Chapter 12 #3
The water embraced her as she glided toward him.
She stopped close.
Very close.
“What are you doing?”
“I just wanted you to see better.”
His throat tightened.
“Do you like what you see?”
Ulric clicked his tongue and looked away.
“Just some demon magic…”
“And yet…”
She leaned back, floating effortlessly. Lantern light danced across her form, highlighting the lines of her fit, warrior-like body.
“…you can’t seem to stop looking at me.”
Green eyes lingered on her.
She gasped softly, teasing.
“Did the Inquisitor finally find his match?”
“Do you do that with every man you come across?”
She laughed as she stood.
Water cascaded slowly down her form as she stepped closer.
She bit her lip.
Her hand lifted.
A delicate motion.
Red sigils formed in the air.
Soft, glowing symbols drifting toward him.
But they stopped.
Hovering.
Unable to bind.
For the first time—
Her composure cracked.
Ulric looked at her.
Then he laughed.
She blinked.
Surprised.
“You’re not the only one with tricks, demon girl.”
She stared at him, clearly confused.
“But… you want me. I should be able to—”
“Bind me?” he finished calmly. “Well… you should be able to. But my soul is no longer mortal… different rules apply.” He leaned slightly back, watching her. “Besides… you wouldn’t want me to do what’s on my mind right now.”
A small gasp escaped her lips.
Her silver eyes brightened.
“Why is that?”
His gaze darkened.
“You might not walk for a while.”
She visibly shivered.
A slow breath left her lips.
Then she stepped even closer.
Close enough that the warmth between them felt heavier than the water itself.
“Can I… massage your shoulders?”
“As long as you don’t play any games with me.”
She nodded softly.
A small smile tugged at her lips.
“I’ll be a good girl.”
She moved closer and gently straddled him, settling lightly on his lap.
Ulric visibly relaxed.
Her hands moved to his shoulders.
It was exquisite.
Her touch.
Firm where his muscles were tight, soft where tension lingered.
She smiled faintly.
“Is this okay?”
He hummed quietly in approval.
For a moment, the only sound in the alcove was the soft trickling of water and their slow breathing.
Then he chuckled.
His eyes still closed.
“What is it?” she asked softly.
Ulric opened his eyes.
He saw her clearly now.
The braid draped over her shoulder.
Silver eyes catching the lantern light.
Soft cheekbones.
Lips that seemed to hold a permanent, teasing curve.
“You’re the ultimate temptation, girl.”
She smiled. Beautifully.
“You’re giving me mixed messages. A while ago you wanted to bash my face in if I touched you…”
Ulric sighed quietly.
“Sorry for that. Old habits. I wasn’t expecting…”
“Expecting what?”
He looked at her.
“Perfection.”
She went still.
“You don’t mean that…” she murmured, almost blushing.
Ulric tilted his head slightly.
“Are you calling me a liar?”
“If I do, what will you—”
She didn’t finish.
His hands moved.
Fast.
One hand firmly caught her arms behind her back, locking them in.
The other caught her braid, tilting her head slightly back, baring the smooth line of her throat.
A soft gasp escaped her lips.
She trembled.
He leaned closer, voice low.
“I’ve never seen such beauty. Your voice… your scent… the way you move…”
Her breathing deepened.
Her hips shifted slightly against him.
“I’m using every ounce of my willpower not to drown myself completely in you.”
A faint shiver ran through her.
“Then… why don’t you?” she whispered.
“I don’t do that on the first date.”
He released her.
She blinked.
He blinked too.
Even he seemed surprised at his own words.
He lifted her easily, setting her gently to his side before rising to his feet.
She remained in the water.
Quiet now.
Then softly—
“You can grab me like that again… soon.”
Ulric didn’t answer.
He was already walking toward the adjoining chamber, trying to steady himself… and forget how close he had come to loosing himself.
Days passed.
He did not speak about that night.
Neither did she.
Aldric was still recovering.
Each day he would wake for a short while, drink something, say a few words, then drift back into sleep. His body still fighting whatever damage the splinter had caused.
Ulric remained tense throughout the first day.
By the third, he began to grow used to her calm, soothing presence.
However—
She was always close.
Almost every day.
He tried to ignore it.
He tried.
And failed.
Again and again.
At night, they would share demon wine.
Mostly in silence.
The warmth of the fire. The soft glow of lanterns. The quiet between them.
And then—
One evening, she reached for something on a high shelf.
She bent forward, resting her knees lightly against the dresser as she stretched upward.
He stopped what he was doing.
And looked.
She moved slowly.
Her legs close together.
Her hips raised.
Leather shorts hugging her perfectly.
Heels.
Her exposed thighs.
A tight top clinging to her back.
Pure perfection.
Her head turned slightly.
“Enjoying the view?”
He sighed.
“Why do you do this?”
“Do what?”
He gestured vaguely.
“This. You look so…”
“Yes?” she encouraged softly. “Finish your sentence.”
He hesitated.
