Page 229 of Vasmora

The very thought sent a violent rage through him, but he tamped it down, laying her hand across her stomach. “Rest first. Then we’ll talk.”

“I don’t want to talk.” She leaned toward him, skimming her lips across his. “Tell me you’re not thinking of shoving that huge co–”

“Enough.” Gods be damned, all she had to do was brush her hand across his groin to know the truth, but Zevander sensed something strange about her and wouldn’t dare take her in that state. “When was the last time you had something to eat?” he asked, changing the subject.

Her eyes, riveted on his lips, flicked upward as she lay back onto the pillows. “I’ve no idea. What does it matter? I’m not hungry for food.”

He cupped her face, brushing his thumb over her bottom lip, and she sucked it into her mouth, drawing her lips up and down the length of it.

His body damned near shuddered, but he yanked back his hand and straightened. “I’ll bring a pitcher of water.”

“Have one of the servants do that.”

He searched her eyes for a glint of humor, an indication that she wasn’t serious, and shook his head. “You’ve not said one word that sounds like the Maevyth I know.”

“The Maevyth you know is weak. I want to be stronger. Bolder.” She gripped his thigh, digging her nails into his muscle through the leathers. “Mmmm. I want these powerful thighs squeezing and thrusting into me.”

A wily smile lit her eyes, before she rolled onto her stomach, lifting the hem of her dress to expose her bare ass beneath. Legs spread, she ground her hips against the mattress, taunting him. “If you won’t pleasure me, I’ll pleasure myself.” Reaching between her thighs, she stroked a finger up and down her flesh, drawing tiny circles around her entrance.

His cock nearly climbed out of his trousers on its own. Fucking hell, he had to look away.

In shifting his gaze, though, he caught sight of something through the window. A shadowy figure standing at the gate.

Ignoring Maevyth, he strode closer to the window and peered through the darkness outside. Too dark to make out any details from where he stood.

“Come, lover. Take me. I’m ready for you.” Maevyth’s words arrived breathy, the sultry nature of her voice almost distracting enough to pull his attention from what lurked outside.

A knock on the door managed to break his staring, and he turned to see Maevyth collapse to the bed, a look of disappointment souring her expression. He strode across the room and swung open the door to the butler, Vendryck, who stood with his chin tipped up.

“Pardon the interruption, Master. There’s a Dravien Nockvayne at the gate requesting you.”

Zevander gnashed his teeth. Regardless of what Maevyth had told him about the Elvyniran, it didn’t change the fact that he’d very likely played a hand in her capture back at the archway.

“Would you like me to send him away?” Vendryck asked

“No,” Zevander gritted out. “Let him pass through the gate. If the fyredrakes don’t eat him, I’ll take care of him myself.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

MAEVYTH

“Ifollowed her into the forest,” I said. From across the field of asphodels, I stared at Aleysia who stood naked before the bone archway, her bruised arms crossed over her body in a futile attempt to cover herself. “That’s when we came upon the Umbravale.”

“Whore!” someone cried out from the gathered crowd, and I clenched my teeth. The urge to run to her, to punish them and save her, pulled at my muscles, but instead of acting on it, I paused.

“I don’t envy you,” my twin said beside me. “Going against your instincts is never easy.”

“If I do this, I return. And you stay here.”

“Yes.”

“Why do you long to stay here?”

She lowered her gaze. “In my realm, I lost him. We were forbidden lovers. They killed him and burned me as a witch.” A shine of tears flickered in her eyes. “Here, I can love him in peace. Even if it’s just a dream.”

I glanced around, every part of my surroundings as vivid as if I were standing in Mortasia right then. Even the bitter cold gnawed at me, just like winter in the mortal lands, a merciless bite that lingered on the bones. Aethyria’s cold was never quite as piercing.

“Stop!” Aleysia’s scream snapped my attention back to the archway, and before I could stop myself, my feet carried me toward her.