Suddenly, I could no longer see the door of the bathing chamber. The room had become pitch black, leaving me blind, and that . . . yeah, that wasn’t normal. I started to take a step back.
A rush of warm air stirred the edges of my robe. My fingers slipped away from the sash as I went completely still, holding my breath. The nape of my neck tingled. The air of the chamber shifted, thickened and became electrified, reminding me of the atmosphere right before lightning struck.
I wasn’t alone in the utter, unnatural darkness. The breath in my lungs left me in one ragged exhale as an acute awareness pressed against the entire right side of my body. It was like I was suddenly standing too close to open flames. Instinct kicked in, not the kind fueled by my abilities but the kind fueled by pure need to survive. It screamed that I flee.
My trembling lips parted to speak or maybe scream, but before a single sound could escape, an arm came around my waist, jerking me back against a hard wall of muscle. I was lifted until my feet no longer touched the floor— until they dangled several inches from the floor.
There was no mortal I knew who could lift me so easily, and that could only mean—
“I have two questions, and each answer better be honest,” a deep voice drawled, his cadence of speech almost relaxed but the tone low in warning, at the same instant a warm, callused hand pressed on the expanse of skin above my breasts, forcing my back against a . . . a chest. “What are you doing in my quarters?” Breath stirred the wisps of hair at my temple. “And do you have a death wish?”
CHAPTER 13
A Hyhborn.
The Baron had sent me to the quarters of a freaking Hyhborn.
And not just any Hyhborn. Him.
Lord Thorne.
I grasped his forearm. My fingers met smooth, crisp linen. The hold on me was nothing like when Muriel had grabbed me, but it still caused panic to ripple through me.
“That’s not an answer,” Lord Thorne chided softly.
Then he moved.
In two steps, he had me pinned, my cheek plastered against the wall and my arms trapped. His strength was terrifying, sending my pulse into a frantic pace. I pushed back against him, trying to lower my feet to the floor. He pressed in, the full length of his body encaging mine.
“I suggest that you try again,” he said, his cheek grazing mine. “You’re getting a very rare, very generous offer. I suggest you don’t throw it away.”
“It’s me,” I said. “We’ve— ”
“I know it’s you,” he interrupted, and my eyes went wide. “But that doesn’t answer my questions, na’laa.”
It took me a heartbeat to remember. “I was sent to you.”
“By?” The arm at my waist shifted, and I felt his hand open along the side of my waist and his fingers press into the thin robe.
“Baron Huntington. He said you were expecting company.”
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.”