Chapter 5
Lyall
Countless thoughts swirled through my mind as I flew back to the portal. Every single one of them focused on the woman lying unconscious in my arms. She was quite attractive, formidable,bold, and with a hint of recklessness.
The taste of her blood had turned me on with an intensity that left me reeling. And the glimpse it had given me into her past and personality fascinated me more than I wanted to admit. I had learned that bitter lesson after my experience with Amara.
They are completely different women.
A truer statement couldn’t have been made. Where Amara had been a sweet and pure soul, this Inquisitor had the fierceness of a wild beast and a darkness kept tightly locked deep within. A shroud of deeply ingrained morality and an almost visceral need to protect others further kept that darkness at bay. Obviously, that only poked my curiosity to better understand what exactly she was repressing.
Amara had been an open book. She radiated light that had verged on the divine. For the first time, she’d made me feelseen by a woman. And although her affection for me had been genuine, Amara had not—couldn’t have—loved me. That she had been honest and steadfast in that stance from the start hadn’t made it any easier.
My gaze roamed over the beautiful face of the stranger. She looked so peaceful and almost fragile in her slumber. Her long eyelashes, a shade darker than her brown hair, cast a light shadow on her cheeks. The high cheekbones gave her an air of nobility. Her dainty nose slightly recurved had something impertinent about it that also made it adorable.
And that mouth…
Her plump lips, with the most delightful pinkish hue, beckoned me. They were made to be kissed and devoured.
To my shame, I caught myself leaning forward to inhale her aroma. It was silly as I already knew the scent of a male she might claim as her partner wouldn’t linger on her. As I drank her blood in the crematorium, I’d specifically scanned for any recent memory of a husband or mate.
Did Mother send me there to meet her or for Ranael?
A part of me wondered if it was both. I clamped down on the joy that wanted to swell in my heart at the thought that my mother had finally united me with my soulmate. It was an insane conclusion to jump to. And yet, was it really? The Inquisitor ticked every box in the things that I found attractive in a woman. Then again, I always assumed I would end up with someone with a far more peaceful and submissive personality. She certainly didn’t strike me as the meek or quiet type. I didn’t doubt that she freely spoke her mind, didn’t suffer fools, and bowed to no one.
To my surprise, I found myself even more turned on at the prospect of her standing her ground against me and even challenging me.
Stop getting ahead of yourself, you fool!
I was indeed getting way too far ahead of myself. The number one thing I needed to make sense of was what the fuck I’d just witnessed. Eating the Onis hearts hadn’t revealed anything about Ranael. The two brainwashed Inquisitors also knew nothing. So what in the world was going on?
I peered back at the woman still sleeping peacefully. She would remain unconscious until I released her from the forced slumber I’d cast her into. Another wave of irrational anger stirred within me at the thought of how she had foolishly harmed herself by casting those spells even as the poison was coursing through her veins. A part of me wanted to fawn over her in admiration for the selflessness of her actions. But another really itched to put her across my lap and give her a proper spanking for such reckless behavior.
Above all, annoyance dominated my thoughts. Blasted Weaver! Why didn’t she just tell me if the Inquisitor was mine or if I was just to help her on a mission? Before I even set foot in the graveyard, I had known my mother wanted me to go there for something completely different than just picking some lame flowers for her. She knew I would meet this beauty and that I’d likely get hooked once I’d sampled the wonders of her personality through a sip of her blood. What was I supposed to do about the woman now?
Stop overthinking everything, you dimwit! Just live and follow the path laid before you.
Overthinking was indeed the bane of my existence. But following the path laid before me and indulging in my desires nearly led to my demise, according to both my brother Pharos and my mother.
Because you always choose the dark path whenever you encounter a fork in the road.
And that sadly used to be true. Since meeting Amara, I’d averted my eyes away from the easier—and often far moreentertaining—questionable options life offered me. Surely, there was nothing wrong with pursuing a woman I was attracted to? If I like her, I should be able to woo her like any other person who encounters somebody who pleases them.
But I don’t like clerics…
And frankly, clerics and every other member of the clergy had little affection for the dwellers of the netherworld.
Still, I’ll gladly fuck this Inquisitor, if she’s willing.
The wave of shame that instantly swelled within me even as that thought crossed my mind took me aback. I truly would enjoy doing a few rounds with this woman. She was stunning and held an undeniable fire that I wanted to see unleashed on me. So why did that thought bother me?
It’s not the thought, but the wording.
I snorted in self-derision. Fucking was fucking. Why was I suddenly feeling all prim and proper about wording my naughty intentions towards the beautiful stranger?
I dismissed the question from my mind as I landed on the large balcony of my domain built directly inside the mountains of Nephilim Valley. Like many demigods—including my brother Pharos—I lived in a stunning mansion overlooking the valley far below where many of the original hybrid offspring of angels and humans used to live.
With the woman still held tightly in my arms, I entered through the large French doors and headed straight for my main guest room. As I stepped inside the elegant space, I dropped the illusion that had kept her asleep. The inquisitor startled awake. Blinking, she glanced around the room with an air of complete confusion. Although curiosity as to where she was played a part in that confusion, I suspected that the poison coursing through her increased it.
