Chapter 14
PERVY ACTION?
Arioch
Closing my eyes, I blanketed myself in darkness and repeated the spell Clymene had taught me.
As before, a barely perceptible thread appeared.
Strong yet delicate, like spider’s silk, it held fast as I secured it between my fingers and tugged.
My surroundings blurred, and my stomach churned as I hurled through the distance separating me from Ziara, flipped head over heels, and then landed in a crouch.
When my eyes sprang open, I was no longer in my room.
Nor did I recognize the scenery.
This was only my third visit to the thief’s mind, but it was a stark contrast to the first two.
In those, I had found myself in a mountain range not far from the sea, a peaceful paradise that had no place in the mind of such a duplicitous creature.
The beauty and sounds of it had been so distracting that I had ripped it all away, plunging her into a vast nothingness that was easier to manipulate.
The void I stood in now resembled the one I had created, but this was not my doing. More troubling was the fact that Ziara was nowhere to be seen.
Apprehension slid beneath the scales hiding under my flesh as I lingered in my human form to tug on the link connecting us once again. Crossing a shorter distance this time, I landed next to a bed where a worn quilt covered the curves of a female sleeping on her side with her back facing me.
Something was amiss.
Ziara’s normally vibrant crimson hair was far duller than it had been in her previous dreams, and she was deathly still.
Is she… dead?
My chest tightened at the possibility for a split second before reason kicked in. There was no need for panic. The prospect of her death only bothered me because she had information I needed. Losing her ahead of schedule would be inconvenient and irksome, yet not the end of the world.
Despite my logical reasoning, lead filled my stomach as I rounded the bed and crept closer to investigate. Kneeling so my face was even with hers, I verified she was breathing before noting the exhaustion circling her eyes. That was new. As was the waxen, pale appearance of her skin.
Even leeched of her usual vitality, she was quite fetching; her features a fascinating mix of delicate and strong. Unable to tear my gaze away, I memorized every detail of the mysterious creature who had turned my world upside down.
Asleep.
In her dream?
How was that even possible?
Dark magic puffed out of her lips, and I stumbled back. Was she evil? Had something evil attacked her?
Keeping my distance, I called out her name. “Ziara.”
No response.
I inched forward and poked her in the shoulder, feeling the warmth of her body heat through the thin quilt. Yet she still did not stir. Concerned, I shoved her. However, I underestimated my strength, and she toppled over onto her back atop the mattress, releasing a groan.
She looked so harmless in her sleep, the deceitful little wretch. She did not deserve to sleep. Not while my treasure’s absence tormented me.
When her eyelids remained closed, I leaned close enough for her to feel the chill of my breath on her cheek and crooned, “Wake up, little thief.”
Her entire body stiffened, and her heart leaped into a gallop.
Green eyes flew open as she scrabbled to clutch the blanket to her chest. She simultaneously lurched upright and scooted backward in clear alarm.
The edge must have come faster than she anticipated because she tumbled off the bed, feet-over-head, tangled in the blanket.
Her body struck the floor with a muffled thump.
“Shit!”
An impressive collection of curses followed as Ziara fought the quilt for several seconds before emerging victorious. She struggled to rise, nearly tripping before finding her feet.
This is the female who bested me?
Is she inebriated?
There had to be some sort of explanation for the way she swayed, threatening to tip over. Her movements had always been graceful, but now she was so feeble and uncoordinated that she could barely stand.
I shook myself, focusing. The ‘why’ of her condition did not matter. Ziara was here now, and something had weakened her.
This was my chance.
She fumbled with the quilt, securing it beneath her arms and around her torso like a towel.
Enough of her faded gray shift was visible beneath it to make her look ridiculous, yet she simply straightened and raked wild crimson tresses back from her face.
Her eyes were bloodshot when they focused on me.
They narrowed, dipped to the mattress between us, and then went wild with outrage.
“Why the fuck are you in my bed, you creep?” she asked.
I struggled to come up with an answer, but words abandoned me. She thought I would sleep here?
She stabbed a finger in my direction. “If you magicked me into some dream world hoping to score some pervy action, I gotta tell you, I am not the one. If any part of your body comes anywhere near me, I will bite it off.”
Pervy action?
Understanding hit, and I ground my teeth.
Her face wrinkled in disgust as if I had confessed to having designs on her person, when she could not have been further from the truth. Huffing indignantly, I pointed out the obvious.
“My bed was built for a dragon, not a dog.”
A little of the snarl eased from her expression. “What?”
“Had I imagined a bed, it would not be so humble. It would be grand, like the bed I sleep on every night. This pathetic mattress came from your mind, thief.” I returned the divisive look she had given me. “Perhaps you are the one hoping to score some pervy action.”
She shuffled her feet, and the blanket nearly took her down again.
“Why are you here?” she asked.
“Obviously not to execute you since you have given me ample opportunity.”
Then there was the price Clymene had demanded.
No harm could come to Ziara in the dream world—such actions invited consequences even the centaur would not speak of—and I had been forced to accept the limitation.
Her fee, however, troubled me more. An unnamed favor, to be called upon at her discretion.
I was her manor lord. She should have been honored to serve. Instead, she had reminded me that all magic came with a cost, as though I could ever forget.
Regardless, now I owed the centaur a favor, and I had to resist the temptation to end the thief.
Ziara glared at me. Her eyes betrayed her intention an instant before her hand flew to her mouth, but I would not lose her so easily this time. I lunged, closing the distance between us before her teeth could find flesh.
Midway through my leap, reason intervened.
