others joined me. I needed space to draw my sigil to call a soul to me and this sitting room seemed big enough for what I needed.
The only problem was that I needed my scythe to carve it into the floor and I didn’t have it anymore. It was still bound to Roux. Which meant she’d have to do it. I was still powerful without my scythe, unlike Roux. Her power was all tied to her weapon, without it she wouldn’t have death magic. I was built from it. I didn’t need the scythe to channel it, but I did need the scythe to carve the floor.
“Roux?”
“Yes?” she said as she walked towards me.
“Will you carve my sigil into the floorboards?”
She looked confused for a minute, frowning as she craned her neck to look up at me. She was so tiny, and I had the sudden urge to wrap her in my arms and never let go. Wait. That wasn’t my thought. I looked up and found Atticus watching her with concern. His eyes met mine and a flash of awareness ran through them. I needed to figure out how this soul connection was supposed to work but I wasn’t sure I was ready to face it. I knew I’d done it to save him, but I’d also done it for me. There was something I’d seen in him I wanted, and I’d never been possessive over anyone like that before. It was a feral, demanding urge that had me wanting to steal him away and every time I looked at him, I had to battle my own will not to do just that. For someone who never really felt emotions, all these extreme ones were mentally exhausting me. I didn’t know where my emotions ended, and Atticus’ began.
Roux flicked her gaze between Atticus and me, one of her eyebrows curled. “You should talk to him, you know.”
I frowned down at her. “But he’s yours.”
She laughed softly. “He’s not a possession. I don’t own him. He belongswithme. Nottome.”
I must have looked confused because her expression softened, and she laid her hand on my arm. “He’s as lost as you are.”
I caught Atticus’ eyes and, while I didn’t completely understand what I was seeing, I could feel it. Like my stomach was churning and a chill was creeping over my skin. Was that anxiety? Fear? Whatever it was, it was uncomfortable but if that was how he felt because of something I’d done, then I needed to fix that.
I gave her a short nod and strolled over to Atticus, my feet feeling heavy and awkward. He looked up at me with a brightness in his eyes that didn’t match the rest of his expression. Fuck, I needed a crash course in emotions. How was I ever going to navigate this?
I’d suddenly lost all ability to speak. My mouth felt dry, my tongue like sandpaper and fuck, why couldn’t I swallow?
Atticus looked like he was having the same issue. His Adam’s apple was awkwardly bobbing in the column of his throat. I reached out and stroked my finger over the harsh bump of his throat, suddenly fascinated by it. It trembled beneath my finger, and I wondered what it would feel like beneath my tongue.
Atticus wrapped his long fingers around my wrist. “What are you doing?”
“Touching you.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to. You’re really quite… pretty.”
A blush flew across his cheeks and a warm tingly sensation spread through my stomach.
“Um, thank you,” he replied, swallowing again and I think I just found a new obsession. I wanted to feel his Adam’s apple struggle against my cock as I fucked his throat. Nowthathad to be my thought. Unless…
“Are you thinking about me fucking your throat?”
He spluttered and coughed, the blush deepening on his cheeks. “I am now.”
“Do you want me to?”
He looked quizzically at me, his fingers stroking delicately against the sensitive skin of my wrist. I don’t even think he realised he was doing it. “Do you always talk to people like this?”
“No. But I’m not connected by my soul to ‘people’. I figured we’d moved past polite conversation.”
“I can’t decide if you’re flirting with me or threatening me,” he said with a soft chuckle.
