Chapter 5 Nory
NORY
It doesn’t take long for us to arrive back at the cottage.
Eryx's footsteps creak on the old wooden porch. The cold wind whips at my unbound hair and stings my cheeks. Sliding out of his arms, I immediately miss the warmth of his body. Part of me still feels a little off-kilter.
My plan tonight had gone off without a hitch.
Butch was a more than eager participant, as I knew he would be.
It took barely a few minutes of conversation before I had him agreeing to meet me in the alley.
I can still feel his hands on my body—smell the stench of whiskey on his breath as his seeking mouth found purchase on my flesh.
A shiver rocks me, and I push the unsavory memories aside.
He’ll be discovered soon enough, and Isabelle and her children will finally be free.
I don’t regret my actions. Nor do I care that I brought forth his demise.
In fact, I like the hand I played in all of it—far more than I should.
I couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief watching Eryx drain the life from him.
One less evil man is prowling the streets thanks to us.
Finding my keys tucked into the pocket of my cloak, I turn the lock and relish in the familiar click—the old door swings open on groaning hinges, revealing the front room of my house. I can’t help the burning on my cheeks as I take in the disastrous sight.
“You’ll have to excuse the mess.” I step over the worn threshold and deftly kick a stack of fraying trousers out of the walkway. “There’s been no shortage of mendings lately.”
In this moment, I’m acutely aware of the fact that in my twenty-four years of life, I’ve never had a visitor over.
The only people ever in this room besides my mother and me were customers.
Now, I see it through the eyes of a stranger.
The workroom is a riot of different fabrics.
The long wooden work table is weighed down with piles of half-fixed garments.
My needles with their string tails lay strewn across the scuffed mahogany.
Five wardrobes line the walls with their doors removed, showcasing the overflowing dresses hanging inside.
Shifts and stockings lay across the back of an old velvet loveseat.
I’m overwhelmed by the chaos—at the notion that I’ve been living like this for so long, I hadn’t even taken notice.
The only kept area is the small, tidy area along the far wall near the hearth. There lies a sparse bookshelf and an untouched set of chairs arranged around a small circular table. It was meant for meals, but Mother and I always took ours at the work table or ate right in the kitchen.
“I’ll start a fire. The chill may not be bad yet, but it’ll get worse throughout the night.” For some reason, I can’t bear to face him, so I busy myself with other tasks. “There is a small kitchen in the back. A staircase, too, that leads to the bedrooms on the second floor.”
I’m not surprised by the silence that greets me. He’s probably appalled at the mess, which seems ridiculous—he’s a revenant after all—but perhaps they’re neat creatures. The state of his armour and cloak says other ways, but you never know. Speaking of cloaks, I’m itching to take mine off.
Once the fire is roaring and warmth washes over me, I quickly shed my cloak and hang it beside the hearth to dry.
The brilliant scarlet fabric of the dress blazes in the firelight.
I would never usually wear such a garment—the only reason I have it is because a farmer’s wife paid my mother to take it off her hands a few years ago.
The woman’s husband had said it was a sin to wear such a color.
It had been just what I needed tonight, though.
Usually, I stick to drab colors—not only because the fabric is cheaper, but also because attracting too much attention in the Snowlands can be dangerous. There is safety in remaining unseen, especially as a single woman. I had attracted Lord Gunnar’s attention, and look how that nearly panned out.
However, I am not alone now. No, I have given myself to a creature—a monster I’ve watched kill two men right in front of me. Not a monster, I silently correct myself, Eryx—his name is Eryx.
The only living being besides my mother who’s ever looked out for me. And who’s been suspiciously quiet since we’ve arrived.
Turning from the fire, my eyes land on the figure standing just beyond the door. His pale hand is braced on the doorframe. The glow in his eyes has dimmed, and he remains fixed on me. Why has he not come in? If the mess in the room is off-putting to him, he hardly seems to notice.
The intensity of his gaze causes my heart to pound as we continue to stare at each other. After a moment, he shakes himself. The tattered ends of his cloak kiss the door jam.
“You must invite me in,” he rasps, answering my unspoken question. “My magic is fickle and comes with many cumbersome rules.”
