Page 30 of The Midnight Arrow
“Especiallyme,” he said, his sharp smile returning.
The flash of his fangs made me jolt, made me remember that it was nightfall and he likely needed to feed, especially after expending that energy on the Sever. Or…the Shade.
“You’ve killed Shades before,” I commented.
“Only ones that get too close to the villages,” he told me. “Or the ones who want to die.”
“You give them mercy even though you don’t think you should?” I asked, my gaze sliding down the line of his slick chest before I could stop myself. “Why?”
“It’s only more pain and suffering,” he replied. “Better to end it. Pain has power. It has energy, like magic. Why allow it to spread? Why not twist off its head right where it stands?”
There was something rising in me at the brutal edge of his words. Something I didn’t understand.
Lorik cocked his head. Water trickled when he raised an arm, and I felt his hand clasp my chin, his thumb stroking the bottom of my lip.
“Do you like that, my bloodthirsty little witch?”
“I’m not bloodthirsty,” I whispered, unable to look away.
“You like it when I’m cruel though. Or merciful—however you wish to look at it,” he replied. His eyes were glowing again. They were all I could see.
“I like it when you don’t hesitate,” I corrected, the words falling out of me in a rush. My lip was wet from his thumb, and he stroked over the flesh. Unconsciously, I darted my tongue out to catch the water, and he made a sound in the back of his throat when it met the roughened pad of his thumb.
“Explain,” he ordered, his gaze on my lips, like he wished I would lick him again.
“When you…when you don’t overthinkanything. You act. Some might call it unpredictable, but I don’t think it’s that at all,” I confessed softly, my throat tight with want and desire and something that felt strangely like panic. “I think you know yourself better than most people know themselves. Your morality, your values, your lies, and your truths. I think you see the world ten steps ahead of everyone else.”
“Then why didn’t I ask you to Grimstone’s and steal your kiss in a back booth if you believe I don’t hesitate when it comes to what I want?” he questioned.
“I didn’t say that. I didn’t say only when it comes to whatyouwant. But I think you know why you haven’t asked me to Grimstone’s,” I whispered. “I don’t. But you do. There’s a reason for it—one I cannot see yet.”
“But are you beginning to see it?” he questioned, leaning forward, his chest pressing harder against the side of the washing tub. “Are you beginning to see who I am, little witch?”
“I’m not even close,” I admitted, my eyes half-lidded, leaning toward him. “I know your name is Lorik Ravael. I know you don’t live in Rolara. I know Veras knows you and he thinks you’re dangerous. I know you joke and smile with the lonely old silk trader at the market and that it makes her whole week. I know you watch people, I know you see a lot more than many do. I know you were struck with a poisoned arrow with a metal tip when Allavari only use wood. I know you’ve killed Severs…only you call them Shades. And that you’ve read books in Olimara. And that you have a sister who you would do anything for, though I’ve never seen you with anyone in the village. And I know…”
I swallowed, licking my lips again, and I felt the pressure of Lorik’s thumb increase on my bottom lip.
“You know what, Marion?”
“I know that you look at me like you don’t look at anyone else. Unless even that’s a lie,” I couldn’t help but add. “Is it?”
“Hmmm. Tell me how I look at you, and I’ll tell you if it’s a lie,” he rasped.
“Like…like you want me. Like I’m the one thing you can’t figure out and it drives you mad,” I answered honestly, memory of catching his pensive frown on me in the market. “Like you want nothing more than to steal my kiss and for some reason you just won’t. Or can’t. Like?—”
Lorik leaned forward, his movements so quick they were a blur.
His palm spread over my cheek, his long fingers extending toward the nape of my neck, tugging me toward him.
His lips were warm and soft…but his kiss was firm.
I gasped, my scalp tingling, a full-body shiver racking me.
“Not a lie,” he whispered against my lips. His tongue lapped at mine, his fangs brushing my bottom lip, teasing. “How’s this for not hesitating?”
Thirteen
His husky words drifted over my tongue, threading down my throat, until it felt like I’d consumed them entirely.