Page 31 of Twisted Souls (Twisted Souls #1)

Zara

We rode through the night, exhaustion weighing on us with every passing hour. By midday, we reached Clawthorn, a small village nestled in the shadow of jagged hills. The sight of the inn, “The Weepy Serpent”, was a relief, promising food, hot baths, and much-needed sleep.

The journey had been anything but quiet. Xavier spent most of it catching Jaxon up on the events in the village, the caves, and the Vorrak. His recounting was precise, yet when it came to my encounter with the Fate, his tone turned purposefully vague.

They had pressed for information, but I didn’t give them any, much to their growing irritation. Their conversation had revolved endlessly around the Vorrak, each mention sending a chill down my spine.

I had remained silent for most of the journey, wishing I could erase the entire experience from my memory.

Dedra did not stir the entire ride. Her face was littered with bruises, their yellow-green hue deepening into purple and blue under the shifting moonlight. According to Jaxon, she had a fractured skull, three broken ribs, and a punctured lung. The healer had mended her injuries as best she could, but the poison from the Daka was too widespread. Until the antidote fully purged it from her system, her magic wouldn’t function properly. She needed rest to replenish her strength.

As we approached the inn, I couldn’t help but notice that it looked like it was about to collapse in on itself. It was a crooked, leaning structure with warped wood. Years of grime and soot blackened the walls, and the uneven roof sagged in scattered places.

As we stepped inside, the air was thick with the mingled smells of unwashed bodies, stale ale, and the faint sour tang of spilled stew. The floorboards groaned under our weight, warped and uneven like everything else in the place. The low ceiling hung ominously close, its wooden beams dark even in the faint light.

To the right, a door opened into the bar, where villagers sat hunched over rough-hewn tables. Dark cloaks shrouded their figures, their faces hidden as they nursed tankards of ale and picked at bowls of greasy stew.

Behind the desk stood a haggard woman, her frame thin and bent like a worn-out willow. Strands of unkempt brown hair framed a gaunt face etched with deep lines. Her large black eyes, shadowed with exhaustion, flicked over us as we entered.

The moment her gaze landed on Xavier, her eyes widened with recognition. A sharp intake of breath escaped her lips, and she quickly dipped into an awkward bow.

“Your Majesty,” she murmured, her voice rasping like dry leaves.

Xavier’s smile was faint but kind. “There’s no need for formalities,” he said gently, his voice carrying an effortless calm that seemed to steady the innkeeper’s trembling hands.

She only had two rooms available. Given Dedra’s injuries and the uncertainty of her condition when she woke, it was decided that Jaxon would stay in a room with her while Xavier and I shared the other. My protests went unheard as Jaxon carried Dedra up the narrow stairs to their room.

Xavier seemed to glare down at me, and I narrowed my eyes right back at him, snatching the room key from his hand before following Jaxon up the creaky stairs.

The room was small—no, scratch that—it was tiny. I groaned. There was barely enough space for the single bed and the small dresser crammed into the corner. The walls pressed close, and even the window seemed too small for the shrunken space.

A narrow door near the bed caught my attention. Opening it, I let out a sigh of relief.

A bath.

The small tub inside was just big enough for one person, and even that might be a stretch. But I didn’t care. The thought of being clean practically made me moan in delight. Turning on the water, I began peeling off my grimy clothes and got in.

I scrubbed myself raw, scrubbing at my hair and nails until the water ran clear. But no matter how hard I scrubbed, I still felt tainted from the previous day.

There was a knock at the door, and I froze.

“I've brought your pack and some stew from the kitchens,” Xavier announced.

I could hear him moving around in the room, and I slowly got out of the tub and dried myself off with a towel. I wrapped it around my body before opening the door and stepping inside.

Xavier stood in the middle of the tiny space, rummaging through his bag—naked.

His back was toward me, and my eyes dropped down to his perfectly sculpted ass before I let out a shriek of surprise, spinning around to face the wall. “Why are you naked?!” I hissed, and I could feel his amusement like a palpable energy filling the room. I could picture his lazy grin as I heard him walking toward me. He stopped just behind me, his body encompassing mine without touching, although it felt like he was.