“Oh,” I say, blushing once more. “Of course—come in, please.”
His hulking frame prowls through the open door. He has to stoop down in order not to hit his head on the top of the door. Each decisive step makes his armor rattle softly. The ends of his cloak drag across the wooden floors in a whisper of rustling fabric.
The door slams shut behind him, followed by a sharp click of the lock. A metallic scent dances in the air as a reminder of the magical being I’ve given myself to during the duration of this bargain.
Heat from the fire continues to warm me to the point I feel sweat gliding down my spine.
The air around me shifts—turning charged in an instant.
It’s not long before I realize this heat kindling in my body has nothing to do with the fire.
It has everything to do with the Eryx as he approaches me.
Power exudes from him and dances over my body.
The fire in his gaze makes me feel naked in my tight dress, and for the first time in my life, I don’t fear this type of look.
Still, I can’t help but cross my arms over my chest to cover the hardening of my nipples. My body has never responded to another in this way, but no other has ever made me feel the way Eryx has. He has awakened something in me I thought would lie dormant for all time.
His eyes glow in the firelight. The shadows of his face deepen as I watch him scent the air. Eryx’s body drifts closer to mine, and I feel his cloak brush against my booted feet. The scent of night and soil flows into my lungs.
“Are you hungry?” I ask, trying to ease the tension between us somehow. “I have stew—day-old bread that should have kept well. I can—”
“You know very well what sustains me.” His voice is a low growl.
My mouth goes dry. The world around me spins, and I once again question if I’m not under some spell.
I’ve scented his magic before, and I know it isn’t at play here.
I was of sound mind when I struck the bargain—just as I am of sound mind now.
These new revelations have left me reeling, but my curiosity has overcome any sort of trepidation. It’s how I manage to find my voice.
“And are you hungry for that?” I swallow. “For…me?”
His eyes blaze bright. His skin takes on a new sheen, glistening.
He raises a hand and it ghosts over my cheek, making my breath catch.
The featherlight touch makes my whole body prickle with awareness.
The space between my thighs turns wet—needy, seeking.
I have to bite my lip to keep from crying out.
“For centuries, I have lived only as an insatiable appetite.” His fingers play with a lock of my hair. “Yet never have I ever hungered for anything the way I do for you.”
My arms fall away from my chest as I drift closer to him.
The cold, rigid plates of his armor press against my aching nipples, and I bite back a moan.
Eryx hisses at the contact. I should be fearful of him—he is a creature from my worst nightmares.
Instead, all I feel is curious. In his gaze, I can see him so plainly.
This is a lonely creature. Eryx has only known solidarity and instant gratification after gorging himself on blood and corpses.
That is no true existence. I can see the male he longs to be simmering in his eyes, and I can give that to him.
Despite his desire for blood, we are not so different.
I have been adrift in my own lonely existence.
It would be nice to find companionship with another, even if he just so happens to be a revenant.
He protected me, helped me—how many men in this village would’ve done the same?
They would’ve hurt me the first chance they got.
Not Eryx. I believe he’d sooner harm himself than bring about my discomfort.
I trust him—enough to let the last of my inhibition fade at least for tonight.
Extending my hand towards him, I find the tie of his cloak and pull it free. The old fabric drops into an unkempt heap. Without it, the shiny plates of his armor sparkle. Sinew muscles are coiled beneath the metal, and I long to see him fully unclothed. Not yet, though.
Cupping his cheek, my thumb digs into the hollow there. I’ve never touched a man like this before. We are in uncharted territory, and I relinquish myself to it.
“Feed from me.” My voice is steady and clear. “Have me.”
The fire in his eyes reaches a blazing peak.
Eryx understands my meaning. I want him to find completion not just from my blood but my body as well.
I want to tease out this more fragile side to him.
I want to be with the male who only asked for companionship from me—I want to free him from whatever is holding him back.
More than that, I want to free myself too. I’ve been cautious for too long. I will not live the rest of my life in fear. Not when wanton desire flows through my veins and causes wetness to seep from my most feminine flesh.
His thin fingers tease the column of my throat.
“Your blood calls to me. But that is not all I want.”