Page 175 of A Bond in Blood

They both began to move after a subtle nod of approval from me. To my surprise, Ulrich’s hand found mine and Olen’s, gripping us while they both thrusted into me. Their groans sent chills down my body, and I held them both tighter.

Wondering how in the Gods I was falling so far into the darkness, and why I wanted more to consume my soul.

Chapter 34

Ten months.

Two hundred and eighty days.

Two weeks since Bjorn’s banishment and that night of sin-filled lust with Olen and Ulrich.

I leaned back on my hands, staring out at the water from Ulrich’s beach under the palace while my mind pondered it all.

There was a new peace settling into my soul. A possibility of acceptance for the remaining months of my service. An understanding that perhaps the next four months would not be met with brutality and that mine and Ulrich’s war had finally ceased.

Neither of us claiming full victory, but both sides conceding our battles.

The sun began to set, and I breathed in the sea air, watching the red-moon rise above me.

“I wonder some days if I prefer to see you under the sun or the red of this moon.”

I moved my eyes upward, finding Ulrich standing beside me. His mask was white, one I had not seen yet.

He settled into the sand at my side, digging his fingers into the grains.

I was silent.

“What were you thinking about?” he asked quietly.

My lips trembled and I met his gaze.

“I wonder if it’s worth uttering,” I admitted. “I do not want to tempt Lokii to pull his jesting strings and ruin it all.”

Ulrich laughed.

My hands gripped the sand in response. The sound was so rare, but when he did allow it to grace his lips, it set my body on fire.

“Can I ask you a question?” I turned to meet his gaze again.

His eyes flared for a moment with what appeared to be panic before he nodded.

“Why the masks?”

“Not this again,” he groaned.

I shook my head. “I don’t mean the physical masks. Well, I do, but I mean the other ones.”

He was silent.

I turned to stare at him, studying the white barrier on his face.

“The masks of cruelty, of insanity. The face of a man determined to allow the world to hate him.”

“It appears you’ve made assumptions about me.”

I tried not to flinch at the bite in his response.

“I’m not wrong.”

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