Chapter 9
Azreth wrapped an arm around her to pull her closer.
The movement startled her. A rush of something—fear or lust—turned her insides to liquid as she braced her hands against his chest. She wasn’t ready for whatever this was. “Wait.”
Azreth canted his head slightly. His hands rested on her back and her waist, waiting. She had not expected him to stop.
She took a breath, calming herself. This was just a transaction. She didn’t belong to him. She was doing this for power. For herself. For her enchantments.
Thinking of her enchantments firmed her resolve. Finally, she had a magic user to power her creations.
When she didn’t say anything more, he turned her around so that her back was against him. Holding her, he sank to the ground, seating her in his lap. He was a massive pillar of warmth against her back, his arms enfolding her and steadying her like when they’d slept together.
“You would like my assistance?” he asked. The velvety softness of his voice penetrated through her body and sent shivers up her spine.
“Yes,” she said. “Please.”
He paused, as if surprised.
“We may as well get it done with quickly,” she added, not wanting him to think she was too eager.
“…Yes.” His arms draped languidly over her as he bent his knee, raising his thigh between her legs. She drew in a breath as thick muscle pressed against her. She got the feeling he wasn’t particularly in a hurry.
“Have you done this before?” she asked.
“Not with a mortal.” His hand moved to her thigh, a firm touch that edged dangerously close to her sex.
“Do you know what you’re doing?”
“You will have to let me know.”
He cupped her through her trousers. Raiya froze, her heart racing. It was the same way Nirlan had touched her in front of him. She knew they were both thinking of it.
Unhurriedly, he pulled her robe up over her waist. She braced herself against him, feeling trapped with him on every side of her. And yet, she liked the feeling.
She closed her eyes as he caressed her sex. They lapsed into a silence that felt very awkward, but she felt that interrupting the moment by talking would be even worse.
He pulled her thigh with one hand, gently spreading her legs further.
She told herself there was nothing dehumanizing or embarrassing about this. This was for her. This was for power. This was for a new life away from Nirlan.
Her hips wriggled involuntarily as his fingers rolled over a sensitive point. And as she shifted, she felt a hard column beneath her, its length pressing against the cleft of her backside. Her eyes snapped open.
Azreth tilted his head, breathing deeply against the top of her head. “You smell like lust,” he murmured, breaking their silence.
She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.
She tried to push against him to readjust herself, and he responded by pulling her tighter against him. He grabbed her wrist, pinning it to her side, and his palm clenched hard against her mound. She gasped, unable to escape the grinding of his hand. His body was as solid as stone. He was so much heavier and stronger than Nirlan.
It was too easy to enjoy him. Far too easy.
His hand moved up to the waist of her trousers and began to slide beneath. When she felt his fingers seeking the edges of her undergarments, she was stricken with sudden panic. It was all too much.
“No. Wait.” She tried to shift her hands to stop him, but he was immovable. He paused anyway. She felt his head lift.
“Why not?”
“I just—just please don’t.”
He paused another beat, then withdrew his hand from beneath her clothes. His nose and mouth touched the side of her head—almost, but not quite, a kiss. Almost… like an apology.
“Be at ease,” he murmured.
A wave of emotion crashed over her, and tears stung her eyes. She hadn’t really thought he would stop when she asked. She wasn’t used to people stopping. And it had been a long time since anyone had touched her sweetly—even if this was all for function, not fun.
She realized that because he could sense her arousal and her fear, and probably other things, he could somewhat sense what she wanted without her even saying anything. And so, without her having to clarify, he seemed to sense her desire to continue. His fingers explored her greedily, but not roughly.
He found a spot that made her gasp. She turned to jelly, her head tipping back onto his shoulder.
“There,” she whispered.
“I know.”
His cock pulsed beneath her, pushing upward as it sought her channel. At that moment, she longed for it. Her body felt empty, unfilled, unsatisfied. It yearned for him.
Gods, how did he do this to her? Was it magic? Was she being bewitched?
As his strong fingers flexed against her—skillful for someone who’d never met a mortal woman before—she gave a moan that she struggled to suppress. She grabbed his arms, holding on for dear life as she climaxed. Her entire body tried to arch, but he held her fast. Her hips bucked against him, and he moved along with her, his body taunting her. There was far too much cloth between them.
And then she heard a satisfied moan behind her, as if Azreth was experiencing his own climax of sorts. His arms crushed her against him. His fingers clenched on her arm, hard enough to border on pain. His hips rolled against her in a way that made her lightheaded.
“You taste fantastic.”The words grating out of his throat sounded like metal and magic as his voice took on an impossible two-toned aspect. Raiya’s hair stood on end. It was exactly what she would expect a demon to sound like. It was inhuman. Terrifying. Demonic.
“Taste?” she asked. Suddenly she was thinking about him licking the blood from her fingers. She was remembering him wild with hunger, losing control, tearing bodies limb from limb.
His arms were still locked around her, and his cock was thick between her legs.
“Yes,” he sighed, and his voice had returned to normal again. “Like nothing else I’ve ever experienced.”
She didn’t know what to say. Should she be flattered, or worried?
He released her, and she slowly shuffled her clothes back into place before climbing from his lap. She fussed longer than necessary, afraid to turn back around and look at him. When she finally did, he looked lazy and satisfied, his eyes half-lidded, like he’d just had a feast and possibly eaten too much.
She was pretty sure that some sort of coda was appropriate for this interaction, but what? Should she thank him for a good time? Remind him that she’d only done this out of necessity? Should she address her teariness earlier?
