Page 40 of Lady of Starfire (Lady of Darkness #5)

Her mouth fell open at the finality of his tone, as if the conversation was over. “That’s all you’re going to say?”

“This is how you want it, Eliza,” he retorted.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means if you want a report on things that have happened, you’ll have to ask someone who answers to your queen.”

Her lip peeled back in a sneer, and she made to push off the door.

But his other hand came up, wrapping loosely around her throat and holding her in place.

That frenzied gleam was still in his eyes, and she couldn’t decide if the move was a primal instinct to stop his current source of power from slipping away, or if it was a calculated move.

Perhaps a bit of both, but he finally met her stare.

“You have made it clear this is what you want,” he said tightly. “Avonleyan and Source. That is all that we are. I needed my power refilled, so I came here. That is the extent of the information I owe you when that is all this relationship entails.”

She didn’t know what to say to that because he was right. This is what she’d demanded of him. She shouldn’t be asking him what was going on across the Edria. She shouldn’t be looking to him for anything.

His thumb brushed along her pulse point.

Then he did it again. And again. He still held her by the throat, but the hold was loose.

She could easily break it if she wanted to.

Razik knew that too. Knew she was allowing him to hold her that way.

She could tell he knew it by the way his thumb kept making those light passes on her neck.

By the way his gaze had zeroed in on her mouth.

How that frantic mania that had been in his eyes was shifting to something else despite everything he’d just said to her.

And her power kept going to him. Her flames almost entranced the way a Night Child could entrance another.

That was an ability unique to the Night Children, but they were descended from the Legacy.

The Night Children had been cursed by Arius for continuing to feed on the blood of Fae instead of taking Sources, but what had happened to that entrancing ability in the Legacy and Avonleyans?

“Are you going to take it all?” she asked hoarsely.

“If you’d let me, I would take everything.”

Her breathing stuttered, air getting stuck in her throat that he was still caressing with his thumb. She could tell he hadn’t meant to say that aloud.

“Razik,” she whispered.

His eyes snapped to hers, as if suddenly remembering where he was. He cleared his throat. “I was completely drained. Even taking all your power, my wells still will not be fully replenished.”

“So you are going to take it all?” she repeated, her knees weakening. She’d like to think it was completely from being drained of her magic, but his godsdamn thumb was still moving.

“I will leave some,” he replied. “But I will need to draw again when your reserves have refilled. Before I can go.”

“If you drain it this much, it’ll take a few days to get to that point.”

“I am aware. I had a Source before.”

Her lips pursed. As if she could forget that.

“It was nothing like this,” he added as an afterthought.

“I don’t care,” she snapped.

“Of course you don’t.”

That mocking smirk made an appearance, and Eliza yanked her arm from his grip. “If you’re going to draw from me again, that is enough for now.”

It wasn’t lost on her that she’d forced him to release her arm and not her throat.

Godsdamnit .

His gaze dipped to her mouth again, his lips parting slightly, before his hand slipped from her neck, and he took a measured step back.

She couldn’t move though. Mainly because she was sure she would stumble from losing so much power so quickly, and she’d be damned if he would witness that.

So she stayed pressed to the door as though he were still holding her there.

“This is not going to work,” he said tightly, folding his arms across his chest and eyeing her.

“What?”

“That I have to Travel here when my power is low.”

“What do you plan to do then? Stay here?” she asked, dread coiling through her at the thought.

“I cannot stay here.”

“You’re here now.”

He tensed even more. Apparently filling his empty power wells hadn’t been enough to ease that tension he’d arrived with. “I did not have much of a choice, just as I do not have much of a choice as to whether or not I stay here.”

“Says who? Cethin?”

“Saylah,” he ground out. “How long are you going to pretend that door isn’t the only thing keeping you on your feet?”

She leveled him with a glare. “What do you mean Saylah says you cannot stay here?”

“I am Cethin’s Guardian. I need to be where he is. You know. To guard him,” he replied. He took a step towards her, but she held up a hand.

“I don’t need your help.”

He sighed, looking towards the ceiling as if asking the gods for patience. “Come sit down, Eliza. I should not have taken so much at once. I apologize.”

Her brows shot up. “I’m your Source. Isn’t that my purpose?”

