Fall of Ruin and Wrath (Awakening, #1)

Lord Thorne went incredibly still behind me. I didn’t even feel his chest rise against my back. “I was expecting no one.”

My eyes slammed shut as anger boiled. Fucking Claude. Was he that high or drunk that he hadn’t thought to warn me that he was sending me to a Hyhborn lord and not a chancellor? Or to even prepare him for my arrival? If I didn’t end up dead tonight, I very well might kill Claude for this.

The hand above my chest moved— the same hand I’d seen incinerate a Hyhborn— and slid to the base of my throat. “And?”

I blinked, toes curling in the empty air. “And . . . what?”

His thumb and forefinger began to move along the sides of my throat in soft, almost . . . gentle sweeps. “And there is one more question, na’laa.”

“Don’t call me that,” I snapped.

“But it’s still so fitting and I enjoy how annoyed you get when I call you it,” he murmured, and my mouth dropped open. “What’s your answer to my second question?”

One more question? What was he— Do you have a death wish? My lips peeled back as that anger flamed deep in me. “No, I don’t have a death wish.” What came out of my mouth next weren’t my wisest words. “But perhaps you do.”

“Me?” Those fingers still moved, creating a warm friction that was . . . that was oddly and distressingly soothing. “I’m curious as to how I have a death wish.”

“I’m a favorite of the Baron’s,” I said. “He would be most displeased if you were to break me.”

Lord Thorne was silent for what felt like a small eternity, and then he laughed. He actually laughed, and it was a deep, husky sound that reverberated through me much like that animalistic sound he’d made. “Well.” He drew the word out, those fingers stilling at my throat. “I wouldn’t want to displease the honorable baron.”

In any other situation, one where I wasn’t being held what had to be at least a foot off the ground, I would’ve appreciated the mockery dripping from his tone.

“I’m interested though. What would the Baron do?” The fingers slipped from my throat to just below the shallow indent between my collarbones. The feel of his touch there and the palm that rested just above my still wildly beating heart was a jolt to my already scattered senses. “If I did break a . . . favorite of his?”

My mouth opened but nothing came out. What could the Baron do if he decided to harm me? Even as a caelestia, there was absolutely nothing, which was why Claude sending me to the Hyhborn lord like this was so unbelievable.

“He would . . .” I sighed. “He would pout.”

That deep laugh came again, rumbling along my back and rear, causing my toes to curl even further. He was holding me entirely too close. “I wouldn’t want that to happen.”

Then Lord Thorne released me, but he did so slowly. Painstakingly slowly. I slid down the entire length of him, and it was a whole lot of length. I was uncomfortably aware of how the robe had snagged, catching between our bodies, and . . . and the feel of him. There was simply a lot of him. By the time my feet hit the floor, my legs were exposed all the way to the thighs. Luckily, the chamber was still dark, but not as fathomless as before.

“We keep meeting under the strangest circumstances,” he noted. “I’m beginning to think fate is afoot.”

“Fate?” I laughed. “You believe in fate?”

“You don’t?”

How could I when I knew that the future wasn’t always set in stone— that every decision, no matter how small or unimportant, could have a domino effect? “No.”

“Interesting.” His arm between my breasts vanished, but the one at my waist still held me against the front of his body.

Seconds ticked by, and I became aware of that hand along the curve of my waist moving in slow, tight circles that tugged on the sash. “Are you . . . are you going to let me go?”

“I don’t know,” he said after a moment.

I stared at the dark wall. “You don’t?”

“I like the feel of you against me.”

Okay, that . . . that was not what I was expecting. “I’m not sure how I’m supposed to be of service to you if you continue to hold me.”

His chin grazed the top of my head. “This is servicing me.”

“I’m not sure how that’s possible.”

“If you’re one of the Baron’s favorites and he sent you to service me,” he said, “then you know exactly how you are servicing me at the moment.”

I bit down on my lip, at once recognizing that I was in trouble, big trouble, and I didn’t think the Long Night was going to help get me out of it. It worked on a caelestia, but I had no idea if it worked on a Hyhborn. Naomi had never used it on one. She’d never wanted to. Either way, attempting to drug Lord Thorne was far too much of a risk. If it didn’t work on him and he somehow realized what I’d attempted to do, I wouldn’t have to worry about ending up on the streets. I’d be dead.

Hell, I didn’t even know if my abilities worked on Hyhborn. I hadn’t even tried to read him last night and I had picked up nothing from the first night, but then again, I had been distracted. I managed to quiet my thoughts and empty my mind. I reached down, finding his hand in the darkness. My mind was an open, blank field.

I saw . . . I saw nothing but white.

And I heard nothing but static.

But I felt relief— a burst of my own relief, because I was really beginning to think that I could still touch him without being bombarded with anything. I spread my fingers along the top of his hand, following the elegant stretches of bone and tendon. This was . . . this was bad and yet good— but good in a very short-term manner.

Knots of unease formed in my stomach. Perhaps I had to try harder. Or maybe it was because I wasn’t looking upon him. The tips of my fingers slipped over his knuckles. His hand had gone still beneath mine. His skin . . . it was so hard. I’d known that it wouldn’t feel like a mortal’s. A Hyhborn’s flesh was different. It was why most weapons couldn’t penetrate their skin, but I hadn’t expected it to feel this hard and smooth. Was all of him like this? Like all of him—

“Did I hurt you?” Lord Thorne asked.

“What?” I withdrew my hand from his.

“Did I hurt you just now? I was rough with you.”

He’d asked that question after grabbing me in the barn, but it still caught me off guard. “You only startled me.” I told the truth. “If you knew it was me, why did you grab me? Or do you always grab women who enter your chambers?”

He snorted. “At one time, I welcomed soft and shapely women entering my chambers, expected or not, but that was before more than one had come into possession of a lunea blade and entered my chambers with the intentions of drawing my blood and enriching themselves.”

I supposed after what he recently experienced, I too would react first and ask questions later. “At this point, you have to know that I have no interest in your blood, body parts, or— ”

“My come?” Lord Thorne tacked on. “I think that has changed since we first spoke of it.”

I briefly closed my eyes. “Are you ready to release me so that I can better service you?” I asked. “And perhaps turn on a light?”

His chin grazed the top of my head once more. “I believe I’m ready to be serviced.”

I didn’t know what I should be more concerned about in that moment. That his arm remained around my waist or that he made “serviced” sound like the most decadent, wicked word ever to be spoken.

His lips suddenly brushed against my temple, causing an unexpected hitch in my breath. “But just to be clear, na’laa, I trust your baron less than I do the ones who created the nix. No matter what aid you have given me, if you try anything, I won’t hesitate to retaliate.” His arm tightened around me. “Do you understand me?”





CHAPTER 14


My skin had gone cold as my thoughts flashed to the small pouch in my pocket. This was the kind of Hyhborn lord I expected. Icy. Deadly. Not teasing and laughing, claiming to be a protector. It was a good reminder of exactly what I was dealing with. “I understand.”