Page 3 of Empire of Wrath and Ruin
His expression darkened, a storm gathering in those pale eyes. "Your people?" He moved closer, the space between us shrinking until I could feel the heat radiating from his body. "Your peoplewho slaughter mine? Who burn our villages and steal our children?" Another step. "Your people who would kill you for bearing my mark?"
I swallowed hard, unable to deny his words. "There are good people among them. People who care for me."
"Men," he said, the word like venom on his tongue. "Men who touched what is mine."
My heart hammered against my ribs. "I'm not yours. I don't belong to anyone."
He laughed then, a sound without humour as he moved toward me with that fluid, predatory grace that seemed inherent to all Talfen. His hand came up to rest against the door beside my head, effectively caging me between his body and the wood. "You're not going back to them."
I felt a flash of anger cut through my fear. "You can't just keep me prisoner here."
His pale eyes narrowed. “You are mine, Little Flame. But it looks like you needed reminding of exactly what that means.
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The threat in his words sent a shiver down my spine, and I swallowed as his hand moved from the door to my throat, not squeezing, just resting there—a reminder of how easily he could overpower me if he chose. His thumb traced the line of my jaw, surprisingly gentle despite the danger radiating from him.
His face hovered inches from mine, his breath warm against my lips.
"Let me go," I demanded, struggling against his grip. My heart raced, but I couldn't tell if it was from fear or something else entirely—something darker and more primal that responded to his closeness.
"No," he said simply. "I will never let you go."
The shadows in the room seemed to deepen, to writhe with a life of their own. I watched, transfixed with horror and fascination, as tendrils of darkness peeled away from the corners of the room and slithered toward us like living things.
"What are you doing?" I whispered as the first cool touch of shadow wrapped around my ankle.
Taveth's eyes never left mine. "Showing you what you are to me."
The shadows climbed higher, coiling around my calves, my thighs, sliding beneath my clothing like liquid silk. I gasped at the sensation—neither warm nor cold, but somehow both, a presence that was undeniably alive and utterly alien.
"Stop," I said, but there was no conviction in my voice. The shadows continued their relentless climb, wrapping around my waist, sliding beneath my tunic to caress my skin.
"I feel it too," he said, his voice rough. "This pull between us. It's driving me mad."
His words sent a shiver down my spine, not entirely from fear. His intensity was both terrifying and exhilarating, making my pulse quicken and my breath catch in my throat. The mate bond between us hummed with an energy that seemed to fill the small space, making the air thick and charged.
I tried to turn my face away, but he caught my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. The pale eyes that had seemed so cold were now burning with an intensity that made my breath catch.
"Then let me go," I whispered.
Something dangerous flickered in his expression. "Never."
His shadows coiled around my wrists, cool and impossibly solid, pulling my arms above my head and pinning them against the stone wall. I gasped, struggling against their hold, but they only tightened in response. The shadows held me firmly against the wall as Taveth moved closer, his body nearly touching mine. I could feel the heat radiating from him, a stark contrast to the cool caress of the shadows binding my wrists.
"You wear their clothes," he growled, his voice deep and primal. "You smell of them."
His hand slid to his belt, and I caught the glint of metal as he withdrew a knife. My breath hitched in my throat, but before I could protest, he brought the blade to the collar of my tunic.
"These Imperial rags," he said, contempt dripping from every word. "They don't belong on you."
The knife sliced through the fabric with terrifying ease, the sharp edge cold against my skin but never breaking it. He worked methodically, the blade tearing through the seams of my clothing, each rip of fabric echoing in the small cave. I shivered as the cool air touched my exposed skin, my chest rising and falling rapidly with each shallow breath.
"Taveth," I whispered, not sure if I was pleading for him to stop or continue.
He made a sound deep in his throat, almost a growl, and continued his work. The knife made short work of my clothing, the remains falling in tatters around my feet. I stood exposed, vulnerable as the shadows continued to hold me in place. My clothes lay in ruins at my feet, a tattered reminder of my former life. The air in the cave felt suddenly colder against my naked skin, raising goosebumps across my body.
Taveth's gaze travelled over me, hungry and possessive. The candlelight cast half his face in shadow, making him look more predator than man. His breathing had grown heavier, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm that matched my own racing heart.
