“…but nothing for you to fear from me,” I added when I saw her light brown eyes widen once more, the flecks of green in them almost dancing with apprehension.
She did not believe me.Not yet.
I reached out then, unable to stop myself, my fingers brushing along her jaw, featherlight and careful.And her reaction was immediate.Her breath caught, her pulse fluttering beneath my touch, and something deep and ancient in me answered with dangerous certainty.
“What do you want from me?”she whispered, and I almost groaned. By the Gods, what didn’t I want? It was certainly a shorter list by this point, for I came so close to admitting on a growl…
Everything.
Thankfully, I refrained from giving in to the impulse, knowing that it was too soon for that type of honesty. So, I simply told her,
“All in good time, little Inanna.”
My thumb traced her lip once, just enough to feel the warmth there, to commit the sensation to memory. Enough for me to imagine how it would feel against my own lips. How I wanted to see them glistening wet and swollen from my kiss. How I wanted to bruise them with my bite. How I wanted to…
Fuck them.
So, I stepped back before I gave in to every dark impulse.
“I’ll return soon,” I said, forcing authority back into my tone.
“Don’t go anywhere, Eliza. We are far from finished,” I informed her and willed myself to turn away before my restraint failed entirely.
The door sealed behind me with a decisive lock. And for the first time in centuries, I welcomed leaving my own space behind. Because remaining there with her, surrounded by power and privacy, would have pushed me over a line I was not yet willing to cross. Not when I knew she wasn’t yet ready for that.
Besides, there was something else that demanded my attention.
Someone to punish after my judgment.
As soon as I emerged, Torin fell into step beside me without being summoned, his instincts as sharp as ever. He had worked for me long enough to know when silence was required and when he could drop the lord shit. We moved away from the public floor and past the outer ring of observers before we stepped into a corridor. One where the weight of my authority eased just enough to allow something closer to candor.
I slowed, then stopped entirely to inform him,
“I’ve found my Siren.”
Torin’s steps faltered, just slightly, the smallest break in his composure betraying the impact of it. He was a beast, built for intimidation alone, his towering frame nothing but raw, brutal strength.
His unyielding features made him the ideal gatekeeper to my domain. Thick, jagged red tattoos carved their way across his face, running through both eyes and down his cheeks and neck in perfect mirrored symmetry. Painted skin broken only by the long white scar that split straight down the center of his face, when some fucker with a death wish had once tried to carve him in two and naturally failed.
The markings reacted before he could fully rein himself in, the red lines along his skin giving a faint, restless shiver, glowing just enough to betray agitation beneath his discipline. His light blue eyes, stark against the ink and the darkness of his tactical attire, lifted to mine, intense and searching. Torin recoveredquickly, as he always did, his posture snapping back into place, but the air between us had already shifted.
He looked at me then, truly looked, studying my expression for something he rarely saw reflected there.
“Are you sure?” he asked, not doubting, but understanding the gravity of the claim well enough to be cautious.
“I am,” I replied without hesitation.
“Well, shit me, Wye, I didn’t expect that.” Torin exhaled slowly, the tension he had been holding since the disturbance on the floor easing into something more complicated. Relief, perhaps. Or disbelief. Or the quiet acknowledgement that nothing about this night would remain contained. Or that nothing past it would ever be the same again.
“Then… gods help us,” he added with an amused mutter, no doubt wondering how the fuck I was going to handle this one. Death and punishment came naturally to me, but love…Gods help us indeed.
I almost smiled.
“She is called Eliza.”
“And does she come with a last name?” The question sounded simple enough, but as of yet, she had only granted me her first name.
“I believe it to be Shadowmere,” I continued, the name settling into me with a weight that felt unfamiliar yet undeniable.
