Page 32 of With Wing And Claw

She made her decision in the blink of an eye.

A desperate reflex rather than a well-defined plan, but who cared so long as it worked? Who cared so long as it saved her from a stupid mistake she was guaranteed to regret? Her hand flew to the shelves behind her back, grabbling for the knife she’d hidden between the books – yes,therewas the smooth leather hilt—

A glint of light broke through the dusk as she swung her right hand up. The edge of the blade slid against Naxi’s pale throat the next moment – crude steel against vulnerable skin, and yet Thysandra’s fingers didn’t tremble.

‘Happy now?’ Her voice had gone rough. ‘If the wordnodoesn’t mean a damn thing to you, perhaps this makes my point. Get away from me, and—’

The corners of Naxi’s lips were trembling.

Oh no. Oh no, no, no. ‘What the hell are you laughing about?’

‘You’readorable, Sashka.’ The grin growing on that round, blushing face was nothing less than alarming – all shark’s teeth and sparkling villainy. ‘Did you really think I’d fall for that trick a second time, darling?’

‘What—’ she started, and then something slithered around her neck.

Around her shoulder.

Around her wrists.

A cold, leathery touch, not coarse like rope but smooth in the most alarming of ways, skimming across her heated skin and tightening on her arms, her chest …

Vines.

Those fuckingvineswere creeping over her wall with snake-like speed, slipping around her ankles, her thighs … They yanked back her knife hand, away from Naxi’s throat. The dagger clattered uselessly against the floorboards. And still the plants weren’t done, curling tighter and tighter around her limbs – pinning her against the bookshelves no matter how hard she tried to pull away from her bonds.

‘Oh, I really don’t recommend fighting them so much,’ Naxi muttered, stepping back to lean against the armrest of the couch. Her eyes gleamed with unholy delight. ‘They’ll only hold you more securely if you try to escape. For your own safety, of course – I really don’t want to have to fight you.’

The words barely registered.

Vines still skimmed across Thysandra’s bare skin, almosttenderlynow – a thousand maddening touches at once, caressing the hollow of her throat, the insides of her wrists. She tried to draw in a deep breath and found the plants had wrapped around her chest as well. Leaves brushed like lover’s fingers over the inside of her thighs, and before she could pull herself together, her body clenched around a sting of heat …

It was all she could do to swallowher moan.

‘Oh, dear,’ Naxi murmured, cocking her head. ‘Surely you’re not enjoying this, are you, Sashka?’

‘Of course I’m not,’ she ground out, despite knowing better, despite her own body betraying her with every ragged breath. Squeezing her eyes shut for a moment only made her feel every sensationmoreintensely, leaves stroking across her scarred wings, her nape, the sensitive spot behind her ear. ‘Why would I enjoy—’

The vines tightened like clawing fingers on her thighs.

Her hips bucked forward, a shameful, inadvertent confession – every fibre in her body straining closer to Naxi’s distant, delicate silhouette no matter how well she knew to stay away. Naxi laughed again, moving closer. It was dark enough now to see nothing but the glint of her eyes, the ravenous intensity in that gaze.

And then it was herfinger, not another bit of murderous greenery, that came sliding down Thysandra’s cheek, chin, throat … such a gossamer touch, incomprehensibly sweet against the relentless control of her nymph magic.

‘You can’t lie to me.’ That melodious sing-song voice, coming from miles away through the roar in Thysandra’s head. ‘You really should know that by now, Sashka. Do you like it, being all at my mercy?’

Yes.

‘No,’ she gasped.

‘And still you’re trying to deceive me.’ More fingers. Slipping across her collarbone, swirling idly over the swell of her heaving breasts. ‘Good thing I know better than to listen to your silly words, when that delicious body of yours is telling me all I need to know – you want my lips, don’t you, Sashka? Care to tell mewhereyou need them?’

Her body was a filthy traitor.

A slide of hot, slick arousal burned through her, down and down and down, blooming into a maddening ache at the apex of her thighs – and the vines responded instantly, tugging at her ankles, her knees, forcing her legs apart even as she cursed and wrestled against their inhuman hold.

She needed this. Needed itdesperately, and yet she could never,neverafford to have it – not if she wanted to survive another month, anotherdayin this world. It was weakness, the shameless lust soaking her underlinen. Utter humiliation, to lose all that control of herself. And weakness had nearly killed her once before, her pathetic pining for a love that never came; the hole it had left behind was still a gaping hollow in her chest, too bottomless to survive another fall into its shadows …

She could barely even think anymore.

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