Florian broke his stare, casting his gaze back on the crystalline waterfall.
He knew Knox’s deadliest secret, as did every member of the Blades of Fate. It had been a necessity as they lived in such close proximity, though none of them would betray his trust to anyone outside their company. Could he be right about Yvette? It was easy to admit that Florian was intrigued by her, infatuated even. But had his curiosity blinded him? Florian shook away the idea. He had always been an excellent judge of character, and he would bet a fool’s sum that Yvette’s intent was pure. Besides, he assured himself, not all secrets were as dark and deadly as Knox’s.
Knox tied off the wriggling sack only after catching two more fish. Above them, the sky was now fully cloaked in night. If not for the torch, Florian would have been all but blind, though he knew it was there only for his benefit. Knox had no problem seeing through the darkness.
To Florian’s surprise, he left the sack by the shore, closing the distance between them. His movements were smooth but purposeful, a hunter’s grace. His silver eyes were hooded and locked on his own. Florian could sense the shift in his gaze. His blood heated as it washed over him.
“They will be expecting us to return soon,” Florian said when they were but inches apart.
Knox’s hand splayed out over Florian’s chest, and he sucked in a breath beneath his touch. So rarely did Knox instigate things between them, and with such assertion. As he pushed him back against the rough bark of a thick old tree, Florian was intrigued by the change, no, intoxicated by it.
His grip slid up to Florian’s throat, holding him in place as he drew nearer. Steaming breaths filled the air between them as his arousal thickened by the moment. Knox was little more than a silhouette backlit by the torch forgotten on the ground behind them. The effect, a fiery halo, made him seem like something out of a dream, a savage fantasy.
“Not yet,” Knox said, voice husky and low.
His mouth came to him with every measure of fierceness Florian had come to expect. It was a battle of teeth and tongues, the stubble on their cheeks scraping each other raw. His hand reached up to bury into Knox’s hair, gripping tight. All the while, Florian could not forget Knox’s hand around his throat, the pressure of his body pinning him against the tree, or his hard length pressed against his own. Florian rocked his hips, desperate for sensation, eliciting a growl from deep within Knox’s chest. The pleasure coupled with the renewed vigor in his grip on his neck was dizzying.
Suddenly, Knox’s attention turned to something behind them, leaving Florian panting in his wake.
“What is it?” he asked breathlessly as Knox slowly withdrew from him.
Knox answered only by drawing his swords and creeping back toward the stream, his steps silent against the uneven ground in a way that Florian had never mastered.
He studied the shadows, the sense of danger clearing his mind quickly as he tried to see whatever it was that Knox had already detected.
Knox was nearly upon it when Florian finally made it out. Their sack of fish was several feet off the ground and rising slowly in the grip of what Florian had once believed to be vines. They still appeared to be nothing but overgrowth, though it was clearly attempting to steal their dinner. He’d also been sure it had formerly occupied a tree several yards away. Knox struck out, his twin blades moving as one, slicing the offending vine and severing it.
What followed was madness.
Countless vines erupted from the shadowy canopy, writhing blindly as they sought out their attacker. Knox effortlessly cut through any that came too close until he was able to strike out at the central mass, what Florian had thought was simply part of the tree itself. It fell to the ground, a mess of flailing tendrils around a misshapen body oozing with thick yellow ichor. It was a moment longer before Knox landed another lethal blow and the monstrosity fell limp at last. Only then could Florian make out its gaping, toothy mouth splayed open and unmoving.
“We should return,” Knox said, picking up the sack and slinging it over his shoulder. “Graspers hunt at night. There will be more of them.”
Florian offered no argument, the encounter having drained him of any desire he’d once felt to linger here. They couldn’t get back to Stormhaven fast enough, back to his feather bed and predictable dangers, away from carnivorous vines and whatever other horrors the forest might be sheltering.
Florian could smell dinner roasting as they approached the firelight of the camp. Gareth was stirring the stew, talking with Rhea about logistics and similarly bland topics, no doubt. Lilith and Yvette were not among them.
“Where’s Lilith?” Knox asked at once.
“She found some berry bushes north of camp. She took Yvette to pick some,” Rhea said dismissively.
“We were ambushed by a grasper down by the stream,” Knox explained, not even bothering to stop as he made his way north.
Rhea stood at once. “We’ll bring them back.”
“I’ll come with you,” Florian offered, following them with his torch in hand.
Gareth grunted as they left him to man the camp alone.
Florian held no doubts that Lilith could handle herself against one of those things, but Yvette had no weapons and had given him no reason to think she knew how to defend herself. As they walked farther from the camp, Florian’s agitation only grew that they would allow her to wander out into the dark.
It was Lilith they encountered first, easily drawn by the light of her torch. She had indeed found a wealth of plump purple berries that Florian could not name. From the look of things, she had gathered a bounty of them into a large pouch. From the stain on her lips, she’d sampled more than a few already.
Lilith abandoned her foraging once she caught sight of them. “What’s wrong?” Because for three of them to come look for her, clearly something was amiss.
“Graspers,” Knox replied, scanning the canopy above.
“I thought you would return before darkness fell,” Rhea said, her tone almost scolding.
