Page 102 of A Rising Hope

TRIUMPH

62

GIDEON

My eyelids felt as if they had been sewn shut as I forced them open. The room was encompassed in soothing, smooth darkness except for the bleak twinkle of the candlelight on the corner table across from the four-post bed I was on.

But while my eyes struggled, there was a certain easiness to my body. My shattered bones felt in place, limbs magically healed.

“Well, well, well . . . ” Finnleah’s voice drawled out from the shadowed corner, jolting me wide awake. “Kind of you tofinallywake up.” She smirked, her brow quirked up as she assessed me.

“What can I say? I couldn’t resist given the company.” I tried winking at her as I grinned, but my eyes felt so sluggish it was more of an ill-executed twitch.

Finnleah tilted her head to the side, carefully watching me. Her elbows rested on an ornate wicker chair; hands clasped on her stomach; dressed in black, laced up boots her feet crossed on the footrest by her chair. Her hair, as always, was poorly braided and tousled. She was dressed in a white shirt with a leather corset accentuating her perfect physique. I knew I was barely alive, but I found myself pathetically jealous of the fuckingleathers she was wearing, wishing it were me wrapped around her figure.

“So . . . ” she started, her sharp gaze focused on me, the deep emerald hue in her eyes reflecting the low twinkling light of the candle.

“So?” I asked, unable to look away from her even as my neck cramped. “Am I still dreaming?” I asked, as she glared at me.

“Oh, you’ll soon wish you were dreaming. But this is very much real,Lord of Death,” she snarkily shot back, and though I knew she intended a certain level of ire in her words, her sharp tone only made my heart beat faster.

“Too late to confess now?” I leered as I bit my bottom lip, wishing to feel her lips against mine.

“Confession won’t save you now, asshole,” she snapped, glowering at me.

“Where are we?” I looked around the room. The poor worn-out furniture, the mismatched sheets and a fresh coat of paint on the door trim told me we were in someone’s house.

“We are in Elkhawk.”

“Did you extort someone’s house?” I chuckled, turning back to her.

“They volunteered,” she responded.

Little liar. I shook my head, clicking my tongue, charmed by her begrudging attitude.

“I wouldn’t be laughing if I were you.” She folded her arms tight. “I’m still considering ditching your sorry ass in the field to be picked at by a bunch of crows.”

“Can’t get rid of me that easily, my love.” My eyes darkened as I let desire flash across my face. She masterfully ignored my look, returning to her cold, vicious stare.

The little fool didn’t know it only turned me on more.

“So I have learned,Lord of Death,” she uttered, her lips turning into a thin line.

“In spirit of full transparency, it’s Lord of Death,Godof Triumph.” I shrugged, feeling the nagging pain slowly return to my aching body.

The glass in the windows trembled and dust fell from the ceiling as a thundering roar, like an earthquake, rolled through whatever town we were lost in.

“What was that?” I glanced at the windows barely held in by their old wooden frames.

“My dragons,” she replied, not concerned about the occasional tremors felt through the ground.

“You have dragons now?” My brows rose to my hairline. “That’s . . . new.”

“You have a lot to catch up on.”

“Finnleah,” I calmly stated, our eyes doing most of the talking. We stared at each other without blinking. After a moment, she folded, making me smile.

“My Creator magic takes shape in the form of a creature within me. I am guessing with the raw fire in my veins, it only made sense to have it be a dragon. So when I released a portion of the Queen’s Creator magic, likeyouasked, by the way, it took the shape of actual dragons, breathing raw fire nonetheless.”

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