Page 38 of Tethered In Blood

I wantedmore.

I wanted tokeepchasing her.

Ineededto catch her.

My boots skidded across the damp soil as I pivoted, mirroring her. When we slowed, the bitter air seared my lungs, and my chest heaved with ragged breaths.

“Herbalist.”

She stood before me, heaving, her cheeks flushed and lips parted. Wild, untamed strands of dark hair clung to her face. The smudges beneath her amber eyes did nothing to dull the fire within them. She was still immersed in it, still exhilarated as I was, caught up in the thrill of the chase, as if she hadn’t just guided me through the most maddening pursuit of my life. My gaze dropped, and my breath hitched for an entirely different reason.

Her skirts lifted as she adjusted her stance, and for the briefest moment, there was a flash of skin. The smooth curve of her thigh, the taut muscle beneath pale flesh, flexed. Molten heat slammed through me in a violent, gut-wrenching pulse of desire. A need so intense and sudden it had my cock twitching, straining uncomfortably against my pants. The reaction was instant and visceral as my body betrayed me before my mind could suppress it.

In one swift motion, a dagger was unsheathed from its holster against her thigh as she suddenly dropped to her knees.Saints.It was effortless, strikingly graceful, and precise. Every movement was controlled. Heat licked up my spine. My pulse stuttered, and my teeth ground together as I sucked in a sharp breath, trying and failing to wrestle my thoughts back into focus.

The iron-laced smell of blood hit the air when a dark line split across her palm, glistening under the moonlight.

The world tilted.

My focus snapped, and my vision turned red. Everything inside me coiled as I braced against the force of the new sensation crashing through me. I inhaled sharply through my nose, but it did nothing to stop the twisting in my gut.

The words tore from me, angry and desperate. “What the hells are you doing?” She didn’t flinch. Blood dripped from her clenched fist, sizzling as it hit the vine at her feet. The muscle in my jaw locked so tightly it ached.

I focused on how the plant reacted to her blood, on her. Alric had been right. It was magic. And I had utterly fucking missed it.

“Magic,” she murmured, as if she had plucked the realization straight from my mind. Her bright, steady eyes met mine. “This is what has been poisoning them.” A pause. The weight of the truth settled between us. “They have been burning this in their wood.”

A smoldering fury washed over me.

“How the fuck did you know that?” I glowered, stepping closer.

Her eyes narrowed. “Oh, I don’t know, Sinclaire,” she mocked. “Maybe it’s because I pay attention?”

Heat flared across my skin, my pulse still hammering. She was bleeding, crimson streaks marring the pale canvas of her skin, and instead of tending to it, she merely glared at me.

My jaw ticked as I took another step. “That doesn’t answer my damn question.” She must have placed it there. There was no way I could have overlooked this. There was no way she had found a solution while I had found nothing. She knew more than she was letting on. And I was determined to make her explain herself.

She scoffed and crossed her arms, letting her injured hand dangle carelessly. Blood dripped from her fingertips, dark and glistening. “Solving this is my job. I consider everything, not just what’s in front of me. Unlike you, who glares and threatens until everything falls into place.”

A slow breath dragged through my teeth.

She was challenging. Exasperating. Maddening.

Yet, the blood on her skin, the flush in her cheeks, the sharp snap of her voice… The frustration, that dark, twisting hunger, created an unbearable heat pooling in my stomach. I dragged a hand through my hair as my control continued to wane. My pulse was a deafening drumbeat in my ears, overwhelming reason. My vision narrowed until the world became nothing but the stark red of her blood against her skin.

I had killed men without hesitation. I had made them beg for death, drawn out their suffering until the only mercy left was the blade in my hand. But seeing her blood sent a rush of aggravation through me. Made my hands itch and my restraint fray.

It shouldn’t have.

My job was to protect her and ensure she completed this mission. That’s why it bothered me and why I was so damn close to losing control. I failed to protect her. That must have been it.

She managed one step before my hand shot out, locked around her wrist, and yanked her back hard. Her spine hit the tree with a dull thud, an impact that rattled through both of us. My grip secured her wrists, pinning them above her head. A sharp, pained gasp escaped her lips. My pulse quickened, and my breathing became rough. Quinn twisted against my hold, her amber eyes flashing. “What in the five hells is your problem?”

My free hand pressed against the tree beside her head, fingers curled around the rough bark as I enclosed her. “You knew what to look for,” I growled. “You recognized it before I did.”

She scoffed and tugged at her wrists again in a futile struggle against my grip. “I’m an herbalist,” she hissed through gritted teeth. “It’s my job to know. That’s why they sent me here, not just you.”

I leaned in closer, close enough to convey the weight of my presence and the unspoken threat. “No, Dilthen Doe.” My voice was a whisper of steel.

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