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Chapter fourteen

ATALIIA

A shiver skidded across my skin at the salacious energy that seeped through the seams of this house.

Even miles from the heart of the city, a prurient current still flowed through the air.

I dipped my head underwater, letting it cleanse me one last time before stepping out of the bath and wrapping myself in a towel.

I leaned my head against the cold stone wall of the bathing room, dreading what the rest of the night had in store for me.

This was supposed to be an easy assignment.

Get in, listen for any whisperings of information in taverns and brothels, then get out.

It had all gone to shit so quickly. I groaned, pushing my head from the wall and trudged into the other room.

The familiar jumped onto the bed as I dropped the towel from around my body and I studied it, watching as the cat curled itself into a ball.

I smiled softly as I watched its tail gently tap the black silk sheets.

“You did so well today,” I cooed, walking toward the bed and burying my nails into the deep grey fur behind its ears.

It purred gently, rolling onto its back at my touch as I scratched under its chin.

“I suppose . . . I should give you a name at some point,” I said, sighing and shooing it from the bed as I laid back.

Its paws landed on the floor with a quiet thud and I watched as it transformed into a tiny mouse then slipped underneath the door.

The sheets slid against my naked body, and I shuddered at the feeling.

This fucking place .

I wasn’t sure if it affected me differently because my magic hailed from these lands, but the need I felt within the borders of Ammord was overwhelming—demanding.

A constant itch in the back of my head that I could never quite scratch.

I spent so much time training and learning how to shift, how to control my body, that I had neglected to learn to control how this carnal energy affected my mind.

On my first assignment here, I came to the conclusion that fighting a random man was better than bedding him. And tonight, I didn’t get the fight I craved to quell these urges.

Like most things, I would just have to take care of these feelings myself.

Sliding a hand over my bare breasts, I gave in to the arousal that was growing in my center and breathed in the lust-filled air.

My nipples peaked against my touch as my fingers kneaded into them.

The room began to heat as I let my right hand slowly slip down my body.

My fingers lingered at every curve, every dip, feeling every inch of my scarred skin—praising it, honoring it as I bent my knees and spread my legs apart.

My hand slipped between my thighs to find warmth already emanating there, need pooling and begging to be satiated.

I let my middle finger dip into the pleasure that had already begun to flow from me and trailed it back toward my clit.

My finger connected and a gasp shuddered from my lips.

My left hand flew from my breast to grab onto the sheets, balling them in my fist.

Slowly, I began to move my finger in small circles, adding more and more pressure with every pass. A low moan rolled from my throat, vibrating through my bones and releasing the pressure that was building inside me.

My left hand uncoiled around the sheets and began to trail down the expanse of my body. I pushed two fingers inside myself and a groan slipped from my lips, my head tilting back as I continued to circle my clit in slow, deliberate movements.

I was going to make this feeling last.

My hips ground onto my fingers, riding every wave of pleasure that shot through my veins each time they plunged back into me. My body began to tremble as I inched closer and closer to the release I craved like a wild animal.

I needed it .

My head flew back, my back arching toward the heavens as a deep moan sang from the depths of my chest.

I was so fucking close.

A cold draft fluttered against my skin and my eyes flew open as light from the doorway reflected off the ceiling. That Gods damn familiar must have pushed back in, but I didn’t care, not when I was inches from the edge.

I dragged my eyes from the ceiling and let them fall to the doorway to see Dukovich standing frozen—speechless—at the entrance of my room.

My heart skipped in my chest, rage blooming there as I stared back at him—the pleasure and lust pumping through my blood paralyzing me, stopping me from screaming at him to get out, from covering myself from his gaze.

Then, as he took a small step closer, I snapped out of my daze and flew off the bed.

My hands frantically clutched at the sheets, wrapping them around my naked body as I snatched the dagger from my bedside table and flung it directly for his heart.

The onyx pommel glinted against the candle light as it sailed through the air toward him.

