11
“Who are you?”
Izgath demanded, eyes dropping away from my face. Stunned, I remained rooted in my place, and only when he cleared his throat did I realize that my breasts were fully exposed to him. I clutched the tunic to my chest protectively, sinking deeper into the water to hide my body.
“Where is Vagach?”
he pressed, his expression hardening as his lips curved into a frown.
“Who is Vagach?”
I squeaked out, trying to feign ignorance.
“A male Demon who wandered this way not too long ago in search of a chance to bathe,”
he stated, the flatness in his tone causing my heart to skip a beat. One hand tightened over the frond, pressing it down as his other hand drifted to his side, likely going for the knife strapped there. “If you don’t tell me what you did with him right now, I’ll have no choice but to drag you out of the water and before my Százados.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,”
I protested, taking a half-step backward. The other side of the riverbank wasn’t far, but the waist-deep water would certainly hinder any rapid movement.
“Don’t lie to me,”
Izgath threatened, inching forward. I glanced at his position, then risked a flick of my eyes to the side, toward the nearest break in the reeds. Without hesitating, I lunged, keeping one hand on my shirt and the other grasping for the greenery.
Water splashed behind me, and adrenaline spiked in my veins. Yanking myself through the water, I made it past the first bush and desperately shoved my feet against the sandy underbed. Izgath and I tore through the rushing water, but my legs were heavier than gold and panic overtook me as the splashes behind me grew more violent.
With a mighty shove, I leaped forward, grasping for the next set of reeds in an attempt to pull myself along again. Just as my hand closed around it, another closed around my ankle. My grip broke instantly as Izgath dragged me backward, and I barely managed to draw a breath before I slipped underwater.
In an instant, I was above it again with a large hand wrapped around my upper arm. Izgath spun me to face him, dripping and red-faced. “You shouldn’t have run. That only makes you look guilty.”
The water only hit him mid thigh, and I struggled in his grip as we trudged back to the opposite side.
“Let me go!”
I protested again, trying to yank my arm from his grip.
Izgath stopped mid-river and spun me to face him, so that my shoulders were crushed between his large hands. He cocked his head to the side, studying me, and somehow my fear slipped away as if it were a droplet in the water. Desire rose in its place as I was captivated by garnet.
“I could have been nice and gentle, sweetheart, but you had to run,”
he purred.
In a flash of clarity, I realized he was using his Incubus magic on me. Gritting my teeth, I bucked, kicking my feet out and finding purchase on his thighs while my back arched away from him. The move surprised him, and his grip loosened along with a curse.
I wasted no time kicking my legs, propelling myself downstream and away from Izgath. I left the shirt behind, too focused on escape to care that I’d be stark naked when I managed it. Checking over my shoulder, I tried to gauge the distance between us.
But Izgath was nowhere to be found.
A heartbeat later, I was yanked from the flow and into the dripping arms of Izgath. A scream tore from my throat, and I thrashed again, trying to free myself. With one foot braced on the riverbank and one in the water, he maneuvered me onto land before depositing me roughly on the grass.
“Keep screaming and the Százados will be here sooner,”
he purred, and desire rose through me again.
I glanced around, trying to find another means of escape, but Izgath’s sodden boot pressed into my hand, applying just enough force to keep me still without breaking it.
“I’m going to ask you one more time. Where is Vagach?”
Izgath towered over me, blocking my view of anything but him. His eyes perused my form, sending a shiver of want straight to my core. I whimpered as he applied more pressure to my hand but kept my lips pressed firmly together.
“Fine, I’ll let the Százados force it out of you,”
he hissed, reaching down to grab me. “Then he’ll probably let the whole camp fuck you. It’s been weeks since we’ve seen a female.”
Izgath’s threat shocked life back into me. “Izgath, no, wait!”
He froze, hand hovering over my neck. “How do you know my name?”
“I’m Vagach,”
I whispered, tears pricking my eyes as the truth slipped out.
