Page 89
Story: Land of Shadow
That’s all I know about him. But the part that scares me is what I know aboutme. Despite how much I hate him for what he is and what he’s done, I’m drawn to him. I always have been, if I’m being honest with myself. I can’t explain it. I don’t want to try. Not tonight.
“I suppose you have no updates for me.” He gives me his usual snide tone.
“Why?” I ask.
He stands across the island from me, his gaze searching my face. There’s not a scratch on it. He healed my injuries, every last one of them. My surface is smooth and unmarred. What lies underneath is pockmarked and bleeding.
“Why?” I repeat my question. “Why did you save me?”
His gaze narrows, the haughty façade still in place. “You know why. You’re an asset, one I’m bound to protect.”
“That’s not why.” I rub my eyes and refocus on him. “What you did in the atrium—that wasn’t an act of someone protecting an ‘asset’.” I stand and walk around to him. He follows my movements, his body turning in time with mine until we meet. “That was …” I remember the screams, the smell of viscera and death.
“Personal?” he asks.
“Yes.” I look up into his eyes.
He shrugs lightly. “Or perhaps in your sheltered life you’ve never seen true acts of violence done by someone who knows exactly how to inflict the most pain. Someone whoenjoysit.” He smirks.
“You’re lying.”
“Am I?” He raises a brow.
“You tore them apart. I don’t think anyone escaped.”
“They didn’t.” He smiles coldly. “Some tried, of course. I hunted them down. They thought they’d gotten away. It’s more fun when they think they’re safe, that the shadow has passed them by.”
I should be horrified. I’m not. I’m … relieved. There’s a piece of me missing, a switch that flipped when Clay gutted me with enjoyment in his eyes. The missing piece has been replaced with something colder, darker, sharper. Akin to vengeance, but more vicious.
“You healed me,” I whisper so low I can barely hear myself.
He steps closer, so close my breasts brush against his shirt and his scent envelops me. “Careful, Georgia.” His voice is a low purr. “Some things are better left unsaid.”
I know then that I’m right, that it was more than him just doing his job. He doesn’t want Gregor to know he healed me. Why?
With trembling fingers, I reach up and press my palm to his cheek.
His pupils grow at my touch, two black abysses that swallow me whole.
“You saved me. You didn’t have to.”
He takes my hand and brings it to his mouth, his lips like the touch of feathers against my wrist. Just that simple contact sends heat coursing through me. He holds my gaze as he presses his mouth more fully to my skin, my body going prickly with awareness. “Yes, I did.”
Wrapping one arm around me, he leans down and pulls me against his chest, his hand in my hair as he kisses the spot just beneath my ear.
The heat of him pulls a gasp from me.
“Three bloodlines.” His voice is so soft that I wonder if I’m truly hearing it or if he’s speaking in my mind. “Dragonis. Gregor’s line. Blood of intention.”
The one with the power to control. I think back to what Gage made me memorize.
“My line.” His tongue dances along the shell of my ear, and my knees go weak. “The one sample you’ve never been given.”
“Why? If it’s the one I’ve needed, why would you keep it from me?”
He meets my gaze again, his eyes stormy and dark. “Because it’s the end.”
“Of what?”
“I suppose you have no updates for me.” He gives me his usual snide tone.
“Why?” I ask.
He stands across the island from me, his gaze searching my face. There’s not a scratch on it. He healed my injuries, every last one of them. My surface is smooth and unmarred. What lies underneath is pockmarked and bleeding.
“Why?” I repeat my question. “Why did you save me?”
His gaze narrows, the haughty façade still in place. “You know why. You’re an asset, one I’m bound to protect.”
“That’s not why.” I rub my eyes and refocus on him. “What you did in the atrium—that wasn’t an act of someone protecting an ‘asset’.” I stand and walk around to him. He follows my movements, his body turning in time with mine until we meet. “That was …” I remember the screams, the smell of viscera and death.
“Personal?” he asks.
“Yes.” I look up into his eyes.
He shrugs lightly. “Or perhaps in your sheltered life you’ve never seen true acts of violence done by someone who knows exactly how to inflict the most pain. Someone whoenjoysit.” He smirks.
“You’re lying.”
“Am I?” He raises a brow.
“You tore them apart. I don’t think anyone escaped.”
“They didn’t.” He smiles coldly. “Some tried, of course. I hunted them down. They thought they’d gotten away. It’s more fun when they think they’re safe, that the shadow has passed them by.”
I should be horrified. I’m not. I’m … relieved. There’s a piece of me missing, a switch that flipped when Clay gutted me with enjoyment in his eyes. The missing piece has been replaced with something colder, darker, sharper. Akin to vengeance, but more vicious.
“You healed me,” I whisper so low I can barely hear myself.
He steps closer, so close my breasts brush against his shirt and his scent envelops me. “Careful, Georgia.” His voice is a low purr. “Some things are better left unsaid.”
I know then that I’m right, that it was more than him just doing his job. He doesn’t want Gregor to know he healed me. Why?
With trembling fingers, I reach up and press my palm to his cheek.
His pupils grow at my touch, two black abysses that swallow me whole.
“You saved me. You didn’t have to.”
He takes my hand and brings it to his mouth, his lips like the touch of feathers against my wrist. Just that simple contact sends heat coursing through me. He holds my gaze as he presses his mouth more fully to my skin, my body going prickly with awareness. “Yes, I did.”
Wrapping one arm around me, he leans down and pulls me against his chest, his hand in my hair as he kisses the spot just beneath my ear.
The heat of him pulls a gasp from me.
“Three bloodlines.” His voice is so soft that I wonder if I’m truly hearing it or if he’s speaking in my mind. “Dragonis. Gregor’s line. Blood of intention.”
The one with the power to control. I think back to what Gage made me memorize.
“My line.” His tongue dances along the shell of my ear, and my knees go weak. “The one sample you’ve never been given.”
“Why? If it’s the one I’ve needed, why would you keep it from me?”
He meets my gaze again, his eyes stormy and dark. “Because it’s the end.”
“Of what?”
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