Page 13 of Of Nightmares & Fire
“I saw you at the bar. You’re quite the lonely thing, aren’t you?” A man, whom I’ve never seen before, now leers over me. I press my body against the wall, trying to create space between us withoutsuccess. He slowly closes the distance, and I turn my face away from him.
“My friend is waiting for me just inside my room.” I lie.Where is Mavros? Would he come if I screamed? It was him, after all, who warned me screams wouldn’t get me the help I wanted when it was him leering over me.
“Oh?” He questions, the scent of stale clothing and ale wafting to me as he leans in closer, “Is that so? Then perhaps we go tomyroom?” He grabs for my hips at the same moment I spin to run down the hall toward the room Mavros and I were sharing, but the man reaches out, grabbing onto the straps of the holster that Zinya insisted I wear.Damn holster!He pins my face to the wall with one hand on the back of my head, while the other trails down my body in an eager conquest, all the while my protests are being ignored. I’m too shocked to scream. My voice is lost to panic as he continues to tug and pull at my body and clothes. The pressure at which he pins me to the wall is painful, and a muffled cry comes from my lips. Then suddenly he’s yanked from me. My breath catches in my throat as I turn to see Kyros move through the hall like a wraith. He prowls over to where he has thrown the man to his ass.
“She said no. If you touch her again…” His low, gravelly voice trails off, but even without finishing the sentence, it threatens violence; the louring darkness clouds his face in a promise of pain. The man doesn’t even take a second look in my direction. He scrambles to his feet, keeping his eyes fixed on Kyros and slowly backing away.
“Understood,” he stammers, but before he continues, Kyros grabs him by the front of his tunic, balling the material in his fist, and pulls him close to his face. All the while, I am bent at the waist, trying to catch my breath, simultaneously trying to keep the contents of my stomach from spilling to the floor.
“If Ieverfind that you try to force yourself on her… or anyone again,” he breathes the words through clenched teeth, “I will let rats feed between your legs while I hold you down and make you watch yourself become a eunuch.” He shoves him away. The man nearly falls down the stairs as he struggles to find purchase on trembling legs. When Kyros turns back to face me, his eyes are like glittering onyx in the dark. Only reflecting glimmers of moonlight coming from cracks in the shuttered window.
“Are you hurt?” He reaches out for me, then makes a face at his hand before pulling it back stiffly. “You need to get yourself to bed. You have a way of running into trouble.” He says, standing back to his full height, and I scoff.
“Clearly.” I say, tugging at the boned vest I’ve borrowed. I sway on my feet, but before I fall flat on my face, Kyros’ hands catch me, and I steady myself with one hand on his chest. His large hand is like a heated weight on my lower back, and the stark difference between the other man and his touches has a shiver rolling down my spine. “Who’s going to save me from you?” The question wasn’t meant to be said out loud, but I can’t take it back now. His brows thread so tightly I fear what he is going to say in response, but then he surprises me by helping me find my footing. His hands linger on my arm, just above my elbow. He is so close I can feel hisbreath blowing the fine hairs away from my face. The scent of sweet honey and the bitter tang of fire and smoke engulf me and take my breath from my lungs.Gods divine, why does this man smell so good?
“If it were me in his place,no one, not even the divine, could save you. But you would not be protesting my touch. You would bebeggingfor it…” He growls, and when he takes a step back, letting go of me, I nearly whimper. Not only his words, but also the confusing heat that they created in my core.
He stalks down the hall toward the door that leads to the room Mavros and I have been given but stills as his hand hovers over the lever. A rumble builds in his throat as he turns to face me.
“It seems my brother is entertaining an audience tonight… if you don’t wish to join them, you can follow me.” He sighs and continues down the hall, not waiting for me to choose. As I near the door he was standing in front of, I hear all sorts of noises I wish I hadn’t, and I no longer question sharing a room with the man who just saved me from being defiled.
He opens a door a little further down the hall and waits for me. As I enter, I look around at the neat space and the cold hearth. The chill from the wet desert rain has fully encroached the dark space.
