Page 17 of Zel (The GriMM Tales #2)

Zel caught the trajectory of the bandit’s arm bringing the dagger down.

It stopped, a mere prick away from nicking the skin of Zel’s neck.

Zel did not look afraid at all, and Ulrich knew why.

Zel had fallen on purpose, ended in that exact position on purpose, for that hold would make it only too easy to tilt the dagger upward and pierce through the hollow of the bandit’s throat.

Impressive, but as much as Ulrich wanted to watch Zel complete the act, he also wanted that soul.

Ulrich pounced from out of the trees much like the bandit had.

He was half shadow, like the haze of clouds over the face of the moon, as he hurled the bandit off of Zel, sending the dagger skittering across the dead grass and brittle leaves.

Ulrich rose like shadow too, towering to an even greater height, and the guise of a mortal elf fell away to reveal his abyssal majesty.

He lifted the bandit from the ground by the edges of his dirty, tattered surcoat.

The man barely got out a scream before Ulrich was siphoning his soul from that open mouth and swallowing it like wine.

It tasted just as heady, lessening the sharp sting of Ulrich’s senses like wine could too.

But as he had told Zel, this was the only time when Ulrich felt no pain at all.

Aside from touching Zel.

The eventual husk of the bandit stared blankly, still alive for the briefest of moments before Ulrich dropped him to the cold ground with a crunch.

Ulrich turned toward the still horizontal figure of Zel on the path.

There was the fear Ulrich had caught a glimpse of when he looked up at Zel’s window that first night.

Clearly, Zel worried about becoming one of Ulrich’s future meals.

Good. It was good for Zel to feel some fear.

Fear could lead to so many useful truths.

Ulrich straightened his robes, immediately veiling himself again in his disguise. “This one we can leave.” He looked at the body and then back down the path toward the fork that led to the Dark Forest. “Herr Candy will find use for it.”

Without elaborating further on that either, Ulrich returned to Zel to offer a helping hand.

“Thank you, my lord.” Zel took it, also straightening disheveled clothing once back on solid ground. There was a stiffness to Zel’s posture that Ulrich did not think was solely because of him. “I could not have survived such an encounter without you.”

Liar , but Zel did not know Ulrich had been watching the entire time. “Are you all right?” he asked.

“Of course.” Zel’s eyes did not say the same, and Ulrich kept their gazes locked in wait for the truth.

Zel sighed. “He… called me a name I do not care for. Pretty petal? Lothar, who runs the Thieves Guild, also calls me that. He has never wronged me directly, but his attention has never sat right with me. He controls the guild and all who are in it. He scarred my mother, when the mark you left on her healed. And he covets my company. He has made that much clear.”

A swell of possession overtook Ulrich. He did not like the thought of anyone coveting Zel’s company, and definitely not anyone acquiring it. He was glad to know that this Lothar had not gotten what he wanted thus far, but now Ulrich wondered who had.

Zel had been honest about being a virgin, but also about that not meaning untouched .

“How disappointed he must have been when you left,” Ulrich said, picking a few stray leaves from Zel’s hair. “Pretty as you are, I will be certain to never call you that myself… little cabbage ,” he ended on a whisper.

Zel laughed, and the clouds cleared from those vivid green eyes. “Cabbage? Shouldn’t it be ‘little lettuce’?”

“Lettuce can be frail. But cabbage, while similar, is stronger than it looks.” Ulrich continued to smooth Zel’s hair and pick out debris from the tousle on the ground.

He took his time, because only with his fingers in contact with those locks did he feel as if he might never need another soul again, especially with Zel’s eyes on him.

Eventually, the chill in the air, or perhaps Ulrich’s lingering closeness, caused Zel to shiver. Ulrich saw the added gooseflesh forming across Zel’s skin. Saw the invitation wrought with hesitation in Zel’s eyes. All of it seemed so real, despite knowing there were lies hidden within the truths.

“Shall we return to the tower?” Ulrich suggested.

“To do what, my lord?” Zel smiled, banishing at least a little of that hesitancy.

“By the time we return, we will have worked up an appetite again.”

“Oh?”

“Aren’t you starting to crave something, Zel?”

“Are you, my lord?”

“For lunch . Then afterward…” Ulrich bent closer, so his lips were right beside Zel’s ear. “I will give you time alone before dinner.”

Zel’s inhale was audible when Ulrich almost bent low enough for his lips to brush Zel’s skin, but then he didn’t. He lifted his head, reached with his blackened hand, and led Zel by the small of the back, turning them to return in the direction of the tower.

If Zel was disappointed by the tease, nothing was spoken to express it.

The question remained: did Zel deserve the fate Ulrich originally had planned?

And now, another question had surfaced: regardless of what Ulrich decided, would he indulge in Zel first?

Because gods above, he was starting to want to.