16. Chapter 16
16
Nelle
I flung the adjoining door open.
I didn’t know what I was expecting to find in there, but it wasn’t this.
Graysen Crowther.
My fury sparked, and I was opening up my mouth to roar at him to get the hells out, when I realized what he wasn’t wearing.
My mouth gaped.
My anger sputtered out.
Confusion and embarrassment and desire swept through me with the ferocity of wildfyre, threatening to incinerate me from the inside out.
Graysen was standing in the middle of the bedroom, shirtless.
Every angry thought eddied out of my head and I wasn’t sure if I even remembered my name as he paused sliding a t-shirt on. One eyebrow quirked at me, and his nostrils flared a moment before his mouth curved into a delicious smile. “Didn’t take you long to change your mind.”
I knew he was speaking, but for some godsforsaken reason, I couldn’t quite grasp what he was saying.
Holy Skalki!
I’d never seen Graysen shirtless before. Ever. I’d only seen the tattoos that webbed across his golden-bronze skin, down exposed arms or winding up his throat. I’d been aware of House Crowther’s insignia that branded the flesh above his heart, and I’d felt it for the very first time when I teased him out on the patio and spread my hand over his chest, but I’d never actually seen it. Just before he pulled down the tight t-shirt—a name of a band only he knew scrawled across the front—I glimpsed a writhing serpent woven into the coils of ink scoring his flesh .
I swallowed thickly.
Graysen’s entire torso was muscled steel, smooth but for the triangle of dark hair that dipped below his belt line.
My eyes startled wide as I saw the unmistakable ridgeline in his pants growing thicker— Gods, he has a hard-on!
“Get your fill, little bird,” he smirked. He adjusted his crotch, gifting me a wink.
My cheeks flushed, and I made a pffting noise, followed by a muttered, “As if.”
I tore my gaze from the hard-on pressing against his pants to dart about the room. Safer, much safer, to look anywhere else but him. I wasn’t really seeing anything, though. Not the leather and redwood armchair where his saddlebags sat unzipped—a glimpse of neatly folded clothes—and three garment bags hanging from where he’d hooked them over the edge of the bathroom door. I didn’t see the large bed, adorned in soft greens, nor even the original Klimt painting I suddenly realized I’d been staring blankly at.
“Wychthorn?”
I slowly blinked, trying to mentally shake the image of that honed chiseled body away. Gods, what would it be like to touch that bare chest, the ripple of abs—
“I… uh … ah… ” My tongue darted out to wet my lower lip.
“Wychthorn?”
What am I doing here?
What…am…I…doing…here?
The power deep inside me rumbled, chuckling with mirth.
And so too was Graysen, I realized, as my dazed gaze swiveled back to him. He wasn’t laughing out loud, but his black eyes were sparkling with amusement as if he could easily read my messy, tangled thoughts.
Clearing my throat, I sucked in a cleansing breath— Get it together Nelle, the guy humiliated you less than five minutes ago— and rallied my scattered pride.
I arched an imperious brow, shifting my weight to one hip, and coldly asked, “What are you doing here?” Then I frowned, noticing his cheeks were bare of scratch marks, and the knife wound I’d inflicted on his forehead earlier was gone—as if it had never been there. And then I realized he’d changed from his suit into black pants that hugged muscular legs. The leather material was cut in a way that was reminiscent of fish scales, and there were daggers strapped to the outside of his calf-high boots.
“Isn’t it obvious?” he replied, reaching for a jacket, tugging it on and zipping it up. The jacket matched his pants—sheathing him like a second skin. What he wore was akin to motorcycle leather, but it was armor. I could see the glint of adamere threaded through the soft material.
Sage padded to my side. The wraith-wolf gave an aggravated huff of annoyance, fixing his silvery eyes on Graysen. I folded my arms across my chest. “What are you doing in the room right next to mine?”
He cocked his head and braced his large hands on his hips. There was a defiant line to his body. “I’m staying. That’s my right, isn’t it? A full weekend of celebrations. The Pellans are here, the Reskas soon enough.” He gave a soft, vicious snarl. “Besides, there’s no way I’ll allow Danne- fucking -Pellan near your quarters. If that’s what you’re intending to do—sneak him in there.”
I wasn’t. But he didn’t need to know that. And besides, why was he so uppity about Danne? Was it because he was a Pellan or was it because Graysen had some stupid idea in his head he could dictate who I could and could not see? My gaze narrowed—he was an arrogant prick who thought he could mess with me.
Godsdammit, he’s really good at messing with me.
He flicked his head, his unruly locks swept across his forehead. His eyes sharpened as his gaze drifted downward, and his mouth curled into a wicked smile. I felt his heated interest like a tangible caress that feathered down the length of my spine.
Why is he looking at me like that?