That muscle ticked in his jaw. “Come sit down,” he repeated, stepping to the side and out of her path.

She sucked in a breath to steady herself before moving as quickly as she dared to the sofa in front of the hearth.

She sank down onto it, holding in her sigh of relief.

That would take some getting used to. She rarely let her power get this low.

Only when she had forced herself to train with low reserves.

She could do it, but it was uncomfortable and jarring.

Razik didn’t make any move to help her, but she heard him mutter under his breath something along the lines of “so damn stubborn.”

“You’re one to talk,” she retorted.

“It’s not supposed to be like this,” he said, ignoring her small outburst.

“Like what?”

“We are not supposed to be separated by an ocean, Eliza.”

Eliza. He hadn’t called her any of his pet names since he’d returned. Not once. She should be relieved. Instead, she was irritated that she even noticed.

“When you offered to do this, I assumed you understood we could not be separated. Part of that lifelong commitment we discussed,” he was saying.

She tipped her head back to look up at him. “You thought I would stay in Avonleya? Why would you think that?”

He stared at her. “Again, because of that whole lifelong commitment thing.”

Instead of replying, she leaned back into the sofa, resting her head against the back and letting her eyes fall closed. She was tired after he’d drained her magic, and—

“I’m staying in your rooms while I am here.”

Her eyes snapped back open at that. “You most certainly are not.”

He was prowling towards her now, and she was pressing herself into the sofa even more as he lowered down beside her.

“If you are not coming back with me, I’m staying near you.

This relationship is supposed to be a give-and-take, Eliza.

You give me power; I give you protection and care in return.

I have nearly drained you of your magic.

It is instinct for me to watch over you when you are vulnerable. ”

“I’m not vulnerable,” she muttered.

“You were holding yourself up with a door.”

“I was adjusting. I will be fine in a few minutes. I’ve trained for this.”

He huffed out another harsh breath of frustration. “I did not mean to imply that you are weak. I know you are anything but.”

“You know nothing about me,” she retorted.

“I know more than you think.” His eyes dipped to her chest, to where a Curse Mark adorned her skin beneath her tunic, before he met her gaze once more.

“Who told you about that?” she hissed, the sting of betrayal making her ears ring.

“I’ve seen it before. That night you reacted poorly to the Healer’s tonic.”

“I know you’ve seen it. Who told you what it was?”

“No one. I have studied ancient magic and Marks for decades. The first time I saw it, I knew what it was.” His tone had gone impossibly soft for the male she knew him to be. Her gaze went to her lap because she didn’t want to see the sympathy shining in his. “Who gave you that Mark, Eliza?”

“You need to leave.” Her chest was tight, breathing too difficult, as the memory of receiving that Mark surged to the forefront of her mind.

At a blade being dragged across her mother’s throat.

At men holding her down while the male she’d known to be her father gave her the Mark.

Curse Marks were just that. A curse. From the moment they were given. They burned when etched into one’s skin. She’d never experienced the pain of a burn until that day—not with fire in her veins—and this one seared her very soul.

Then there was being abandoned, left to fend for herself. Having to learn to trust again, and still not letting anyone really see all of her.

“I know those feelings, mai dragocen .”

She’d forgotten he was still sitting there with the flood of memories. Her emotions had to be screaming at him down the bond she did not want.

“Who gave you that Mark, Eliza?” he repeated.

“It does not matter. It’s done. Please leave.”

“I’m not leaving. Not after I all but drained you of your magic.” She turned to look at him. His body was angled towards her, his arm draped along the back of the sofa, fingers resting near her shoulder. “It’s not supposed to be like this,” he said again.

“None of it is supposed to be like this,” she replied. “But life does not give a shit about how things are supposed to be.”

“That is a fair statement,” he conceded. He shifted his arm along the back of the sofa, bringing his hand up to rest his temple against his fist as he studied her. He didn’t say anything else, a comfortable silence settling between them.

Finally, Eliza said, “You can stay in my rooms under two conditions.”

“I cannot wait to hear what they are,” he replied dryly.

“You’re sleeping out here. On the sofa.”

A brow arched. “We have shared a bed before. Was I not behaved?”

She scowled at him. “You said we never needed to discuss that again. Stay out here, or find another room.”