Page 84 of Eldritch (The Eating Woods #2)

“So, why would I wish to bind my sister to a man who seeks to kill us?”

“Mating bonds are very painful, if broken. His loyalties would be to Aleysia, if they were bonded. He’d never hurt her by killing you, because her pain would be his pain.

” He stroked his knuckles over my shoulder and kissed me there.

“I know you have your reservations, but I dare say Theron would consider it.”

“Why?” I asked, frowning.

“He attempted to make peace with me.”

“You don’t trust him, though.”

“I never have.”

I blew out a breath, trying to imagine myself in Aleysia’s position. This wouldn’t be a simple betrothal, after all. “When, and if, it comes to that, Aleysia will choose for herself.”

“And in doing so, she will choose for you, as well.”

“She has Father now,” I argued back. “She isn’t alone.”

“And you would leave her, along with the father you’ve just reunited with, and return to Aethyria without them?”

“If I knew they were both safe, yes. That’s all I’ve wanted since the beginning.”

“What if safety doesn’t exist here for them? If all of Mortasia has become monsters?”

For me, the choice would be obvious. I’d always been more inclined to choose survival over anything else.

Aleysia, on the other hand, tended to let her emotions guide her more often than not.

“Then, we’ll revisit your devious plan.” I tugged the bottle of liquor from his hand and tipped back another long swill, frowning as the burn shot to my nose.

“But let’s not think about that quite yet.

Let’s find the vein—we will find it. My father has been there.

He’s traveled to the Lyverian mountains.

He can help us.” I handed the bottle back to him and after another sip, he set it back onto the floor beside the tub.

Warmth prickled in my cheeks, my limbs heavy, but my head felt light. I’d been intoxicated before to know the liquor was working its way through my blood, but faster than Grandfather’s wine.

Cupping a handful of warm water, he poured it up the length of my arm. “Your father doesn’t appear fit for travel.”

I couldn’t argue with that. His frail bones hardly seemed capable of carrying him down a corridor, let alone the vastness of Vonkovya. “If we could somehow secure a horse.”

“I’ve not seen one in the time we’ve been here. I’d venture to say there aren’t many that have managed to survive.”

“If he’s incapable of travel, Aleysia might be inclined to stay, as well.” Could I leave her there, though? Was the temple any safer without Sacton Crain?

As if sensing my apprehension, Zevander kissed the top of my head again. “We’ll discuss this in the morning. We need sleep, if we’re going to journey to the mountains.”

It was strange how quickly another day had passed.

He nudged me forward and stepped out of the tub, giving me a generous view of his muscled backside with water spilling down his body.

He twisted around and I caught a fleeting glimpse of his chiseled abdomen that tapered to an exquisitely carved V-line before he slipped his arms beneath my legs and back, easily lifting me out of the tub.

“I have the strength to walk to the bed.” I wrapped my arms around his neck as he carried me there.

“I’m certain you do. For now.”

I smiled at that. “Is that a threat of what’s to come when I get there?”

“As thoroughly as I would enjoy that, I have to ensure your ability to travel afoot tomorrow, so I’ll resist the temptation.” Soft pillows met my back, when he laid me onto the bed. “But just in case, maybe I should sleep on the floor.”

“I hear the floor is terrible on the ass, and yours is so wonderfully sculpted.” I hiccuped and chuckled at myself. “I insist you share the bed with me.”

His lips pulled to a grin. “Ah, well, I wouldn’t want to journey with a sore, un-sculpted ass.” He bent down, pressing his lips to mine. “But what if I get ideas in the night?”

“Do you typically get ideas during your sleep?”

His brow kicked up. “Depends on what, or whom, I’m dreaming about.”

I frowned. “Have you dreamed of others and gotten ideas?”

“Yes. All of your personalities. My favorite is anger. She’s lovely in dreams.” As he bent low to kiss me again, I turned my face away.

“I’ve changed my mind. You can cuddle with the rats on the floor.”

He chuckled. “And stir your jealousy? I know better.”

“I’m not jealous. Unless, of course, they turn into beautiful princesses after midnight who want nothing more than to pleasure you for hours.”

His gaze remained fixed on mine, his lips pulling to a smile. “As tempting as that may be, I’d still choose you.”

“Why?”

He pushed a stray hair back toward the pillow beneath me. “You’re more than beautiful.”

I hiccuped again and slapped a hand over my mouth, giggling. “I think you might be a little drunk, if you think I’m more beautiful than magical rats becoming princesses.”

The smile on his face faded for something more serious. “Beautiful is too ordinary a word for you.”

“ Ordinary?” I breathed a laugh. “And what would the mighty assassin call me if not beautiful?”

He trailed his fingertip down my temple.

“I would call you the soft glow of moonlight in a pitch-black world. A prayer I never spoke aloud, but somehow the gods answered anyway. The strike of lightning I dare to behold without flinching.” His brow flickered as he ran his thumb over my bottom lip. “The reason I breathe.”

I stared up at him, certain that not a single person in my life had ever looked at me with the same gleam of reverence as he wore right then. “Perhaps I’m the one who’s intoxicated.”

He bent down and kissed me again. “Get some sleep, or I’ll be forced to carry you all the way to the Lyverian Mountains.”