Page 33 of Avaritia

Aderith had shown me a small sitting room with a balcony that I’d been making use of, but she hadn’t volunteered to give me more of a tour than that, and I hadn’t asked. But surely I was allowed to poke around a little on my own? Theon had put a ring on it—and by ring, I meant scary fuck-off-looking bite mark on my neck—so surely I was allowed to wander as I pleased? He’d offered me a whole wing of the house for Fester in the heat of the moment too, I just hadn’t got around to taking him up on it. It was difficult when I only saw him at our scheduled midday meal and he spent most of those staring at me like he could crack open my brain if he just put enough thought into it.

I steered well clear of Rainy’s entire corridor, even though she was at her mother’s house. If anyone was going to materialize out of thin air and give me that twins-from-The-Shining stare, it was Rainy.

To my disappointment, the entire second floor was just empty, dusty bedrooms. Theon had said this was a palace once, so I guessed all the rooms made sense. There were a billion Shades at the current court, and presumably, they needed somewhere to sleep.

It didn’t make for the most interesting exploring, though I did note that almost all of the rooms were larger and grander than mine. Mine didn’t have rooms on either side though, just the secret staircase that led up to Theon’s private room. I guessed the mistress dungeon had been designed with discretion rather than grandeur in mind.

Maybe I could clean a couple of these rooms and invite Tallulah and Meera to stay if they ever wanted a break from Elverston House? If I could convince Theon to rein in the treasonous thoughts around company, we could totally have guests. On reflection, he’d mostly behaved himself at the dinner party. He hadn’t said anything about overthrowing Allerick, at least. Clearly, he could read the room when he wanted to.

It was at the end of one corridor, while I was admiring a bust of what appeared to be a previous monarch, sculpted out of what looked like onyx, that I realized I was being followed. There wasn’t even the faintest hint of a sound behind me, no brush of air, or a scent to give it away. I just knew. I could feel it in the center of my chest. The compass that was the bond to Theon was pointing to him at all times, my new north.

He was close.

“If you want to make it fun, then chase me down for it, I do love a hunt.”

Was he taking me up on my challenge? A shiver ran down my spine, apprehension and arousal duking it out for dominance. You shouldn’t be enjoying this, a voice whispered in my head, sounding eerily like Sebastian’s judgmental mother. A voice of quiet condemnation that I hadn’t been quite able to shake, reminding me that I was an inherently broken person, even ten years on. This is wrong.

But it didn’t feel wrong. It felt thrilling, and yet safe at the same time. This was Theon. I wasn’t in any danger from him—if for no other reason than he needed me to feed.

We could both get what we wanted out of this.

And what I wanted was to be stalked and hunted through the safe confines of the manor walls. I wanted to run. I wanted him to chase me. To pin me down. To take.

I could psychoanalyze the why of that later.

Or better yet, I could not. I could just enjoy the pleasure and never question it. That sounded way better.

Experimentally, I picked up my pace, the thud of my boots echoing with each step along the corridor. I turned a corner, feeling Theon keep pace with me. My heart pounded a little faster in my chest as I started properly power walking before eventually breaking into a light jog. There were stairs up ahead, and I made a beeline for them, heading up to the third floor.

Something brushed the back of my legs, and I let out a muffled shriek, stumbling slightly on the top step before breaking into a run, narrowly avoiding a plinth with a heavy-looking vase balanced precariously on top.

The gusset of my panties was sticking to my skin, slick dripping out of me at the most rapid rate it ever had.

Catch me, I chanted in my head. Catch me, catch me, catch me.

I turned one corner, then another, finding myself in front of a heavy door I didn’t recognize. Since the only other option was to turn around and go back, I pressed the handle down and threw my shoulder against it, hefting it open one creak at a time.

It was a library, though it didn’t look as though it got much use. The tall outer walls were lined with shelves, and there were lower ones in rows along the middle of the room, occasionally interspersed with heavy writing desks or grand leather armchairs. I crept between the rows, peering over the low gaps in the shelves.

The door didn’t open.

My heart was thudding like a bass drum in my chest, drowned out only by my woeful attempts at breathing quietly.

Had I imagined this whole thing? It would be so on-brand for me to work myself into a horny lather over a newfound hunting fantasy, only to be running around the corridors by myself like a lunatic.

Worst case scenario, I had a pastel pink merman dildo with a suction base that I hadn’t had a chance to try out yet. I was plenty lubed up for it now.

The pull in my chest hadn’t eased, though.

I crept through the rows of shelves, peeking over the tops of books and checking behind me every couple of seconds. It was so quiet. The bond said he was close, but he couldn’t possibly be in this room—

Something wrapped around my ankles and before I could scream, a clawed hand slammed over my mouth, yanking me back against a hard body. I grabbed Theon’s wrist instinctively, tugging at him to release me, writhing in his unbreakable grip.

“Settle,” he drawled, the pure arrogance in his voice setting my nerves alight. “If you want me to release you, to leave this room and let you continue your afternoon undisturbed, squeeze my wrist three times.”

My fingers stilled. Fuck no, I didn’t want that. This was the most excitement I’d had in days. Possibly years.

Possibly ever.

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