Page 8 of Blood Tribute

She stood rooted to the spot. “You have a lair? On my lands?”

“Yes, but you cannot get in unless I take you there.”

“This is not part of our agreement.”

“Our agreement did not place any limitations on where your tribute will take place.”

“You cannot expect me to abscond with you.”

His gaze dropped to the grass. “I will not continue drinking from you in this place.”

Silence fell between them. If he had tried to trick or cajole her, she would have dug her heels in. But she could not, in truth, fault him for this. Neither of them wanted their next battle to take place here where their kin had died.

She had already placed herself at his mercy. What matter if she went deeper into danger with him?

She took his hand.

THREE

The Immortal’s Lair

I

This woman was the reasonDav’s brother was dead. She had no right to smell like life itself.

When she slid her hand in his, he fought the urge to pull her closer. His eyes focused on her wrist, and his fangs unsheathed at the memory of her skin giving way to his bite. The mere scent of her blood was enough to make him forget where they were.

He could not afford to forget. His brother’s life, which should have been eternal, had been cut short. Here. For the sake of this mortal’s fleeting existence.

Dav must never lose sight of this—Nora’s blood was a means to an end.

He took a step back, and with it, stepped away from the clearing with her. His effortless magic seemed to leave her reeling. She peered at their new surroundings, swaying on her feet, and stumbled into him.

As her body made contact with his, Dav cursed inwardly. He had forgotten that stepping with a Hesperine was uncomfortable for mortals who were not adjusted to it.

He’d also forgotten how long it had been since he’d held a female this close. Nora was bundled up in layers of wool and propriety, and yet the feeling of her leaning into him made his whole body tighten.

Grief was a twisted master. For months, it had isolated Dav. Now it threw Nora into his arms.

He set her on her feet and strode away, putting the table between them. She tracked him with her gaze, her brown eyes wary, as if he were a predator that might pounce.

“Does this look like a beast’s den?” he asked her.

She took in the warm spell lights, the paper and ink arranged on the table, the tidy scroll racks along the wall. The round chamber was all that remained of an ancient tower, but at least it was hospitable, for a ruin.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“A Hesperine Sanctuary. The spells over this place protect it from discovery and destruction. Your Order will never be able to find it.”

“Good. I don’t want them interfering with our agreement.”

She seemed to decide he was not about to make a human sacrifice of her at quill point. She roamed over to one of the arched windows. Her candid face lit up, and her aura shone, an unseen light he could feel with his arcane senses.

The Blood Union revealed all mortal emotions to Hesperines. It was, perhaps, their greatest magical ability…and greatest weakness. For five hundred years, Dav had vicariously experienced every shade of human experience, from joy to despair. And yet none of their emotions had sunk so deep into his veins as hers.

Her wonder glittered through him, a mockery of his own pain, and he wanted to claw her feelings out from under his skin.

She smiled, drawing his attention to her generous mouth. “This is the architectural style of the Great Temple Epoch! The structure must be at least fifteen centuries old.”

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