At least he doesn’t bleed me dry each day, not like it won’t be in my favour. The power he drew from me actually helped me maintain control over my magic.
He smiles, then gestures for me to sit. I obey, and his hand closes around my wrist. I brace myself, expecting him to go for the throat.
“I figured you’d like that, didn’t you, dirty darling?”
“I will not offer up my throat to you!” I snap, speaking out of embarrassment, not truth.
“Of course, of course.” He smirks, aware of my lie, but before I can respond, he bites into my skin.
Rush of sharp pain. Then the draining. Relief. The overwhelming ease of the pressure of magic being taken away.
He takes plenty, but my well is still more than full. He stops drinking and licks the wound, amplifying the healing magic with his saliva.
“Now I don’t know who should thank whom,” he says, after lifting his head, his scarlet eyes feral.
Of course that’s what he says.
“You took what you wanted, now leave!”
“No, today I want cuddles.” He pulls me close so I can lie as a little spoon. I comply, of course, only because of the combination of blood loss and ghoul wine.
I hear a small chuckle in my mind, but when my head meets the pillow, I instantly doze off.
Chapter 11
The only decent teleporter in Santorili, Vort, is drained, and it will take him another full moon to recover, so we are to set off on foot.
I am fine with that. Especially when General Riven introduced me to his second-in-command, Bane, with whom I immediately clicked, so I am happy to stretch the journey to the Mystic Forest as much as possible.
We plan to renew the vows with its inhabitants before meeting the hags—the forest should be a much easier task in comparison.
I am currently hunting for the perfect armour, having already acquired a reduced-size satchel, a sleeping bag and travel clothes.
I finally have a valid reason to spend some coins. I even visited a mind healer, and he convinced me to purchase a necklace that is supposed to electrocute me whenever my mind drifts towards my… trauma.
“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Aidon says. He is unusually quiet today, though not quiet enough to stay that way for long.
We weave through the crowded market street together, brushing past vendors shouting prices and children darting between carts.
“Can’t you leave and return next time you are low on magic?” I mutter.
“I can,” he says, stepping around a fruit stall, “but I don’t want to.”
“Can’t you lie, at least?”
“I have no reason to trick you. You are already bound to me.”
“As if I could forget.”
He smiles, leaning closer. “But as a matter of fact, I have some business to attend to.” He places a kiss on my forehead, and my cheeks ignite.
Fuck him, for all I know, he is a spy for Chief Gerald, given his constant disappearance.
Without him around, my mind drifts back to the problem.
It would be stupid to march on the Capital without any cannon fodderand assume the elementals and Royal Army will simply drop to their knees.
My Grams would have commanded them to fight for her, or better yet, throw them into the Fool’s Festival for going against her in the first place, but I have too much at stake to risk disobedience.
