Chapter 015 Nectar and Blood
The next two days on the Thornwood trails were a masterclass in awkward silence.
We walked single file along paths so narrow the branches scraped my arms like they were trying to cop a feel. Distant horns from the Wild Hunt drifted through the canopy-low, mournful notes that made the hair on my neck stand up. Every time they sounded, Thalren's shoulders stiffened ahead of me, and my marks prickled in answer, warm little traitors glowing faintly under my shirt.
Nobody talked much. Xyl tried a couple jokes that died on impact. Zephyran hummed old Petal Court songs under her breath. Vahr flickered in and out of solidity, a glitchy ghost trailing at the rear. Glimm rode on my shoulder, unusually quiet. Even the Chronicler kept his commentary to a minimum, which should have been a relief but somehow felt ominous.
By the second evening, my feet ached, my patience was shot, and the dream-kiss still lived rent-free in my head. I could still taste him-smoke and something sharp, like ozone before lightning. Every time I glanced at Thalren's back, I remembered the way his hands had felt in the dream. Solid. Real. Impossible.
I hated how much I didn't hate it.
The Chronicler finally stopped at the crest of a ridge. "Thornhaven Hollow," he announced, sweeping one arm like a tour guide. "Neutral ground. Markets, taverns, beds that aren't made of dirt. We resupply here."
I peered down into the valley. Lights flickered between massive thorned trees-lanterns strung like Christmas lights gone feral. Music floated up, sultry and loud. My stomach growled. My libido, traitorous bitch, perked up.
"Oh no," I said flatly. "Absolutely not."
"Too late!" Xyl chirped, already bounding down the slope. "I smell honey-mead and bad decisions!"
Thalren didn't say anything. He just started walking.
The tavern was called Nectar Nook. Of course it was.
The moment we pushed through the beaded curtain, the air hit me like a wet towel-sweet, heavy, laced with pollen and spilled liquor. The place was packed. Florakith servers glided between tables: seven feet tall, skin like rose petals layered over muscle, wings shedding golden dust that made the lanterns shimmer. Their clothes were basically suggestions-vines and silk that barely covered the essentials.
A hostess with violet petals for hair swayed toward us. "Intimate booth or exposed table, darlings?"
"Back corner," Thalren said, voice flat. "Exposed."
She pouted but led us to a curved booth against the wall. I slid in last, ending up pressed between Thalren and the wall. His thigh brushed mine. Neither of us moved away.
Drinks appeared fast. Something pink and fizzy for me that tasted like melted candy and regret. Thalren got something dark that smelled like smoke. Xyl ordered a flight of everything. Zephyran smirked and asked for "whatever makes mortals stupid fastest."
The server leaned over Thalren to set down his glass, breasts practically in his face. He didn't blink. Didn't lean in. Just stared straight ahead like she was furniture.
I took a long drink. The fizz burned.
"Pot, meet kettle," I muttered.
He glanced at me. His eyes were darker than usual, the corruption threading a little higher along his jaw. "What?"
"Nothing."
Zephyran laughed into her cup. "Children. Can we have one evening without you two eye-fucking or fighting?"
I flipped her off. She toasted me.
The alcohol hit quick on an empty stomach. Warmth spread through my limbs. The music shifted-something slower, bass-heavy. Bodies moved on the packed dance floor, limbs tangled, pollen drifting like glitter.
I needed air. Or space. Or another drink.
I stood. "Bathroom."
Thalren's hand shot out, fingers closing around my wrist. Not hard. Just... there. "Careful."
I looked down at him. His thumb brushed the inside of my wrist, right over the glowing mark. Heat flared under my skin.
"I've been careful for days," I said. "I'm tired of it."
I pulled free and walked away before he could answer.
The hallway to the bathrooms was dim, scented with crushed flowers. I was halfway there when a guy stepped into my path.
He was tall, lean, with skin like polished bronze and geometric tattoos that pulsed soft blue in time with the music. Handsome in that dangerous way that screams trouble.
"You look like someone who appreciates danger," he said, smiling slow.
I should have kept walking. Instead I smiled back. "You have no idea."
