His cock still flopped around outside of his trousers, softening by the second.
“Get out.” My hands curled into fists at my side. I would have no problem swinging one at his face. He stared me down, chest heaving, contemplating his options.
Options? I was not a fucking option. I’d already said no. If he came at me again, I would punch that pretty face he was so proud of. I would claw out his eyes. I would make him pay for thinking that I belonged to him, that he was entitled to any part of me. Even my name.
“Get out!” I screamed, rage billowing out of me.
He shoved his cock back into his trousers and took off down the alley, not quite running. But not strolling easily, either.
My breath moved in and out of my chest in time with the ferocious beat of my heart. I took a few steps back until I could lean against the wall on my side of the alley. I let my head fall back to rest against it.
I’d have to choose my distraction better next time.
Why wait until next time?
It was past midnight, but the city was still wide awake. No one at home would miss me. Rylynn would have to come out of her room to notice I’d left at all. My father had not really looked at me since my mother’s death.
But my feet didn’t carry me to a tavern or a dance hall. They took me home, because no matter how foolish it was, I still had hope that someone might care.
CHAPTER 20
A warm handslid up the inside of my thigh, increasing the pressure of the touch with every upward inch. My hips lifted of their own volition, desperate for the contact, urging it higher. It had been so, so long. I needed that pressure at my center, where the ache built with every heartbeat?—
My heart doesn’t beat.
I startled awake to the crack of ice.
One crack was an animal. A crow landing. A wayward squirrel.
Two cracks were an attack.
And even the squirrels were dead in Velora.
I opened my eyes as the two figures crashed through the spiked stalagmites I’d created around me. The ice barely slowed them down. But that hadn’t been the reason for it. It had been a warning system, and that had worked. Somewhere in the distance, a crow cawed.
I braced my feet in the snow and ground my back into the tree roots, pushing myself up to stand. Two shapes came into focus as my eyes blinked, the Dark God’s gifts sharpening the details. But even before I could make out their faces, I knew my attackers.
Rilk dodged to the side as Nash swung his massive sword wildly, searching for me in the dark. But Rilk couldn’t see either. He howled with pain when Nash clipped his arm.
“Shut up,” Nash hissed—as if every one of the other supplicants could not hear them.
But I kept my mouth shut. They couldn’t see me. I was not going to give them a hint by opening my mouth, no matter how tempting it was to mock their incompetence.
Rilk got his screams down to whimpers. Nash did not bother to stop and check on his accomplice. He edged closer, swinging his sword in front of him with every step.
“We know you’re here somewhere,” he called into the darkness. “We mean no harm. We want to invite you to join our alliance.”
Alliance. I choked on an involuntary laugh.
No wonder none of the humans had ever successfully made it through all seven gates if this was the sort of nonsense they engaged in. We did not need to take one another out; it was a waste of energy. As Garrick had pointed out the night before, the gods would do plenty of damage on their own.
But people like Nash… I’d met plenty of men like him over the centuries. He could not handle the idea that there were people stronger than him, worthier than him. He needed to cut down his opponents before the gods could confirm that fear.
The scent of blood began to flood the clearing. I couldn’t quite make out the blood from their dark clothes, but Rilk’s wound was substantial. I could use that. Too bad he wasn’t the primary danger.
Every instinct screamed at me to move. Another yard, and the end of that pointy sword would reach me. But a layer of ice had formed over the top of the old snow. Any attempt to move would only bring them closer faster. I had to trust in my?—
“Argh!” Nash’s rage ripped through the clearing, every pretense of quiet and comradery gone. “You bitch,” he swore, writhing in place to try and break his legs free.
