Holding up his hand, he shows the identical cut across his palm and the gold blood leaking down his wrist. “Do you believe me now?”
Chapter Four
How can I not?
The panic thrums hard like the wings I both don’t see and see that sit on his back. “Like I have a choice.”
“There are always choices.”
“No!” I spit the word at him. “There aren’t. I can’t even kill you.”
I take off my cloak and hand it to him. “At least cover yourself.” His manhood’s distracting, and I don’t need any more distractions.
He takes the cloak, laughing softly because I’m sure he can see my thoughts better than I can see his.
The Cursed One ties it on at his hips. “Better?”
“Barely,” I say. I try to focus on anything other than his handsome face or finely sculpted torso, but it’s near impossible.
“So, does the little human have a name?” he asks, which takes me by surprise.
My brow rises. “Like I would tell you.”
“I just figured I should know the name of the person I’m to be bound to for the rest of eternity.” He half-shrugs. “Unless you prefer to be called ‘little human.’”
This is absolutely absurd.
“Lyra,” I say. “My name is Lyra.”
“Rowan,” he replies with a bow. His wings fold in against his back.
“Your name is Rowan?” I ask, frowning as I look at him.
“Is that a problem?”
“No,” I blurt. “It just sounds…”So human.I readjust. “It’s a strong name.”
“I could say the same about yours, Lyra.”
My name on his lips echoes in the ruins, wrapping about me. It streaks terror and desire through me, and I stumble back. He winces as my foot catches on some rubble and pain shoots through me. But luckily, I manage to stay upright.
“This is no life.” I wave the dagger at him.
“It can be. We break my curse and then?—”
“You kill again? I won’t allow that.” I shake my head. “We break thisbondand then I kill you. As fate really intended.”
“I’m not going to kill you.” He turns, not bothering to watch the dagger. He moves to the edge of the ruins, breathing in. I can smell for a moment what he can. The moist, rich earth, greenery, and a sweetness that pulls at my loins. His. “And there’s no way to break the bond. It’s?—”
“Fate, yes I heard you.” I lower my dagger. “Maybe you’ll just steal my soul and suck my bones dry instead.”
“Now that’s just hearsay. I don’t suck bones dry. I don’t eat them.”
“Don’t you?” I counter because the burn of need is in my veins, and it’s a tangle of his needs and mine. For a moment, dizziness hits. I don’t know where he begins and I end. “So you don’t?—”
“Kill women?” There’s heaviness now, blanketing down, and I’m not sure I could move if I wanted. “Not how you think.”
“Dead is dead,” I say. “Kill is kill.”