CHAPTER SEVEN
Something cold and wet nuzzled my cheek the next morning, cutting into my sleep. I shifted my face away, ignoring the sensation. But then a tongue started lapping at my nose.
“Valor,” I griped. There was only one Laelap who thought it fair to give me such a wake-up call.
As Chief no longer monitored me like I was a potential threat, his pack mates sometimes paid me visits. Except for the pups—Chief kept them away from me and most others.
I groaned as the dog nudged my shoulder with his muzzle. “It’s not time for me to—”
The morning bell rang outside.
Another groan slipped out of me. I weakly stroked Valor’s head. “Fine. I’m getting up.” He backed away as I shoved aside my blanket and sat upright. Feeling something sticking to my hands, I looked down. Grains of dirt dusted my palms.
I swiped one palm against the other, brushing away the dirt.
Achy from yesterday’s battle, I gingerly stood.
The movement pulled slightly on the gouges that spanned my abdomen.
More slashed across my chest and along my arms. But as I took stock of myself, I noticed that they were all healing well. Really well, in fact.
Valor butted my hand, demanding more strokes.
“Damn, you’re bossy.” I petted him, whispering compliments as I often did, until he eventually decided he’d had enough attention and padded out of the room.
Letting the usual sounds of the stables relax me, I delved into my sack and pulled out my typical outfit—tunic, breeches, and undergarments.
I had more clothes now, since I’d collected extra garments as the days went on.
All were black, aside for my ivory breast bands and the white slips I wore for bed.
With the bundle of fresh clothes tucked under my arm, I grabbed my little hygiene pack and peeked through the doorway.
Nobody was in the aisle, and I didn’t hear anyone pottering around.
Wearing only my slip, I quickly headed to the feed room where I stripped, took care of business, brushed my hair, and then dressed.
Once done, I returned to the tack room and dumped my hygiene pack back in the sack. As for the dirty clothes … I had a separate sack for those. I stashed them quickly, stepped into my boots, cleared all my stuff away as I usually did, and then exited the space.
Striding along the aisle, I smiled at the steed whose head was poking through his window—the same steed Talon rode. “Morning, Xanthos.” I’d learned the names of most of the horses and dogs at this point. “You’re a beauty, aren’t you?”
He let out a little snort.
I paused at his stable, tutting. “Don’t be bashful. We both know it’s true.”
He blew air at me through his nostrils—something I knew was a gesture of affection. An affection I’d only won because I regularly fed him apples that I swiped from the food hall. Something that was our little secret.
I rubbed at his neck. “I’ll bring you some apples later. But remember, you can’t tell anyone.” Catching movement in the corner of my eye, I looked to see none other than Talon fast approaching.
My pulse skittered—always did around him. I stepped away from the stall, which earned me an annoyed grunt from Xanthos. “Good morning.”
Wearing his usual glare, Talon stalked toward me with that lupine grace of his. And then he was right there in my space, his eyes intent on mine. I almost jerked back, unused to him being so close. He gripped my jaw and turned my head, his gaze dipping to the bite on my cheek.
Ignoring how his touch made my pulse speed up, I licked my lips. “As you can see, there’s no black discoloration in the veins around the bite that would indicate an infection.” The ichor had to be responsible for that. “I’m fine.”
He released my face and began edging forwards, forcing me to inch back.
“W-what are you doing?” I asked, even as I kept backpedaling.
He herded me into the tack room and lifted the bottom of my tunic.
With a low squeak, I yanked it down. “What the hell?”
Giving me a bored look, he reached for it again.
I dodged his hand. “I repeat, what the hell?” I was wearing my breast band, so there wasn’t much for him to see, but I wasn’t one for flashing bare skin for no apparent reason.
Regarding me like I was being dramatic—dramatic—he indicated for me to raise my tunic. And then realization dawned: He wanted to check my other injuries.
“I’m not bitten anywhere else,” I said. “I have claw marks, but that’s all.”
His brows inched up slightly in a, Yeah, I’m going to need to see that for myself gesture.
“I’m not infected. If I were, I’d be craving blood by now.”
He only stared at me, his expression implacable. There was a gleam of something in that bored gaze. A dare.
I raised my chin. “You know what? Fine. You want to look, have at it.” I didn’t lift my tunic, though. I whipped it off entirely.
He went still, surprised, his gaze lowering to my upper body. There was some satisfaction in taking him off-guard. But my inner smile faded as heat bled into those night-sky orbs. It was I who then stilled.
