Nectar of the Wicked (Deadly Divine, #1) (89)

A male with shorn white hair arrived within the hour.

He said nothing as we walked down the arched sandstone hall toward windows in the same shape. They lined the expansive length of the hall we entered, giving view to rows of gardens and fruit trees beneath.

Beyond them, woods backed and curled around a glimmering lake to meet with small stone buildings. It was odd to see water that wasn’t frozen, and even more startling to glimpse all of the fresh vegetation, green and ripe and swelling with life.

It shouldn’t have come as such a shock, for I’d already known the seasons of Baneberry rotated between autumn and spring. Yet the lack of ice upon the mild breeze crawling through the arched windows caused something within me to flinch.

Something that recoiled at the mere thought of never feeling the cool touch of Hellebore again.

Of course, that was ridiculous when the source of such weather was a king who’d pulled me from my old skin with such expertise, I’d have never known he was nothing but a hunter savoring the chase of his next kill.

My steps slowed at the sight of the rumored sandstone wall.

It encircled Baneberry Palace, stretching beyond into the tree line feathering the large lake. Guards in brown and green uniforms walked along the wall and stood within three towers. I assumed at least three more stood upon the other side of the palace. Silver armor glinted from chests, heads, and shoulders.

The male I trailed stopped at a darkened doorway to the springs I could hear beneath the steps behind him, and bowed.

“What is your name?” I asked as he began to walk away.

He paused and made a face, then motioned with his hands. Not understanding what he meant, I shook my head.

His mouth pinched, and he looked over his slim shoulder. Looking back at me, he opened his mouth.

To show me he had no tongue.

He closed it and gave me a grim smile, then walked back down the hall to the one containing the room I’d woken in.

I took the winding stone steps down to the gurgling springs, light flaring from sconces on the damp walls, and thought of Delen. Thought of why I’d now met two males from Baneberry who were without the means to talk.

There were two springs to choose from. One was long, the length of a small dam, and the other as small as a garden pond. Heat rose in tempting curls from the latter. Needing something not so sweltering upon my skin, I decided against it.

I stripped out of my ruined clothing and carefully climbed the mossy steps into the wide-open warmth. Rocks lined each end of the large spring and rimmed the smaller one. Moisture dripped down the stone of the underground chamber in fascinating rivulets.

Home.

I dunked my head underwater with a smile.

As I emerged, I pushed hair from my face and ran my hands down my neck. My fingers faltered over raised and tender skin. Indeed, someone had healed me, but Fellan’s attempt to slit my throat might leave a scar.

And if he’d been successful, the daring trio would have needed to remove my head or stab me in the heart for certainty.

I shivered, leaning against the stone as I attempted to calm an onslaught of racing thoughts and breaths I couldn’t seem to control.

“You’ve been a busy little changeling.”

Water crashed as I instantly covered my breasts. Though it was dark and murky enough that he’d hopefully only see the outline of my body at most.

“Relax, I’m not interested in Florian’s toys.” Avrin straightened from the bottom of the stairwell, a crooked grin sparking those gold eyes as he strolled closer. “Or shall we call you his failure?”

I will have what I want.

Fresh fear chilled my nape. Florian and the word failure would never coexist.

I shrank deeper into the water until it tickled my chin. “I’m trying to bathe.”

“Oh?” Avrin’s smile stretched. He tore off his tunic and unfastened his tight pants. “Unfortunately, Princess, these springs are communal.” He pushed his pants down. “You must share.”

I snapped my slack mouth closed and scowled, averting my gaze from his toned and tan abdomen.

“How’s the neck?” the rude creature asked, descending the steps into the pool entirely naked and far too slow.

“Fine.”

He swam to the other side of the spring, then slipped underwater. I was more annoyed than impressed by his dramatic exit from the water.

He swept his fingers through his short black hair. Droplets slid over sculpted cheeks and clung to his long lashes. “I’m curious, Princess.”

I nearly told him not to call me that, but it could no longer be ignored. It was who I was, no matter how ill-fitting.

“Curiosity indeed kills,” I drawled instead and stared at the formation of sharp rocks behind his head. “Or at least it tries.”

“Yet here you are.” I could hear the grin shaping his words. “How did you escape him?”

I met his gaze then, absorbing the unwavering way he watched me. Almost laughing, I suddenly understood why he’d rudely joined me in the springs. “You think he sent me to you?”

Avrin said nothing, just continued to stare.

“I wish,” I admitted, though it lacked the sarcasm I intended, my fingers climbing to my neck again.

His eyes followed and narrowed upon the healing skin. “He did that to you?”

“No,” I said. “Some of his loyal guards with a hatred for this kingdom did.”