Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 121924 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121924 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Again, he didn’t deny my assumption.
I couldn’t lie, it stung a little. I stared at him, trying to figure out what his deal was. If I hadn’t heard stories of him sharing a bed with others, I might have wondered if he simply liked keeping his sexual activities private. But it couldn’t be that. Nor could it be that he was idiotically ashamed about bedding someone who was mortal—he was emotionally committed to a mortal.
Whatever the case, I deserved more. Better.
There was no point in being angry with him for not being willing to give me ‘better,’ though. It wasn’t like he’d made me promises or hinted at having anything to offer me. Uncomplicated sex was all he ever wanted, no matter who his bed partner happened to be, unless it was Eva. I’d known that in advance. But … yeah, I was done.
“If that’s how you feel, that’s how you feel.” It wasn’t exactly his fault. “But I’m not interested in being someone’s dirty secret, Talon. Don’t touch me again unless you’re prepared to stop treating me like that’s all I’m worth.”
Suspecting that he would roll his eyes like I was being dramatic, I skirted around him and walked away so I wouldn’t have to see it. I grabbed a cloth from my knapsack, cleaned myself up, pulled on my tunic, and slipped back into bed—all without looking at him.
Facing the wall, I burrowed under the blanket as I listened to him pottering around. The room fell dark, and I closed my eyes. My stomach was not churning at the knowledge that he’d never again touch me. I was not at all hurt that he didn’t seem to view me as worth more than this. And I would for certain shake off this attraction somehow—I was going to make a concentrated effort to do so, starting from tomorrow.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Five days later, I smiled tiredly at the tavern’s main barmaid. “Two meads, please, Glory.” I barely got out the latter word before a yawn cracked my jaw.
The tavern was as lively as always with all the laughing, talking, singing, and gambling going on. I didn’t have the energy to be there. I would prefer to be in bed, but Khalida had talked me into coming here with her, since the rest of our group were busy with one thing or another.
Unhooking two tankards from the pegs above the bar, the Delphiae gave me a sympathetic look. “I heard that you had an ugly experience with green ants earlier.”
The memory made my brows lower. “Yep,” I grumbled. As if the trek through the marshlands hadn’t been bad enough, the candidates had afterwards been required to partake in some unnerving activities. The kind that made your pulse race, your stomach sink, and your bravado shrink to nothing.
Grimacing, the blonde puffed out a breath. “I remember having to lie in a tub with them for an hour when I went through Xalbia. Which tub did they put you in? The smaller one, or the larger one?”
“Neither,” I muttered. “It was a coffin.”
Her plush lips parted in what seemed to be a mixture of surprise and horror. “Fair play to you for not crying foul.”
I’d thought about it. Confined spaces didn’t bother me too much, but there was really nothing fun about being stuck in a coffin, let alone when it was filled with green ants. Ants that tried slipping up your nose, crawling into your ears, scurrying over your lips, and attempting to edge their way up … other orifices.
A little shudder worked its way down my back at the sensory memories. I inhaled deeply, dragging the scents of woodsmoke, fermented drinks, and melted wax into my lungs. “It was an experience that I hope to never repeat.”
“How long did you have to stay in the coffin?” she asked, placing the tankards on the bar.
“Two hours.” It had felt more like six.
Shaking her head, she said, “I swear, the conditions of Xalbia get meaner every time. Did you get bitten a lot?”
“No. Green ants are not a fan of my blood, for some reason.”
“Well at least there’s that.”
“At least,” I agreed.
A laugh came from the people at the corner table nearest the door. Talon’s table. I fought the urge to look his way—something I now did consistently.
I’d stuck to my plan to work on somehow killing this visceral attraction between us. I figured that the key to crushing it would lie in not feeding it, which meant only giving him my time and attention when necessary. It seemed the most logical solution.
As such, though I greeted him politely and I talked to him normally, I spoke to him less nowadays. I didn’t look at him unless it was warranted. I kept things professional—no jokey or teasing comments. And I was sure to keep a physical distance between us where possible.