His name was Fenric. He talked smooth-something about the music, the pollen making everything taste sweeter. I let him steer me toward the dance floor instead of the bathroom.
The first song was fast. We moved with the crowd, bodies brushing. His hands settled on my hips, light. Testing.
I didn't stop him.
Second song slowed. His palms slid to my lower back, fingers splaying just above my ass. I tipped my head back, let the alcohol blur the edges. Somewhere across the room, I felt Thalren's stare like a brand.
Good.
Third song. Fenric pulled me closer. One hand drifted up, thumb brushing the underside of my breast through my shirt. His other hand dipped lower, cupping my hip, guiding my movement against his.
I closed my eyes. Told myself it was just dancing. Told myself I didn't care if Thalren watched.
Then the world tilted.
One second I was moving with Fenric. The next, he was gone-slammed into the nearest wall so hard the wood cracked. Thalren had him by the throat, one-handed, feet dangling.
The music didn't stop, but the crowd pulled back fast.
"Touch her again," Thalren said, voice low and lethal, "and I'll feed you to the Root piece by piece."
Fenric choked, tattoos flickering wildly. "I-she-"
Thalren's dagger was out. The Root-touched one, black veins crawling along the blade. He pressed the tip under Fenric's chin.
"His filthy fucking hands on what's-" Thalren cut himself off, jaw clenched so tight I heard it creak.
The corruption surged up his neck, black lines racing toward his cheekbone.
I stepped forward. "Thalren."
He didn't look at me. His free hand moved fast-grabbed Fenric's wrist, slammed it against the wall. The dagger flashed.
The wet sound it made going through flesh turned my stomach.
Fenric screamed. Blood welled around the blade, dripping down the wall in thick rivulets. The dagger pinned his hand like a butterfly.
Thalren leaned in close. "Mine."
Then he turned, grabbed me around the waist, and carried me out the side door like I weighed nothing.
The alley was dark, cool. Smelled like damp earth and spilled mead. He set me down but didn't let go. My back hit rough bark-a tree growing right through the cobblestones.
"What the fuck was that?" I demanded, shoving at his chest.
He didn't budge. His hands caged me against the trunk, corruption still crawling across his skin.
"You let him touch you." His voice was wrecked. "You let him put his hands where-"
"Where yours have been in my dreams every night?" I snapped. "Yeah. I did. Because you won't."
His eyes flashed. "You think I don't want-"
"Then stop pretending you don't!"
He kissed me like punishment.
Mouth crashing against mine, teeth scraping, tongue demanding entry. I bit his lip hard enough to taste blood. He groaned, pressed closer, thigh shoving between mine until I was riding it.
My leg hooked around his hip on instinct. His hand slid under my shirt, palm rough against my ribs, thumb stroking the underside of my breast. The marks flared hot, gold light pulsing between us.
I arched into his touch. "More."
He growled, mouth moving to my neck. Teeth scraped my pulse point, then bit down-not gentle. Marking. Claiming.
"Say it," he rasped against my skin. "Say you're mine."
I fisted his hair, yanked his head back to meet his eyes. They were wild, almost black.
"Yours," I said. The word scraped out raw. "But you're-"
"Yours." He kissed me again, desperate. "Always fucking yours."
His hand cupped my breast fully now, thumb circling until I gasped into his mouth. My hips rolled against his thigh, chasing friction. Bark bit into my back. I didn't care.
I reached for his belt-
"Hunt!" Xyl's shout cut through the haze. "They're through the wards-move!"
Thalren froze. Then pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against mine, breathing hard.
"This isn't over," he said, voice wrecked.
Horns blared-close. Too close.
He grabbed my hand. Our fingers threaded together like they'd been waiting years for it.
We ran.
The group spilled out of the tavern behind us, weapons drawn. Vahr flickered solid long enough to snatch his bow. Zephyran laughed-actually laughed-as we bolted into the night.
Thalren didn't let go of my hand.
My marks glowed steady gold. His corruption had crept higher, black veins kissing his jaw.
We were spiraling toward something inevitable.
I wasn't sure if it would save us or burn us both to ash.
But god help me, I was done pretending I didn't want to find out.