Glancing down, I found the front of my robe gaped wide and revealed the low-scooped neckline of my nightie clinging to my breasts. I pulled the robe’s material together, retying the belt tighter while cursing myself under my breath— Fuckity fuck, fuck, fuck!
“Pretty,” he grinned, then turned away and strode to the mahogany table set up beneath the outside window. It was my turn to sweep my hungry gaze all over his body. Gods, his armor hugged that ass just right. Despite the fact I didn’t like him, I liked the look of his ass a lot. And now I’d discovered that lean, muscled chest…
The memory of us both tangled together on my bed had me gnawing on my bottom lip, trying to stifle the warmth rushing through my insides, winding lower.
Godsdammit!
This is not a good idea, Nelle. At. All.
I blew out a breath, steeling my resolve. There was a reason why I called him the Lord of Darkness. The guy was a fucking asshole.
He fished about in the worn and battered leather weapons bag sitting on the table and pulled a sheathed sword from its depth. He strapped it to his back, twisting around to face me .
A cold sensation swept through me, dousing all the heat he’d inspired. I blinked. “You’re going hunting?”
“We need a tithe for the Horned Gods,” he said, belting a bandoleer fitted with deadly knives across his chest. His fingers deftly buckled and tightened the straps.
“What are you hunting?” What would need all those weapons to bring it down?
This weekend wasn’t only a party announcing the engagement between Evvie and Corné. The Houses would come together for the Horned Gods’ blessing. It had been our way, since the beginning of our servitude, that at every announced betrothal, the Horned Gods would bestow their blessing upon the union. And in exchange, every single House would offer a tithe—either a mortal or something else.
As Graysen moved toward the center of the room, the various blades buckled to his body caught the golden glow dripping down from a brass chandelier hanging above. Reflected light skittered against my skin and struck the pale green walls in a shifting pattern like the turning of a kaleidoscope. He shrugged, muscles straining beneath the leather scales of his armor. “A bit of an overkill. But it’s better to be prepared.” He winked at me. “Who knows? Something might hunt me.” He grinned then, wide and full of mirth, and his eyes gleamed as if laughing at a private joke.
My nose scrunched. Not understanding whatever amused him.
I hadn’t even noticed I’d drifted closer until his body heat licked against mine and his scent of cedar and hints of leather and smoke washed over me. The sword strapped to his back. The hilt, peeking over one shoulder, was impressive, and I was curious. I reached around him, intrigued by the sword’s hilt. A wyrm decorated the pommel, and the off-white material was unusual, not steel or adamere, but something else. Bone, I realized, as my fingers spread to touch the pommel. And just as I hesitated, feeling how wrong the sword was, his large hand wrapped about my wrist, stopping me.
“Don’t. It’s cursed.”
My gaze sliced to his. Cursed, how? House Simonis specialized in all manner of curses. But this sword felt ancient. Older, much older than when our forefathers started experimenting with magic and weaponry. “What is it made from?”
“Wyrmbone.”
My eyebrows flicked up in surprise. I knew his ancestors had tamed wyrms, but those wild and savage beasts had died out a long, long time ago.
I wanted to ask more about his sword, but his rough thumb pad, stroking my inner wrist back and forth, distracted me. It wasn’t a casual touch. It had purpose. He was massaging a spot that made my breath catch in my throat and my blood thrum.
Gods, what is he doing to me?
You like it— rasped the creature deep inside.
Like hells, I do!
I snatched my hand from Graysen and scowled, whirling around and stomping away from the temptation he inspired in my body. I felt hot and cold all at once. With every heavy step, I reminded myself why Graysen Crowther wasn’t a good idea. The guy was mean. An asshole. An arrogant prick. He liked to push my buttons and basically was a brooding and sullen jerkass.
I got as far as the adjoining door when I heard his approach. The heat of his body caressed mine. I spun around, finding him right in my space. I had to crane my neck to glare up at him. “Don’t you dare think you can enter my bedroom. You keep your mean ass out.” But behind my back I was rubbing my wrist, trying to remove the scorching sensation on my skin. He rested a forearm against the doorframe beside my head. He stared at me with a piercing gaze and a smug smile that rounded those high cheekbones a fraction and made my heart pulse faster.
His smile only grew wider, as if he knew exactly what I was doing behind my back, and why I was doing it. “Oh, I’ll be coming inside,” and he emphasized the word ‘coming’ in a way that had my mouth falling open and my eyes flaring wide, “and what’s more, you’ll invite me to.”
Wait … huh?
Before I could even spit out a curse at him, he pushed off and strode away with that lazy, arrogant swagger, only to pause at the threshold of the guest room and turn back. His tone was colder than mine had been, laced with menace, softened by a smile. “Be seeing you, little bird. Don’t do anything while I’m gone that will…Fuck. Me. Off.”
I stared at the door he’d left open, hearing his heavy footfall down the hallway fade away, wondering how I was going to get through this weekend with him sleeping in the room beside mine.