He didn’t avert his gaze or turn away as I’d expected. No. He blatantly looked his fill, lazily and brazenly taking in every little detail with a meticulous concentration that made my stomach twist sharply.
Uh-oh.
There was no way he’d fail to notice how little bumps crept up my arms, or miss the nervous tension seeping into my muscles.
I was well-accustomed to him staring at me, but this was different.
He hadn’t before looked at me like this.
Not so intently. Not with such heat. Not with a predatory focus that was as unwavering as it was dark.
The air changed. Felt heavy. Thick. Crackly.
That fast, butterflies took flight in my belly and my blood went hot. Worse—so much worse—my nipples began to harden. I couldn’t hide that from him, since the breast band wasn’t thick.
His eyes flew back to mine and pinned me with a look that rooted me to the spot. A look of such want. Of such unapologetic avarice. At which point a buzzing wave of sexual hunger crashed into me, raw and oppressive.
I stayed still as he began to circle me much as Minos once did. I felt threatened, but not as I had with the Sovereign. This was different. I felt threatened as a woman. Talon’s assessment wasn’t cold and detached, it was a very male appraisal designed to unnerve me.
And it did.
The tension kept on rising. Kept on tautening. Kept on crackling. Until my nerves. Were. Shot.
There was no keeping my breathing even. No calming the frantic beat of my heart. No forcing my muscles to unclench. No dousing the sexual heat racing through me.
Soon, he stood directly before me, the front of his body mere inches from mine. I should tell him to back up. Or leave. Or stop staring.
But I didn’t. There was something heady about having his gaze—so steady, so bold, so piercing—locked on me this way. It demanded my complete attention. He demanded it.
He lifted his hand, his unrelenting stare still seizing mine, and then I felt warm, calloused fingertips dance over a claw mark that skimmed along the slope of my breast.
My stomach tumbled, and my breath caught. Okay, I hadn’t been expecting that.
It was my own fault. I’d pretty much thrown down a gauntlet by attempting to make him feel uncomfortable. He’d merely picked it up and returned the favor.
It was working.
Without breaking our stare out, he dipped those calloused fingers down to ghost over the score marks on my abdomen. He found each one with unerring accuracy. Like he’d memorized their exact location, shape, and length.
I had to remind myself to breathe, a flustering carnal warmth working its way through my blood. Nervousness scraped at my skin and rode the stiff line of my spine. I was surprised my muscles didn’t ache with how tight they were.
It was dumb to want him. Not only because I’d never have him, but because he was more dangerous than any beast that prowled in Reaper’s Pines. My mind and body weren’t in sync when it came to Talon, though.
His hands cuffed my wrists, causing my pulse to jump. Keeping his grip loose, he skimmed his hands up my arms, smoothing over the prickly goosebumps. He turned my arms this way and that, studying the marks there.
“See, no other bites,” I told him, a little break in my voice. I cleared my throat. “You can report to the Sovereigns that I’m resistant to lamiae venom.”
Talon’s gaze snapped back to mine as he lowered my arms to my sides and let his hands slip away.
Disappointment pitched itself in my gut.
Not that I’d expected anything interesting to happen.
I was very aware that he never sexually tangled with candidates.
Here and now, he’d simply been teaching me a lesson.
He took the tunic from me and slipped it over my head … just as I heard footfalls approaching.
Jelani strode into the room and skidded to an abrupt halt. “The hell?”
“Uh …” I slipped my arms through the sleeves of my tunic, biting my lip.
I knew how this looked. Talon had to know how it looked. Did he back up? No. Did he react at all? No. He slowly straightened my tunic, smooth and casual—not giving the first fuck that we had company. He didn’t even acknowledge Jelani’s presence.
His eyes once again meeting mine, Talon took a lazy step back that barely even scraped the edge of my personal space … like he had every right to be in it. He then turned away and strode out of the room, cool and calm.
Jelani stepped aside, giving him room to pass, and resettled his attention on me.
I scratched my forehead. “It wasn’t what it looked like. He just wanted to check that I hadn’t been bitten anywhere else.”
Jelani arched a doubtful brow. “He didn’t check me.”
“You’re not mortal. He won’t have the concern that just maybe a lamiae bite could infect you. He had to be sure that I was no threat to anyone here, and he’d also need to be able to tell the Sovereigns if the venom impacted me.”
“True,” muttered Jelani. “Anyway. Breakfast?”
“Breakfast.”