Fall of Ruin and Wrath (Awakening, #1)

“He used his fingers and I my hand.” The all-too-clear memory of that thickened my voice and my blood. “That was all.”

“Well, that is somewhat disappointing.”

A laugh bubbled out of me, drawing his sea-green gaze. “I’m sorry. It’s just that you seem genuinely disappointed.”

“I am.” A small smile appeared as he kneaded my skin. “I don’t like that you spend so many nights alone.”

Neither did I, but . . . “I enjoyed myself.”

“Good.” His attention once more returned to my chest. If he could spend the rest of his life fucking breasts, he’d be a happy man.

My gaze dropped to his groin, and I could see he was semi-aroused. I could reach for him. Touch him for at least a little bit before he’d stop me. He was obviously in some sort of playful mood this morning. I could guide him into me, urge him to take me right here on his desk. It wouldn’t be the first time, but . . .

Neither of us really wanted it from the other. Other than the breasts, I wasn’t his type. He preferred lighter hair and slimmer frames, even when it came to the men. And me? I wasn’t sure what my type was. There was nothing in any particular trait of a man or woman I fancied more than another.

Still, if I reached for him, he wouldn’t reject me. Not just because I was a warm body. I did know Claude’s intentions. He would give me what I wanted because he wished he could give me more.

But that seemed like too much effort, and for what? A few seconds of pleasure easily forgotten.

And gods, wasn’t that telling? Especially when seeking pleasure was as common as one who sought to quench a thirst?

“Did you learn of anything else?” Claude asked, catching my attention.

My thoughts raced. Claude likely expected that I had learned more about the Prince than why he was here. He knew exactly what I could ferret out of an individual. “He hasn’t created a Rae in a long time,” I said, the first thing that popped to my mind.

“Well, that’s unexpected,” he commented, drawing his thumb back over the tip of my breast.

I nodded. “And he’s also searching for something— or was.”

Claude’s touch stilled. “What?”

“He was searching for something he . . . he believed that another Hyhborn had information on,” I said slowly, relying fully on what the Prince had shared with me.

Light blue-green eyes met mine. “Do you know who he was looking for?”

I shook my head. “That I couldn’t read from him.”

His lashes lowered, and he was quiet for several moments. “The Prince of Vytrus rode out this morning at dawn,” Claude said, running his hands over my breasts once more, and then his hands went to the table, beside mine. “He told one of the guards he’d be back by supper. I figure that is when he plans to discuss things with me.”

I searched myself for a hint of disappointment over him ceasing to touch me and found nothing but apathy. I didn’t want that. I wanted to find more. “Do you wish to inspect anywhere else, like between my thighs, for signs of the Prince’s brutality?”

Claude snorted. “Maybe later. I’m expected to join the Bower brothers.”

The Bowers were a pair of aristo sons who were as often reckless as the Baron. I really hoped he planned on keeping his mind clear.

“I want you with me when he does speak with me.”

My stomach dipped. “Why?”

“Because I want to make sure he is telling me everything,” he said, fixing the lace on my bodice. “And that he has no ill intentions when it comes to his presence.”

Shit.

I would be as much help to him as a crystal ball. He stepped back, and I slipped from the desk. The gown pooled against the floor as panic threatened to spiral.

“I’ll have Hymel summon you when he returns, so stay close.” He bent, kissing my cheek. “I’ll see you later.”

I stood motionless as Claude strolled out of the study, and I remained there for several moments. “Fuck,” I moaned, letting my head fall back.

“No, thank you.”

My head jerked upward and twisted toward the sound of Hymel’s voice.

He stood in the open doorway, the ever-present smirk plastered across his features. “I’m sure my cousin already took care of that for you today.” He paused. “Then again, that would’ve been unimpressively quick.”

Rolling my eyes, I ignored him as I headed toward the door.

Hymel didn’t move. “What did he want to talk to you about in private?” he demanded. “Was it about Prince Rainer?”

I stopped then, but I didn’t respond.

“He just asked me in the hall to send a message to the Prince of Primvera requesting to meet but wouldn’t tell me why,” Hymel said.

Surprise flickered through me. Could it be about the shadow market? If so, was he just now getting around to doing that? Weeks later?

“I’m betting you know why he’s requested a meeting,” Hymel surmised.

I honestly didn’t, but what I found interesting was the fact that neither did Hymel. I doubted it was something that had simply slipped Claude’s mind. I said nothing as I brushed past him.

He turned quickly, grabbing my wrist. Grip tight, he yanked me back. I stumbled, catching myself as my furious gaze shot to his. I yanked on his hold—

Hymel twisted his wrist sharply. I yelped at the sharp, sudden pain radiating up my arm. His eyes lit up and the tilt of his smile was sickening. “I asked you a question.”

“I know,” I seethed, watching his eyes widen in response to me actually speaking to him. “And I’m ignoring you, so let me go.”

His lips peeled back. “You think you’re so special, don’t you? Yet you’re— ”

“Nothing more than a whore. I know. I heard you the first five hundred times you said that. At least I’m getting off.” I held his stare, knowing I was about to deliver a low, mean blow that was as cruel as he was. “Can’t say the same about you though.”

The back of Hymel’s other hand cut through the space between us, aiming straight for my face, but somehow, I was faster. I caught his arm, my fingers curling into the crispness of his tunic. “Do not ever think to strike me.”

Hymel’s jaw loosened, his face paling as he dropped my aching wrist. Our stares locked, and for a moment, I would’ve sworn I saw fear in his eyes. Real, primal fear. Then his expression smoothed out.

“Or what, Lis?”

A series of tingles ran along the back of my head as images flooded my mind— horrific images of Hymel taking his own sword, impaling himself on it. My grip tightened on his arm. A coldness ramped up inside me. An energy. A power. What I saw was no future set in stone. It was what I wished to make Hymel do—

I dropped his arm, taking a step back. My heart thumped unsteadily.

Hymel eyed me for several seconds. “It’s funny, you know? You. Your abilities. One touch and you can know a person’s name and their desires. Their future. Even how they die.” His lips curved into a smirk behind the neatly trimmed beard. “And yet, you don’t know shit.”

“Maybe,” I said softly. “But I do know how you die.”

He went rigid.

“Do you want to know?” I smiled at him. “It’s not pleasant.”

Inhaling sharply, Hymel took a step toward me, but stopped himself. Without another word, he pivoted and stalked out of the chamber.

“Okay then,” I murmured, glancing down at my wrist. The skin was already turning red. “What an asshole.”

But so was I.

I’d lied. I’d never touched Hymel or pushed hard enough to see his future. I had no idea how he died. And because karma was about as real as the idea of fate, he’d probably outlive us all.

I left the Baron’s study, and it wasn’t until I was halfway to my quarters, while I pictured myself repeatedly kicking Hymel between the legs, when something about Claude struck me. It brought me to a complete stop by the windows facing the stables.

Claude hadn’t asked what Prince Thorne had been searching for information on but who.



I paced the length of my quarters, thinking over what Claude had said. It was likely just a slip of the tongue, saying who when he meant what, but . . .

My intuition told me that wasn’t the case.