Pain was her escape. If she struck the floor too hard, the shock could release her from the dream.
I adjusted, caging her arms with mine and twisting so my back absorbed the impact.
My shoulder struck the concrete first, and Ziara landed on top of me, her body flush against mine in a manner that was immediately and profoundly distracting.
She struggled to free herself, which only worsened my predicament considerably. A curtain of crimson hair blinded me. I inhaled before I could stop myself, seeking her scent, but the dream world was a hollow imitation of reality, mocking my most primal instincts. I could smell nothing.
White-hot agony detonated across my chin.
The back of her skull slammed into my jaw. An improvised weapon I had not anticipated.
She cocked her head for another strike, and I rolled us. She bucked and struggled like a feral animal refusing to be caught. I flipped her onto her back and straddled her, capturing her wrists and pinning them above her head. With my face inches above hers, I met her venomous gaze and grinned.
“There. Much better.”
Her glare threatened to set me on fire. “Get off me, you sick bastard,” she spat.
Her blanket had become dislodged during our struggle, and her thin, gray shift did little to hide the swells of her heaving breasts or her taut nipples. The warmth of her core pressed against me, only worsening the situation in my trousers.
Desperate to distract myself from her alarmingly enticing body, I asked, “What happened to you?”
Confusion flickered across her features before she stiffened. “That’s none of your business.”
“Have you been injured?”
“Give me one reason I shouldn’t bite my tongue and end this,” she said.
“I will continue to return every single night until you speak to me.”
Her eyes widened. “Wow. You need a hobby.”
“You stole my treasure. My presence in your dreams is merely one of the consequences you will face for your actions. But I am not without compassion. Grant me a brief conversation now, and I will leave you in peace for the rest of the night.”
“First, tell me how you’re doing it.”
Her audacity was fascinating. “Thieves do not dictate terms to those they have wronged.”
“Fine. I’ll talk. But only if you swear to leave me alone forever.”
I barked out a laugh.
She cut me a sharp look. “It’s called negotiating. You should try it.”
“Oh, little thief, there is no negotiating away my presence. You stole from my hoard, broke your word, and stabbed me.”
“Agree to stay out of my head for a month,” she countered.
Unbelievable. “One night’s reprieve in exchange for a simple conversation is the best I will offer. This deal is far better than you deserve considering the irrevocable harm you have caused me and mine.”
“Define conversation,” she said.
“I will inform you of the plans I have for your pack and advise you of the actions you can take to spare them. When our discussion is concluded, I will release you until the next time you fall asleep. This is my final offer. Refuse, and I will personally make sure you never know another night’s rest. On this, I vow, thief, and unlike you, I keep my word. ”
She swallowed, and the fight drained from her eyes. “I won’t reveal anything that will endanger my pack.”
I was still straddling her, with her wrists in my hands, yet she still could not admit defeat. Fighting back a growl, I said, “Did I say I planned to interrogate you?”
Ignoring her glare, I assessed her for weapons.
Dreams were unstable projections, and I could not afford to relinquish my advantage.
Her shift barely covered her thighs, leaving nowhere to conceal a blade.
I briefly considered conjuring more appropriate attire, but her discomfort served my purposes.
That she was also rather pleasant to look at was merely an observation, not a motivation.
She huffed out a frustrated breath. “Will you at least let me up?”
Confident that the dreaded daggers were not stashed on her body, I slowly released her wrists and drew back, clocking her every twitch. She scowled, yanking the blanket up with her as she stood and wrapped it around her again.
“Nice touch, dressing me in nothing but a T-shirt and panties, but I’d like my own clothes now. Please.”
“Everything here is exactly as I found it. Why did you create this void, Ziara? What happened to you?”
She blinked and looked around, seeming to notice our lack of surroundings for the first time. Understanding flooded her eyes, and one hand flew to her throat. She probed the area, wincing in pain.
“How bad is your injury?” I asked.
“I thought you said this isn’t an interrogation.”
Dipping my head, I conceded. “For tonight.”
“Cool. Say what you need to say and get out of my head.”
My temper snapped, and I sprang forward, encircling her pale neck with my hand. The jagged lines of a healing wound confirmed my suspicion that she had been injured, and her unwillingness to share the details made me wish I could rip her out of this dream and lock her in my dungeon.
She batted at my arms and tried to knee me in the crotch, but I pressed against her, preventing the momentum she needed for a decent strike.
Brilliant green eyes glared at me.
I pressed against her, my knee sliding between her thighs. Her breath hitched, and I gave her throat a squeeze. What was it about this little wolf that made me lean closer and inhale, desperate for a hint of her scent.
Nothing.
Frustrated, I eased the dragon into my eyes and shook her. “This is not a game. Death will fly north soon. Not for you. No, you, I will curse with a long, lonely life, beginning when I force you to witness all the other consequences of your actions.”
She stopped struggling, and fear seeped into her eyes. “You come near my pack… we’ll kill you.”
“What threat do wolves pose to a dragon? Fascination stayed my hand once, but I do not repeat my mistakes. You should plead for mercy, yet here you are, tugging on my horns. I grow weary of your disrespect.”
Her fingernails dug into my skin, and I realized the color had drained from her face. Strangulation was not fatal to wolves. I had learned as much from the journal. Squeezing harder, I leaned in, and my breath frosted the air between us.
“However, I am not without mercy. When I arrive, surrender peacefully with the artifact, and I will spare the lives of your people. Refuse, and I will encase you in ice and force you to watch me slaughter everyone you hold dear.”