Page 42 of Taken By The Dark Three
Her stare lingers on my face, perhaps sensing the conflict simmering beneath my calm. We both know we share a tension that goes beyond the training yard. She shifts as though she might say something else, but remains silent. With a short nod, she heads off, a guard trailing at a respectful distance. I watch her go, the subtle curve of her back, the proud tilt of her head. My chest feels hollow once she’s out of sight.
Later, dusk settles across Orthani, painting the sky with a dull purple hue. I find myself drawn to the east wing again, standing outside the door of the private suite I’ve granted her. A swirl of nerves churns in my stomach. My mind replays the last time we were alone, how her nails raked my skin in a moment that was half fury, half surrender. The memory throbs, an ache that demands resolution.
I knock once, softly. For a tense moment, no sound emerges. Then footsteps approach, and the door creaks open. Selene stands there, her expression unreadable. She’s changed into a looser tunic, possibly the only spare garment provided. Candlelight from inside bathes her features. I see shadows under her eyes, hinting at unrelenting stress.
She lifts her chin. “Vaelith. What is it?”
My voice comes out in a murmur. “I wanted to ensure you’re settled. And… to speak without the training yard’s audience.”
She hesitates, then steps aside, letting me enter. The suite is modest but comfortable—bed, desk, a single flickering lamp. A small tray of food rests on a side table, half-eaten. She must have been hungry. The door clicks shut behind me, trapping us in a hush charged with everything unspoken.
I rake my gaze over the chamber, noticing she’s placed her dagger on the desk, within arm’s reach. Cautious as ever. My throat tightens. “I realize this arrangement is unusual, especially given our… complicated dynamic. But I prefer you have a measure of comfort.”
Her eyes flick away, then back. “Why does it matter to you, truly? The council might scold you for coddling me. They want me on a short leash, after all.”
I exhale, stepping closer until only a foot of space separates us. Her tense posture sets my nerves aflame. “Because last night changed some things,” I admit, voice almost too low. “I can’ttreat you like any other captive, nor pretend we’re only a soldier and a commander. Something’s shifted.”
She inhales sharply, glancing at the bed in the corner, then looking back at me. “You think a single encounter erases all the reasons we should hate each other?”
I meet her gaze, the sincerity in me pushing aside my usual stoicism. “No, it doesn’t erase them. But it complicates them. I still have my orders, and you’re still a purna who could tear Orthani’s foundations if you so choose. However, I can’t ignore that we… discovered a different side last night.”
Her lips curl in a half-smile tinged with bitterness. “A side soaked in blood and sweat. Is that truly enough to bridge the gap?”
I swallow. “I don’t know,” I murmur. “But I’m willing to see if we can find something beyond hatred and duty, at least for as long as we remain entangled in Orthani’s conflicts.”
She crosses her arms, perhaps a defensive gesture, or maybe one of contemplation. Candlelight flickers over her face, revealing the slightest tremble in her shoulders. “I appreciate the nicer room,” she says softly. “Though I suspect it’s as much about controlling me as it is about kindness.”
A pang hits my chest. “Maybe at first,” I confess. “But it’s not solely that. I… I disliked seeing you in the dungeons, especially after recognizing how vital you are. Let the council think about what they will do. I’m not letting you rot for no reason.”
She dips her head in acknowledgment, eyes glancing at the desk. “Then thank you,” she says quietly, echoing her earlier gratitude but with more clarity this time.
Silence hangs, charged with the memory of how we tasted each other, how we drove each other to near madness with a single spark. My heart hammers. I want to step forward, claim her mouth again, but caution trembles along my nerves. We’reboth raw. Another surge of violence-laced intimacy might break us more than it mends us.
She breaks the tension by shifting away, picking up the tray of unfinished food from the table. “I was… about to finish my meal. If you’re done with your lecture, I’ll do that.” Her tone tries for casual, but I hear the tension beneath.
I give a short nod. “Eat, then rest. Tomorrow, you’ll attend another war council. We might finalize your infiltration role if the generals are convinced. Are you prepared for that?”
She shrugs. “I can handle it. My infiltration might be your best shot at controlling the orc threat, right?”
A corner of my mouth lifts. “Yes, ironically. Good night, then.”
She watches me, an unreadable flicker in her gaze. My chest tightens at the urge to do something reckless—brush her cheek, or press my lips to hers again. But the moment passes. I turn to the door, feeling her stare burn into my back. Just as I place my hand on the latch, her voice halts me:
“Vaelith.”
I glance over my shoulder, throat tight. “Yes?”
Her eyes flick away, then back. “If… if last night happens again, I won’t regret it. But I won’t let it define me either. You can’t expect me to kneel.”
My chest constricts, a surge of twisted longing. “I wouldn’t want you to.” Then I push the door open, stepping into the corridor. The final flicker of candlelight spills onto me before I close the door, leaving her in that soft glow.
The hallway feels cold in contrast. Two guards stand at attention. I give them each a meaningful stare, ensuring they know not to harass her. They nod, loyalty overshadowing any curiosity they harbor. As I stride away, my mind whirls with the depth of my internal conflict. I despise the purna for what theycost me, yet I can’t deny the pull of Selene’s fierce nature—how it ignites me, tests me, demands I question Orthani’s rigid lines.
Heading back to my war chamber, I note the hush in my estate as the night deepens. Most of my men have retired. I enter the chamber alone, letting the door close behind me with a soft click. The table with scattered maps beckons, but I doubt I’ll find clarity in more battle plans. Instead, I slump into a high-backed chair, raking a hand across my scalp in agitation—careful to avoid using that banned phrase—and consider the swirl of guilt.
My fiancée died years ago for sheltering a purna, an event that forced me to bury any spark of compassion, forging me into Orthani’s unwavering commander. Yet now, I’m giving a purna a private suite, bedding her in a moment of reckless abandon. The hypocrisy stings. But maybe it’s more complicated than hypocrisy—maybe it’s the realization that not all purna are the same. Some might be cunning enemies, others might be… intangible forces that stir me to life again.
I let out a long breath, shutting my eyes. The lingering images of last night’s savage union floods me: her nails biting my flesh, her breath hot against my mouth, the way we both found a sliver of release in that violent dance. My throat tightens, a mix of shame and fierce excitement. If I let this continue, what happens when Orthani’s council discovers? Or if Selene decides to leverage my desire to escape? A part of me suspects she might, that I’m giving her a golden opportunity to betray us. Another part can’t find the will to care, so long as we keep tangling in these nights of raw collision.