This is it, this is my end.
Teeth clenching, he hissed, “Explain.”
Sucking in a steadying breath, I said, “My magic allows me to wear anyone’s form. So I am Vagach.”
“And how long have you been Vagach?”
Izgath asked, fingers flexing almost imperceptibly.
Fuck, he wouldn’t let me twist my words around the truth.
“A few weeks,”
I answered, heart rate ratcheting up to where I thought I might pass out.
“Were you Vagach on the day we arrived in Stryi?”
he pressed.
I wanted to scream as he prevented yet another escape through words. More weight pressed into my hand, and I stifled a yelp. I didn’t want to bring Jaku running when I was naked and helpless. Something stretched between Izgath and me, even before he caught me in the river, and if I could exploit whatever that was, maybe he’d keep my secret.
“No,”
I gritted out.
Think, Assyria, think! You know how to survive this.
“That’s what I thought,”
Izgath scoffed, looking down his nose with a mix of disgust and suspicion. “There was something off about you this entire time. I couldn’t figure out what it was, but it all makes sense now.”
Despite Izgath’s current hostility, he had a kindness that was unshakable even after battling for his life on the front. His sibling died in the plague too, and even though he hadn’t explicitly voiced his pain, it ran as deep as my own loss. Perhaps I could pull on those strings and convince him to spare me.
“Please, Izgath, don’t let them torture me,”
I begged, tears spilling over and racing to the soft earth. My chest heaved, and Izgath’s eyes flicked to my breasts before dragging back to my face. “I’m not ready to join my sister in a different world. I never got to live in this one.”
He cocked his head to the side. “Your sister?”
“She died in the plague too,”
I murmured, a wave of grief rising and adding to the tears already leaking from me. “I lost my whole family.”
A hint of tension bled from his frame, and his open hand curled into a fist before returning to his side. He straightened, then leaned weight off his foot. I didn’t dare move with this tenuous peace stretched between us.
“But not Vagach?”
he clarified.
I shook my head, refusing to shiver under the intensity of his gaze and the breeze that dusted through the trees. “He–he abused me. Beat me. Forced himself on me.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and attempted to force the memories far, far away. “He wanted me pregnant and was angry I’d been unable to bear him a child.”
A flash of his glassy, lifeless eyes reflecting a ruby pool filling my mind. If I was revealing this much, I might as well continue, especially as my words seemed to be shifting Izgath’s anger into something that looked a lot like sympathy. “I snuck out of our home to see what was happening in Stryi. But he returned home before I did, and he was waiting for me when I returned. I–I killed him when he attacked me.”
I left Olrus out of the story, wanting to protect the old Demon.
“In self defense,”
Izgath said, his tone flat.
I stared straight into his garnet eyes so he could see the seriousness of my words. “In self defense,”
I repeated.
“That is the only way you’ll survive being burned alive for killing the only remaining member of a noble house,”
Izgath warned, like I didn’t already know what the punishment for such a crime was. But with my burgundy eyes, they might make an exception—though that alternative, at least to me, was worse than death.
I merely nodded.
Sighing, he extended his hands in an offering to help me up. I grasped them and allowed him to pull me to my feet, resisting the urge to cover myself. “So you’re not going to tell anyone?”
“No. But I want your name, your real name, in exchange,”
Izgath said, his voice soft and silky. I wondered for a moment if he was using his magic on me again to get me to comply, but I didn’t feel a rising desire in a situation that did not warrant it.
I looked up at him through wet lashes and whispered, “Assyria.”
“Assyria,”
he repeated, and the way my name rolled off his tongue sent goosebumps skittering across my skin. I hoped he couldn’t see my body’s response in the dim light. “Well, Assyria, let’s get you clothed and back to a male before anyone else comes looking and decides not to be as kind as I am.”