Instead, she thought about what he’d said a moment ago. Like nothing else I’ve ever experienced.
“If you’d never met a mortal before now, how did you feed in the hells?” she asked.
He tilted his head back to look up at her. His eyes were blazing cerulean. “We feed on emotional energy. Demons have emotions.”
“You fed on other demons?”
“Yes.”
“Like this?”
A tiny crease formed between his brows as he got to his feet. The lazy, satisfied look was gone. “No.”
Curiosity ate at her. She had to force herself not to ask again. Instead, she pulled the bracelet from her pocket and held it out in her palm. Azreth looked down at it blankly.
“Our agreement?” she reminded him.
He gave her a look that seemed faintly disapproving. But he picked up the bracelet and held it lightly between his hands. A light grew between his palms as magic pulsed through the air, flowing into the bracelet. Raiya watched, rapt. It was a rare joy to have one of her creations actually imbued with magic.
How amazing it must be to be able to have magic at your fingertips. He used it like it was completely natural, like an extension of his body. Like he thought nothing of it.
She glanced up at his face, expecting him to be focused on his magic, but he was watching her. Watching her watching him.
“Are mortals preferable to demons for feeding?” she asked. “Is that why your people come to Heilune? Because we… taste better?”
“They are preferable,” he said, “because they are soft and weak and easily frightened. Your plane is a feast for us.”
She bristled. “We are not weak.”
He gave her a look. He wore no particular expression, but somehow it seemed like an argument anyway.
“We’re not weak,” she repeated.
“You are not strong,” he said slowly. He spoke matter-of-factly, as if trying to convey that he didn’t intend it as an insult. “Mortals are small and easy to break. They cannot put up much of a fight. It is different in the hells. We must fight every day in order to survive. That’s why many try to make their way here, even when it comes with great risk.” He glanced up at her, shrugging one shoulder. “That, and you taste better.”
“Perhaps other demons would have an easier time if they all behaved like you.” She hesitated, weighing whether she should say what she was thinking. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest. “It isn’t so bad being fed from when you do it like that.”
His eyebrows went up a touch. She felt herself blushing.
He lowered his gaze to the bracelet again. “Perhaps. Not everyone has such a willing donor on hand.”
Donor. She preferred that to “victim.”
The light between his palms faded as he finished charging the bracelet. When he held it out to her, light shimmered from the runes. Raiya smiled, excited to see it work.
“Put it on,” she said.
His eyes narrowed. “You first.”
Raiya’s smile faded. Just like that, the speck of goodwill between them seemed to evaporate.
“I can tell you are a man who does not trust easily, Azreth” she said dryly. She took the bracelet and slipped it onto her arm. She sensed the enchantment latch onto her mind, waiting for instruction. She willed it into action.
Magic darted over her skin, and her complexion darkened to a cobalt blue to match Azreth’s. She rapidly switched through all the colors of the rainbow.
“It changes your coloring,” he observed.
“Yes. And it didn’t even strike me dead in the process.” She took it off and held it out to him. “Now will you use it?”
Hesitantly, he took it from her and slipped it over his wrist. He had to bend the metal open wide, but eventually it fit.
He changed his skin to the same sandy color as hers, and his hair remained black. She was relieved when his horns disappeared. She’d been afraid the illusion wouldn’t cover them. It wasn’t the strongest glamour she’d ever seen, but for the work of a mediocre non-mage enchanter, she thought it wasn’t bad.
“Your eyes,” she reminded him.
Pupils and irises and whites appeared. Brown eyes, like hers. He looked down at her. It was unnerving to suddenly be able to track his gaze so precisely, for some reason. His eyes felt more intense when she could see them looking directly into hers.
She looked him over. Disguised as a human, she found that he was very conventionally attractive, which almost made her laugh. It wasn’t enough that he was a seven foot tall, bare-chested man with a body that looked to have been sculpted by the gods—no, he had to have a pretty face, too. It was almost too ridiculous to be believable.
He was going to attract attention no matter how much they changed him, but at least he wasn’t blue. “It’s a shame it can’t make you look any smaller,” she said. “If people ask, tell them you’re half giant. We need clothes for you, too.”
“I do not need protection from the elements.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Have you seen anyone else here walking around topless?”
“Topless?”
“Without a top. A shirt.”
He thought about it. “No,” he realized. “It looks suspicious?”
“You could say that.” She pulled her blanket from her bag and held it out to him. He fastened it around his shoulders, then bent down so she could pin it into place. The fabric wasn’t thick, but there was a lot of it, and it covered most of his upper body, draping over him like a shawl.
She stood back to check their work. “You could almost pass for a native Uulantaavan,” she said. “As long as you don’t bite anyone.”
He lifted his makeshift cloak so that both his arms were free. The strange glow of his phantom limb was gone, and it had the appearance of real flesh. He gave it a lingering look, turning his hand over and back.
“What now?” he asked.
She paused, surprised again to be the one making decisions. “There are no other scholars in Frosthaven who could help with your binding, let alone enchanters. We’ll need to go farther afield to find the information we’re looking for.” And she was eager to put more distance between her and Nirlan.
“How much farther?”
She grimaced. It was probably best to be honest. “I’m not sure. We should head for Ontag-ul for now. It’s the next town down the road.” And it was still many miles away, especially since Azreth had brought them west instead of south along the north-south road when he’d wandered away from the castle. It would take days to get there.
“And if we don’t find answers there?”
“Then we will have to keep searching.”
He nodded. “I will follow.” The statement was oddly comforting.