Only inches before contact, his hand shot into the air, his fingers wrapping around the blade—stopping it from puncturing his chest. I watched as blood began to seep from his hand and trickle down his forearm before he opened his fingers and let the knife clatter to the floor.

My chest heaved, the lust and anger still burning and slithering through my body.

A low chuckle sounded from his throat as he walked toward me with slow, predatory steps.

The backs of my bare thighs collided with the bedside table as I backed away from him.

I lifted myself onto its surface, sliding myself further away as my free hand searched for the second dagger I had left there.

Drops of blood landed onto the floor with each step he took, inching closer and closer as I clutched the sheet to my chest, the fabric of it cascading down between my legs.

The hairs on my arms stood on end as the electric current crackled through the air.

Each beat of my heart seemed to amplify, echoing in my ears.

He stopped in front of me, his breaths coming out in quick bursts, and I could feel the tension radiating off him like heat from a fire. I leaned my head against the wall, lifting my chin to meet his gaze and our eyes locked.

“If you wanted to spread your legs for me, all you had to do was ask,” Dukovich chuckled darkly, the sound low and full of the same carnal energy currently coursing through my veins.

His breath feathered across my cheeks and I stifled the gasp the feeling of it threatened to release. He placed each palm on the wall behind me, trapping me between his arms and I watched as his blood dripped down his forearm and fell onto my chest, the metallic scent filling my lungs.

“Your hands will never fucking touch me,” I spat, but the words came out too thin—too breathy.

“Is that so?” he asked, dark amusement dancing behind his eyes as his left hand fell from the wall and inched toward my shoulder.

The gasp I’d been struggling to hold in flung itself from my lips as his skin connected with mine. The muscles in my thighs clenched at the need that pulsed between them as he dragged his bloodied hand over my shoulder.

His fingers wrapped around my neck before his thumb traced over the cut of my jaw and swiped across my bottom lip.

It took all my strength to resist the urge to lick off the blood he had left there.

To taste him .

Every nerve in my body was betraying me. The deep seated hatred I had for him being drowned in the need pooling in my center as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against my ear as his crimson grasp fell back around my neck.

“You look so beautiful covered in my blood, love,” he whispered. “Red truly is your color.” His words vibrated against my skin as his teeth connected with the lobe of my ear, sliding over it just hard enough that pain shot through my limbs right before a flood of pleasure.

He began to pull away then, stilled as my dagger connected with his throat. He pulled back only one inch more, his lips almost touching mine as our gazes met. I steeled myself against the wall at my back, fighting the urge to lean into the blazing energy that simmered off of him.

“Remove your hand, or I will remove it for you,” I hissed, pressing the blade tight against his skin as a lethal smile slithered across his lips.

He leaned into the knife, closing the small distance between us and his skin went taut under the sharp edge as his fingers tightened around my neck.

My body went wholly still as his breath ghosted through my lashes.

His tongue flicked out from his mouth and slid over my bottom lip, licking off the blood he had smeared there before pulling away from me.

The distance was a welcome reprieve from the heat that was burning between us.

Dukovich smirked as his fingers slipped from my neck and took a step back, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

I sucked in a deep breath, oxygen finally flooding my lungs.

His devilish smile only grew wider as he watched me.

I could feel the tension rippling between us, thick and heavy in the air.

My heart raced in my chest as I struggled to regain control of my emotions.

A low chuckle caressed his throat as he turned and walked toward the door. His fingers wrapped around the handle as he looked over his shoulder, our eyes connecting and holding each other’s stare for a long moment.

“Get dressed, we still have work to do,” he finally said as he pulled the door open and stepped through.

I flung my dagger toward the ghost of him, groaning into the air as the sound of splintering wood rang through the room.

This was the day from hell.

If Landers ever forced him back to Ammord with me, I would scream. I would actually scream, maybe even set this damn familiar loose on him. I cursed my body for the need it felt toward that insidious man.

His face was the only pretty thing about him.

His insides were poison.