“Thank you,”
I choked out, wrapping my arms around myself this time, as if I could protect myself against the possibility that Izgath could be lying.
In a move that should not have been as alluring as it was, Izgath yanked his tunic over his head and handed it to me. “Wear this until we return to your bag.”
It was drier than I expected it to be as I pulled it overhead, with only a line around the waist damp from our encounter in the river. Izgath’s eyes flashed with something that looked a lot like desire when the hem settled over my mid-thigh. My nipples poked through the thin fabric, but I was warmer than I had been lying on the ground.
“Let’s go,”
he commanded, sweeping his hand out to indicate I should walk ahead of him. I couldn’t blame him. I did try to run mere minutes before. So I strolled forward, conscious of the way the fabric brushed against my body with every step and of the heat that traced my backside as if he could still see the curves that hid underneath. I swayed my hips more than necessary as I approached part of the riverbank that I thought might allow for a quick jump across to my previous spot. When I bent forward to pull the reeds apart, a choked sound escaped Izgath.
A part of me that I never knew existed preened under his attention, and as I was already feeling reckless, I made sure to slide his tunic from my body with the slowness of a stretching cat and toss it with a glance over my shoulder.
“What are you–”
he started, but then I slipped back into the water, wading across and brushing the dirt from my body at the same time. A splash sounded behind me a moment later, Izgath joining me in crossing.
Dripping, I pushed through the tall greenery on the opposite bank and found my drying clothes and bag right where I had left them. The fires burned brighter in the distance now that the sun had all but disappeared from the sky. Izgath’s form was nothing more than a break in the shadows when he emerged.
The way his abs dipped into his pants still caught my eye.
The way his eyes roamed over my naked body did not go unnoticed either.
Whether it was his Incubus magic, the lack of female companionship, or that Izgath was truly attracted to me, I stupidly welcomed it.
I’d never been with anyone besides Vagach, and the thought of sharing my body with another both excited and terrified me. Priestess Anara had warned us many times about Incubi, but I was becoming a new, different person, and the Weaver had put me on this path for a reason. Perhaps Izgath was part of that.
“We should get going,”
Izgath said, his voice strained and hoarse. He tore his gaze to my face, and then his brows dipped. “You have burgundy eyes.”
I quirked a brow. “Too distracted by the rest of me?”
A slow grin spread across his lips. “You have very nice features, Assyria. Including your eyes.”
Water dripped from the tips of my hair and landed on my lower back as I stepped forward. “Are you going to tell anyone about these nice features?”
I offered him my most saccharine smile.
“I told you already I wouldn’t,” he swore.
Closing the remaining distance between us, I flattened my hand on his bare chest. Heat bloomed where our skin touched. “Good.”
I gave him a light shove and spun on my heel. In three strides I was pulling on the only clean and dry clothes I had left in my bag. Without turning around, I pulled on the smoky strands of my magic and became Vagach again, though this time, my hair was shorter and the stubble I’d tried to mix into my appearance that morning was gone.
“Ready?”
I asked, voice deeper once again. Fates, how much I missed the sound of my own voice. Soon, I’d be able to slip away and wouldn’t have to pretend to be my abusive dead husband anymore.
But would that even be possible now that Izgath knew the truth?
“I’ll follow you,”
Izgath replied, smoothing a hand over his hair.
I slipped on my boots and scooped up my drying clothing. Then, without another word, I made my way back to the camp, Izgath walking in silence alongside me. I trusted what he said about not revealing my identity, but my breath remained lodged in my chest until I’d dumped my belongings into my tent and grabbed a plate of roasted meat and boiled potatoes for dinner. Izgath disappeared into his tent, only a dozen or so paces from mine, as soon as we returned. Satisfied that he would not reemerge, I ate alone, shoveling as much food into me as I could before retiring for the night.
As I drifted off to a fitful sleep, my mind tumbled over all the ways Izgath’s knowledge could affect my future, and what the Fates truly had in store for me.