“It’s nothing you haven’t already seen before,” he practically purred as he maneuvered around me and into the bathing room. I watched as his naked form stalked for the tub. I had to force myself to look away, swinging the door closed as I turned back into the main room.

“Pig.” I huffed under my breath and could have sworn I heard him chuckle. I rolled my eyes and pulled on some underwear before throwing a silky, deep blue nightshirt over my head. It fell to my mid-thigh, and I sat on the bed, pulling one of the steaming bowls of stew Xavier had brought onto my lap, and took a bite.

The tender pieces of meat fell apart in my mouth like butter, and I scarfed down the entire bowl within minutes. Exhaustion weighed on me, and I set the empty bowl down on the dresser and sat back on the bed. Leaning back, I let out a painful yawn while waiting for Xavier to get out of the bath so we could discuss our sleeping arrangements.

I must have drifted to sleep as the creaking of the bed woke me as Xavier lowered himself next to me. I jolted awake, but he only pushed me gently back down onto the mattress.

“We have shared a bed before,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “I promise I won't bite,” he said sleepily as he lay fully on the bed beside me.

“And you were all over me the next morning,” I said through another yawn, narrowing my eyes on him.

“If memory serves, it was you who was clinging onto me,” Xavier said softly, his eyes flashing with amusement.

I was too tired to argue and rolled over, putting my back to him. I must have accidentally moved backward as I turned, and my ass hit into him. I lurched forward, and warm, callused hands caught me before I could face plant onto the wooden floor. Muttering a curse, Xavier pulled me back onto the bed, rolling me onto my back, his body now hovering over mine. He trailed his heated eyes brazenly down my body, and I couldn’t help but do the same. He was shirtless, damn him, but at least he was wearing pants this time.

I dragged my gaze down his sculpted chest, lingering on the sculpted lines of his stomach and even lower to the sharp V that disappeared into his soft, baggy pants. My toes curled, my thighs pressing together, and I couldn’t stop my body from reacting to him as lust coursed through me, hot and heady.

Xavier leaned in close. “See something you like?” he whispered, his voice rough, lips curling into a teasing smirk.

I swallowed, my mouth suddenly too dry as I tore my eyes from his chest to meet his gaze. His emerald eyes sparkled with a predatory gleam as he seemed to lean in closer, his mouth going to my ear.

“Tell me, Zara. Did the Fates show me in your future?” Xavier’s voice was low, a dangerous whisper that sent a shiver through me. His breath lingered against my ear, warm and teasing, making every nerve in my body ache. His hand slid up my leg, the pads of his fingers barely grazing the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. When his hand settled on my hip, the fabric of my nightgown bunched beneath his touch. He stroked his thumb across my hip, his fingers brushing against the lacy fabric of my underwear underneath.

I took a shaky breath as his eyes dipped to my lips again.

“Did they show you us like this?” His voice was a rasp, barely more than a whisper, his face so close that I could feel the heat of his breath against my lips, as he hovered just a breath away from mine. His hand slid up to my waist, his touch sending a jolt of heat through me as he squeezed gently, possessively.

“No.” I lied, the words shaky and unconvincing.

Xavier’s lips curled into a smirk, the warm exhale of his breath brushing against my mouth. “Liar,” he murmured, the word thick with both amusement and desire.

My body burned, the exhaustion long gone, replaced by a pulsing awareness that hummed through every inch of me. He removed his hand from my waist and reached for mine, gently placing it on his chest. His heart beat hard beneath my palm, the rhythm matching my own racing pulse.

“Do you feel that?” he breathed.

I could only shake my head in response, a swirl of confusion and something else rising inside me. His gaze softened, his thumb brushing over my knuckles before he released my hand. His eyes flickered to my lips briefly, the moment stretching between us before he leaned away. The covers shifted as he pulled them over us, then turned his back to me, the sudden space leaving a stark emptiness in its wake.

