Page 9 of Zel (The GriMM Tales #2)

Zel shuddered. The way that single syllable rolled off the sorcerer’s tongue was sinful. And though he had given Zel his name, he accepted the request so easily. “I wasn’t certain. You named me, after all.”

“As a reminder for your parents, but you made the name your own. I respect that.”

“May I know your name, Master Sorcerer?”

“You may.” He held his left hand out to Zel, but this time turned it palm up in offering for Zel to decide whether to touch it. The nails on that ashen colored hand were pristine, lovely even, but almost unnaturally sharp. “I am Ulrich. And yes, you may address me as such.”

“As you wish, Master Ulrich.” Zel placed his hand in the sorcerer’s grasp.

“If you insist on titling me, lord is fine, but I am no one’s master.

Not anymore.” Ulrich lifted Zel’s hand to his lips and kissed it, gentle with his hold so that even where his nails pressed against Zel’s skin, they did not prick him.

The aura about Ulrich was indeed terrifying but also alluring in a way Zel had never felt with Lothar. Nor with anyone.

“Perhaps I find you a bit bewitching,” Zel admitted.

“Good. A bride should not fear a future bridegroom. Nor look upon him without desire. But I assure you, there is no spell that could dictate how you feel or act toward me, and no item I would use to force such a thing. I abhor that kind of magic, for I prefer truth.” Ulrich lingered, the grip he had on Zel’s hand stroking down his fingers.

Zel’s loins stirred. This was better than the worst-case scenario, but still not ideal if Zel couldn’t temper him. At least in some things, Ulrich was superior to Lothar if he didn’t condone magic like what infused Lothar’s control collars. “My lord, would you grant your future bride a request?”

“Ask, and we shall see.”

“Would you promise to not bring me to your bed until we are wed?”

A smile softened the intensity of Ulrich’s gaze. “Do you expect me to be a brute?”

“I do not know what to expect, only what I have been told. You do not seem like a brute.”

“May I ask something of you, Zel?”

“You may.”

“Are you a virgin?”

A spike of fear pierced Zel’s heart. “Y-yes.”

Ulrich fixed him with an unwavering stare.

“The, um, virtue expected of a bride remains intact.”

Ulrich chuckled. “Now that is an honest answer. Are you generally honest, Zel?”

“Generally.”

“As am I. You are not to be mistreated. This month is for me to know you.”

“To assess my worth?”

“Yes.”

“And if I displease you before the month is over?”

“Are you going to displease me?” Ulrich asked.

“I cannot say, but so far you have not displeased me.”

“Another honest answer.” Ulrich leaned forward, lowering his towering height to Zel’s level.

“I respond viciously when wronged, against trespassers, thieves, and liars in my midst, but to one who shows me their true self, I can be kind. Shall I show you around the rest of the tower?” He snapped upright again, leaving Zel to mull over the obvious threat.

“There is more to see?” Zel glanced around.

The room was also as his parents had described.

A lone window looked out toward the heart of the kingdom.

There were shelves of books along the walls and more filled with bottles and jars.

One shelf was covered in magical trinkets.

There was a chaise in one area and a desk in another beside a second door, which, given the size of the tower, could only lead to a closet or to another set of stairs.

Or so Zel thought.

With a motion of his arm, Ulrich bid Zel to follow him across the room toward that second door.

When they reached it, he pulled a key from a pocket inside his robes and handed it to Zel.

The key was brass but polished enough that it almost looked gold.

It had an intricately shaped bow. The oval within the bow’s empty space almost seemed to shimmer like a rainbow stretched across it.

The stem was long, but the three key bits were short, each decreasing in length to an almost tapered end.

“Oh yes,” Ulrich said. “There is much more to see.”

ULRICH

Z el’s parents had indeed been an attractive pair, though Ulrich hadn’t honestly cared whether or not their child would inherit their beauty.

He had not asked for beautiful. He had asked for his rules to be followed, and they had been.

Those foolish enough to have eaten the lettuce when not bidden to had gotten their punishment, but Zel had not gone a single day since birth without eating at least a leaf of Ulrich’s lettuce.

The green eyes and radiantly golden hair were proof of that.

Zel glowed with all that magic, a truly magnificent bride-to-be and already dressed in a wedding gown.

Ulrich was almost tempted to take the young mortal to his bed that night.

It had been so long since he had known another’s touch.

But he was no such brute, and after all, Zel had asked so sweetly for him to wait.

What a marvelous deceiver. Perfect to be the sacrifice to achieve Ulrich’s goal.

“Go on.” He motioned for Zel to use the key on the lock. “Insert it and give the key a quarter turn. Then open the door.”

Zel seemed cautious, smartly so, but did as requested and turned the key one click to the right.