Chapter 7 Theron
THERON
“Because it’s the only way to break the curse!” she says, and bursts into tears.
I stare at her blankly for a moment—what the Hell am I supposed to do?
She sought me out and begged me to fuck her and now she’s crying like her heart will break.
The other males at the bar are looking at us mistrustfully—it’s not like a pure Priestess of the Nature Goddess shows up at The Anvil every day begging someone to fuck her and then bursts into tears.
Deep inside, I feel my Drake stirring again. He almost never speaks but I can feel his emotions…his interest in the little priestess and his concern for her…his sympathy.
I have to admit, her tears move me too. I know I shouldn’t let myself get caught up in whatever it is she’s going through—didn’t she mention a curse? But I can’t help myself. Kline always said that despite my rough looks I’m a soft touch and it looks like my old mentor was right.
“All right now,” I say. “Enough. Come on.” I take her by the arm and drag her to the far corner of the bar, near the side of the hearth. That way we have a bit more privacy, since we’re hidden in the shadows.
I take a seat on the wooden bench there and pull her down beside me. Awkwardly, I put an arm around her and draw her to my side.
“Tell me what’s wrong. Whatever it is, you don’t have to cry about it,” I say, trying to keep the exasperation out of my voice.
She doesn’t answer at first but only presses her hot face to my chest. I feel strongly I should push her away—I’m about to get into something I should steer clear of—I feel it in my bones.
But I also feel my Drake’s rumble of approval. He likes comforting her. I have to admit, grudgingly, that I do too. Why is this curvy little priestess with her wild red curls and her adorable freckles getting under my skin?
“It’s all right,” I tell her, daring to stroke that riot of curls. They’re as soft as they look—as soft as silk. And her curvy body pressed against mine reminds me of how long it’s been since I’ve been with a woman. I haven’t felt much like fucking since Kline passed to the other side.
Not that I feel like it now. I know some males who like it when a woman cries—it gets them off when the female they’re fucking is hurting. But the little priestess’s tears do the opposite for me. Though my shaft got hard when I was kissing her, it’s soft now as I try to give her comfort.
“I’m sorry,” she says at last, looking up at me with red-rimmed eyes. Her long lashes are a shade darker than her hair and they’re all clumped together from the tears. She looks tragic and sad and fucking beautiful. “I didn’t mean to cry all over you.”
“It’s all right,” I tell her roughly. “Sometimes the pain inside is too much and then the tears have to come out.”
That’s what Kline told me when I was young. He found me wandering the dusty streets of the town long past midnight when I was only five or six. My mentor was always patient when I cried for what I had lost, even though I didn’t remember what it was.
“Yes, but you don’t even know me and then I come in here, asking you to…to fuck me…” She still has trouble getting the word out. Her cheeks go adorably pink when she says it. “And then I cry all over you when I don’t even know your name.”
“I don’t know yours, either,” I point out. “I’m Theron,” I add.
“Elowen,” she murmurs. “The point is, you must think I’m crazy.”
“Well, the thought had crossed my mind,” I say dryly.
She gives me an indignant look, and I shake my head quickly.
“No, no—I’m just teasing you, little one. Look, why don’t you tell me what the fuck is wrong and maybe we can figure it out together.”
Elowen looks at me in obvious surprise.
“I don’t understand—why are you being so kind to me all of a sudden?”
I sigh in exasperation and run a hand over my horns. Why am I being kind? This girl is trouble—I’m sure of it. I don’t want the Priestess-Sisters of the Nature Goddess after me—they wield powerful elemental magic that even my Drake wouldn’t want to tangle with. I should steer clear.
But my Drake won’t let me. He’s urging me on in his wordless way—he wants to know the little priestess better.
And—against my better judgment—so do I.
“Because someone was kind to me, once, when I was wandering and alone,” I said at last, thinking of Kline.
And because my Drake likes you, I don’t add aloud. But I can feel his continued and growing interest in the little priestess—he wants me to help her. So I’ll do my best.
“Now tell me about this curse,” I say, looking down at her. “And don’t leave anything out.”