I let out a ragged breath, and I could hear my heartbeat in my ears as I tried to level my breathing. It was infuriating how he affected me so deeply, so effortlessly. What was it about him that made me react this way? Feel this way? Why did a simple tease from him do this to me?

I longed to understand why the Fates showed us together. Why my magic brought me to him, over and over again,

I replayed the moment in my head…Perhaps this was a game to him, I thought bitterly. But why? Was it merely for his amusement, or did he truly feel it too, this unnatural pull between us?

I shifted uncomfortably on the bed, my eyes skimming down his exposed back and catching the swirls of his tattoo on his shoulder. He had drawn the shades, but the midday light still shone through the window, illuminating the room in a soft glow.

“I saw myself with your tattoo,” I admitted, and Xavier stiffened on the bed. He turned slowly to face me again, but he didn’t respond. He merely grunted as if in confirmation of something, waiting for me to continue.

“I had it in my visions; every single one they showed me,” I continued, and he stared at me silently, his eyes deepening with a feral, unguarded heat that stole the air from my lungs.

The white strand of his hair fell over his eyes, and without thought, I reached out to move it aside—something I'd wanted to do numerous times now.

Xavier's eyes closed in response, and I withdrew my hand, taking in the curve of his face and the stubble that now shadowed his jaw.

“Why?” I breathed, and his eyes shot open.

“I don’t think you are ready to hear that answer,” he said, his tone low and gruff.

“Why?” I persisted, but he only shook his head.

I stared at him icily, ready to turn away, but he stopped me, his hand tangling in my hair. He pulled me toward him, his eyes blazing as he held my face to his.

“What did the Fates show you, Zara?” He asked again, his voice tight, the words laced with simmering anger he struggled to hold back. I glowered at him, my gaze flickering between his eyes and his lips.

“Nothing.” I lied again, my heart racing. I didn’t try to push him away, even though my hand pressed into the hard lines of his chest. My breath came out uneven, and a low growl seemed to come from deep in Xavier's chest. My lips parted, and I leaned forward.

His grip on my hair tightened, but he leaned away, his eyes searching mine as I stared back at him, unable to move or think.

“Liar,” he whispered again, his voice low and rough.

His lips crashed onto mine, the kiss fierce, almost desperate, as if he were claiming something that had always been his. He tasted like the darkest sin, his citrus scent filling my lungs as he tugged at my hair. My lips parted for him, and his tongue swept inside, tasting of whiskey and smoke. He tilted my head back, deepening the kiss as his other hand slid to my waist. His fingers burned through the thin fabric of my gown, pulling me closer as my nails dug into the hard muscles of his shoulders. The heat of him was intoxicating, and I craved the weight of him, the pressure of his body over mine.

As if he’d read my mind, he moved in one swift motion, positioning himself on top of me. His mouth devoured mine with a feverish urgency. I could feel the heat of his body, the hard planes of his chest pressing into me, and the undeniable pressure of his arousal through the thin fabric of his pants.

His hand, calloused yet gentle, left my hair, cradling my face in a tender touch. My heart thundered in my chest as his lips left mine, pulling away suddenly, leaving me gasping for air. His emerald eyes caught mine, his gaze searing. He roamed over my face, like he was memorizing every curve and every line.

Then, he kissed me again, but this time, it was different. The passion was still there, but now it was soft and reverent. His lips caressed mine, the kiss lingering longer and tasting sweeter, as if savoring the moment. He pulled away just enough to rest his forehead against mine, the warmth of his breath mingling with my own.

“You’re going to be the ruin of me,” he whispered, his voice rougher this time, laden with a dark promise that sank deep into my soul.

“Sleep,” Xavier ordered, his voice a haunting whisper, as the weight of his body lessened, and he turned away from me once more. His touch felt branded on my skin, my lips… and I didn’t move as I processed what had just happened. I forced myself to turn over, but all I could feel, all I could think of, was him.