“I’ll leave you to get settled after I build a fire,” Kyros says, pointedly ignoring me where I stand behind him, and he starts doing just that. He doesn’t so much as glance my way as he works. His movements cause me to watch his hands. Long fingers grasp the wood, and he carefully places it into the heart of the hearth before he reaches to the mantle. I watch transfixed as his muscles flex and pull taut by the movements, and I recall the shirtlesssparring session between him and Mavros earlier. When he strikes the flint, casting sparks to flit over the kindling, it quickly catches fire, illuminating his face with its amber glow. I’m entranced by his every movement. I don’t realize I’ve moved closer until he stands to his full height. He’s very tall, easily a head taller than me, and I have to look up to meet his gaze.
“Thank you,” I say, and he nods as our bodies seem to gravitate toward one another.Or maybe it’s just me?His throat works on a swallow, and I watch the motion with rapt attention. Being this close to a man such as Kyros is like standing too close to a fire. My entire body wants to rear back from the heat, but my curious mind wants to reach out and touch him to see if I’d burn.
“It was nothing, just a fire,” he says, and I watch as the flames dance in the reflection of his black eyes. It’s mesmerizing. My eyes grow heavier the longer I stand here, and I can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or the proximity to the man in front of me, but my courage swells.
“Not the fire. You stepped in and saved me from that man’s advances. I’m not sure what would have happened if you hadn’t been there.” My hand comes between us and just as I am about to lay it on the center of his chest; his fingers wrap around my wrist. It’s not a painful grip, just tight enough to stop contact over his heart.
“I’m not a man who sets out to save innocent women. Don’t look for something like that in me. You won’t like what you find.” He says, and though his words are a growl, his eyes say somethingelse entirely. He takes a step backward and lets our hands fall between our bodies.
“I’m not just an innocent woman looking to be saved, Kyros. Sometimes people fight silent battles, but that doesn’t mean that they are any less of a warrior.” He stares at me for a long moment, with the door cracked open and one hand on the lever. Contemplating my words, a frown takes over his face before he tilts his chin down and speaks.
“Get some sleep, Shula.” Kyros finally says, dejected. I can’t do anything but stare with my lips parted as he walks from the room.
Chapter eleven
Kyros
Astheflimsywooddoor clicks shut behind me, my muscles grow even more taut with tension, as does the clench of my jaw. I may not be a man who sets out to save innocent women, but I am a man who prides himself on his control. Control that the woman in that room just nearly took from me without even knowing.
I take a deep, steadying breath, building up the control that I had felt slipping away like water through my fingers, water the color of her ocean blue eyes. The moment she would have touched me, I would have ruined her. Even now, I can't get the image of her face from my head. Closing my eyes, I pull another lung full of air and then blow it out evenly.I need to get out of this damn tavern.
I take my time heading back downstairs; I can't be in the bedchamber with—her. I’m frustrated and distracted when Zinya comes down the stairs and sits heavily into the seat in front of me and my half-drunk bottle of whiskey.
“Can’t sleep either?” She questions pouring a measure of the alcohol into the tumbler I opted not to use when I asked for the bottle.
“For very different reasons, I’m sure.” I say, taking in her pink cheeks and glowing skin. She and Mavros have had a thing for years. They share lovers, but neither will admit that they are ultimately made for each other. They compliment each other on tasks, in battle, and in any given situation. Sometimes it's subtle when the match is lit and the flame catches, but eventually the fire grows and it’s impossible to deny. Other times when the fire catches, it threatens to burn the life you know to the ground and take everything you think you know about the world with it…
“Where’s the girl?” She questions, and I blink up at her. It's been hours since I left her in the room that was meant to be mine. It has to be the early morning hours now, and while I need to sleep eventually, I can’t bring myself to go back in there with her.
“Hopefully sleeping.” I say with a grunt and then take a swig from the bottle. “She is trouble, Zinya. You need to keep Mavros away from her.”
“I don’tkeepMav from anything, and you know it. I wouldn’t worry too much; she doesn’t seem interested inhim.” She quirks her brow at me, wanting a reaction.
“I’m not worried about what she’s interested in. I worry about Mavros. This job is important; it's why we have such a large group—the best of the guild. Yet, he’s treating it like every other task. He can’t be distracted. Not on this one. Distraction in Eathian means death, Zinya. You know that.” I tell her, and she rolls her lips and smiles close-lipped into her tumbler, then takes a drink of whiskey with a shrug.
