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“I don’t heat the water because it’s a comfort. And I don’t need comfort right now. I need to remember.”
“Remember what?” I whispered.
“My duty,” he murmured, lowering his chin before jutting it forward, gesturing toward the front room of my cottage, to the door. “To protect.”
My brow furrowed. “From…from the Severs?”
“He wasn’t a Sever,” Lorik snapped. While his tone wasn’t harsh, I still felt the bite of his words. “He was a Shade. A murderer. A thief. An oath breaker. And he wanted to die. He knew I would end him. I gave him mercy when I should have let him rot into this forest.”
“What?” I whispered. I’d always known that there was more to Lorik than I could see…but this? “A Shade?”
“A Shade is what the AllavarithinkSevers are,” he said, rolling his good shoulder, bringing a hand up to pinch between his brows. Then he inspected underneath his short claws, flicked out a piece of dried blood, and then took up the cloth again, scrubbing around his fingers. “But Severs have their own laws.Shades break them. Some were cast out from the Below, to be hunted or to be alone.”
“How…how do you know all this?” I asked, my heart thrumming in my throat.
Lorik met my eyes. Bright, swirling blue. For a long while, he said nothing. Then…
“In Olimara, there’s a collection of three books in the library,” he said, his gaze sliding away, scrubbing at his claws again.
“Olimara?” I asked. “The western village on the other side of the Black Veil?”
He inclined his head once. “Books rumored to have been stolen from the Below. By a Sever. Brought up to the Above world and given in exchange for the right to live in the village, to live out the rest of his days there.”
“And is that true?” I asked, utterly still. I’d never been to Olimara. Was that where Lorik lived?
“Who knows,” Lorik said, his tone gruff. “Everyone lies.”
“Even you?” I asked before I thought better of it.
“Especiallyme,” he said, his sharp smile returning.
The flash of his fangs made me jolt, made me remember that it was nightfall and he likely needed to feed, especially after expending that energy on the Sever. Or…the Shade.
“You’ve killed Shades before,” I commented.
“Only ones that get too close to the villages,” he told me. “Or the ones who want to die.”
“You give them mercy even though you don’t think you should?” I asked, my gaze sliding down the line of his slick chest before I could stop myself. “Why?”
“It’s only more pain and suffering,” he replied. “Better to end it. Pain has power. It has energy, like magic. Why allow it to spread? Why not twist off its head right where it stands?”
There was something rising in me at the brutal edge of his words. Something I didn’t understand.
Lorik cocked his head. Water trickled when he raised an arm, and I felt his hand clasp my chin, his thumb stroking the bottom of my lip.
“Do you like that, my bloodthirsty little witch?”
“I’m not bloodthirsty,” I whispered, unable to look away.
“You like it when I’m cruel though. Or merciful—however you wish to look at it,” he replied. His eyes were glowing again. They were all I could see.
“I like it when you don’t hesitate,” I corrected, the words falling out of me in a rush. My lip was wet from his thumb, and he stroked over the flesh. Unconsciously, I darted my tongue out to catch the water, and he made a sound in the back of his throat when it met the roughened pad of his thumb.
“Explain,” he ordered, his gaze on my lips, like he wished I would lick him again.
“When you…when you don’t overthinkanything. You act. Some might call it unpredictable, but I don’t think it’s that at all,” I confessed softly, my throat tight with want and desire and something that felt strangely like panic. “I think you know yourself better than most people know themselves. Your morality, your values, your lies, and your truths. I think you see the world ten steps ahead of everyone else.”
“Then why didn’t I ask you to Grimstone’s and steal your kiss in a back booth if you believe I don’t hesitate when it comes to what I want?” he questioned.
