Page 80 of Nocturn

I wound my arm back and tossed them at his chest with all my strength.

Lord Draven exploded into laughter, the deep sound causing that bloom in my belly to expand and send vines throughout my veins to warm me. He approached the bed as he jerkily undid the leather strap at his midsection that was attached to the sheath of his sword. He kept chortling as he removed the weapon and sheath to set them on the desk.

My gaze kept trailing over his chest as he exposed inch by delightful inch.

“Like what you see?” He raised an eyebrow.

“You are quite . . . well-built,” I mumbled. I widened my eyes, pressing my fingertips to my lips. What has gotten into me?

Drat it.

Apparently, the rice wine.

He snorted, removing his leather coat and laying it on the edge of the bed, then removed his tunic. My focus went directly to the oozing slice across his side, right below the final rib.

“Cassiel,” I breathed, moving forward, my hand hovering over it.

This should have already been knit together. The liquid, thick and black, reminded me of one of the vials I had seen on Al’s shelf, a lighter fluid consistency to what I had been injected with.

Was Al running experiments for him?

Even the scratches from last eve remained on his shoulder. Those should have been perfectly healed.

“Why are you not healed?”

He stayed silent.

Warlords were known to be violent, instinct-driven creatures, but besides that, their speed was unmatched, as was their strength and . . . they healed quickly.

My mind raced and I quickly made sense of it all.

“That is why you need information. Your gifts are failing you.”

Lord Draven stiffened, but in a sudden explosion of movement, he was suddenly in my face, teeth bared with the curl of his upper lip. A hand wrapped around my throat.

I choked on my spit.

“If you breathe a word of it, everything I have done to you until now will be child’s play.” His voice was as sharp as the blade on the desk. I bit down on my tongue to stop my flinch.

I cannot even breathe!

I clawed at his arm to push him away. His gaze sharpened.

My vision blurred.

Suddenly, he released me, and I slumped in half, dragging in a ragged breath. Meanwhile, he stormed to the other side of the chamber, beginning to pace.

“I will not speak of it,” I blurted raggedly without thought, and clamped my lips tightly together, bothered by my instinctive urge to protect him. He stepped back as if I’d landed a physical blow. “I will do my best to find anything that explains what is happening to you.”

He opened and closed his mouth, continuing to blink.

“What is it you want?” He narrowed his eyes, once again in front of me. He was so used to political dealings, he expected nothing better from mortals. “You will not have your freedom.”

A desperation entered his gaze, and his hand cupped the bottom of my elbow to drag me close. I had to bend my neck to keep my eyes on his.

“I only need answers. Who’s Volcan?” I had to pace myself with the rest of the questions racing through my thoughts.

He cocked his head, his eyebrows furrowing, lips pinched. He looked nowhere close to pleased as he released my arm and straightened, folding his arms in front of him.