“…tasty.”
She giggled.
“Tasty?”
She jumped down gracefully, landing like an acrobat.
Her long, toned legs straightened.
His jaw tightened.
“Yes,” he admitted quietly. “Ever since I came here.”
She stepped closer.
Silver eyes looked up at him.
“Is that how they teach you to flirt where you’re from?”
“Well—”
He faltered.
She smiled.
“You’re so sweet when you get flustered.”
Her hand rested gently in his.
His fingers tightened slightly around hers.
She shivered.
His thumb brushed slowly across her knuckles, rough skin against warm softness.
“So… do you find me pretty?”
He sighed softly.
“Lirith… please…”
“Please what?”
“Once Aldric gets better… we need to leave.”
“Why?”
Silence.
She stepped even closer.
“Why do you need to leave?”
He didn’t answer.
“Tell me… does this feel right?”
She pressed herself against him, and looked up.
He hummed quietly.
Nodded.
“…Yes.”
“Then why do you keep fighting it?”
“I—”
“Yes?”
“I’m just… lost.”
She turned gently.
“Come.”
She offered her hand.
He took it.
Then immediately after shifted the grip so his hand guided hers instead.
She giggled.
“Always have to be in control?”
He looked down at her.
His jaw tightened, but there was a flicker of heat in his green eyes.
“You don’t strike me as someone who listens unless she’s made to.”
Her smile widened slowly.
“Oh… so you would punish me.”
“Lirith… please…”
“Please what?”
“You’re relentless.”
They sat on soft cushions in a small alcove of her lair, warm lantern light flickering gently across the stone walls.
She smiled lazily.
“Well, I’m sorry… but you’re my type. And I know nothing about you.”
He looked at her.
“There’s nothing to know. I’m just a knight who became an Inquisitor. Battle and war is all I do.”
“Did,” she corrected softly.
Before he could respond, she shifted.
She straddled him.
Leaned forward.
Her elbows rested lightly on his shoulders.
Her hands gently grazing through his hair.
Her face close.
Very close.
“Gods… I love how you keep resisting…”
He looked at her.
Silent.
She smiled.
“You know I’ll need to feed soon…”
His throat worked.
She smiled wider.
Then she leaned forward and kissed his nose.
Just barely.
“Aww… are you getting embarrassed?”
Silence.
Her perfect white teeth flashed in a teasing smile.
“I feel you underneath… you have nothing to be shy about. Trust me.”
He cleared his throat quietly.
Warmth creeping up his neck.
“What do you want to know?”
She perked up instantly.
Everything playful.
Curious.
Alive.
“I just want to get to know you…”
A soft kiss to his forehead.
Ulric exhaled slowly, his hands resting on her hips without really thinking about it.
“The earliest memory is of my father…” he began, voice low, distant, “he used to command halls filled with nobles. People waited for him to speak. They watched him. Respected him.”
Her fingers moved slowly through his hair, encouraging him to continue.
“But it started slipping. One deal failed. Then another. Debts piled up. Alliances fell apart. Friends stopped visiting.” His jaw tightened slightly.
“I remember the silence most. The house got quieter. Servants left. Rooms closed. My mother stopped smiling. She spent most of her days in her chamber.”
She leaned closer, her cheek brushing his temple.
“And you?” she asked softly.
“I trained.” He gave a small, humorless smile. “It was the only thing that made sense at the time. I didn’t want to be home.”
Her thumb brushed his stubble.
“So you joined the Order.”
He nodded.
“I lied about my age. Barely old enough to hold a sword properly… but I was stubborn. Angry. Hungry.” A faint warmth crept into his voice.“That’s where I met Aldric.”
Her lips curved slightly. She could already hear the fondness.
“He beat me on the first day.”
She smiled.
“Oh?”
“Knocked me flat on my back. Then offered me a hand. Said I held the blade wrong.”
“And you hated it?”
Ulric shook his head slightly.
“No…” He exhaled. “We trained together. Fought together. Ate together. When one of us got into trouble… the other followed. He became my family.”
She traced slow circles against his shoulder.
“You trusted him.”
“With my life.”
Silence settled for a moment.
“Years passed. Campaigns. Skirmishes. Blood. Loss. We survived it all.”
His expression darkened slightly.
“And then… after the last campaign a decade ago…”
His hands tightened unconsciously on her hips.
“The orders came.”
Her voice softened.
“The Inquisitorial Rite…”
He nodded.
“They selected both of us, but Aldric was wounded. Badly. Fever. Broken ribs. He couldn’t even stand.”
Ulric’s gaze drifted somewhere distant.
“So I went alone.”
Her fingers slid gently along his jaw.
“That must have been difficult.”
She kissed his nose again.
Then his forehead.
Then his lips.
Delicate.
Gentle.
He stilled.
“Losing your friend like that…” she whispered.
He exhaled slowly.
Her fingers traced along his stubble. Her touch was soft, almost reverent. The wine, the warmth, her closeness… it all eased something inside him.