I Am the Wild (The Night Firm #1)- Karpov Kinrade Page 0,56

quickly to my room, exhausted and with much weighing on my mind.

Moon curls up on my lap as I sit in front of the fire with my eyes closed. The heat warms my face and hands, which are perpetually cold from the drafts in the castle. In the distance, I hear the music of a violin playing a haunting melody. My skin buzzes with my flash as the music slides into me, calling me.

Even my kitten takes notice, jumping off my lap and stalking to the door in curiosity.

I stand, wrapping myself in the knit blanket from my chair, and follow the notes through the halls. I feel a presence behind me and turn, expecting to see Lily or Matilda, but no one is there.

I keep walking, and again, I feel like I'm being watched, or followed. I turn again and catch the hint of a white dress turning the corner. I follow it, calling out, but when I look, no one is there.

Perplexed, I resume my hunt for the beautiful music and find myself before a heavy door that is slightly ajar. I knock softly, though I am loathe to interrupt the masterful playing.

The door creaks open just enough for me to see inside.

I am stunned to see the man behind the magical music is none other than the hot-headed Liam Night, bane of my existence and perpetual pain in my neck??iterally.

Emotions of irritation and admiration war in me as his music sucks me in. His body sways in time to the melody, his eyes are closed, his concentration solely on his instrument. He is naked and his muscular upper body glints in the silver light of the Dragon's Breath shining through the large window that he is silhouetted against. He works his violin like a true master, coaxing each note out like a lover bringing his partner to climax.

I want to turn away and leave, to put as much distance between me and this arrogant bastard as possible, but his music has paralyzed me. I feel rooted in place, transfixed by the complex emotions this unfamiliar piece evokes.

When the song ends, the silence comes slowly as the last notes fades into nothing. I'm brought back to myself and flush a scarlet red as I turn to leave, but I am not fast enough.

He opens his eyes and sees me before I can make my escape.

"Stop. Why are you here?" he growls, holding his violin in his left hand, the bow in his right, as he stalks over to me. He seems unconcerned with his nudity, but I don't know where to let my eyes land.

I know where they want to land.

"I heard someone playing and wanted to be closer to the music," I say, hating how dwarfed I feel by him.

He doesn't seem to know what to do with that answer, so he turns away.

That just gives me another enticing view I shouldn't be noticing.

"What piece was that?" I ask, not sure why I want to continue this conversation as I force my eyes to stay on his upper back and no lower.

"Something I wrote," he says reluctantly, and my heart thumps loudly in my chest at this unexpected tenderness that arises in him when he plays.

"It's beautiful," I tell him honestly. "I'm sorry to bother you. I'll leave you be."

"Wait," he says, turning. He frowns, staring at me. "Do you really not know?"

"Not know what?" I ask.

"What you are?"

I gulp, unhappy with the direction this conversation is taking. "I'm human. A mundane, as you call it. Haven't I been reminded of that often enough?"

"But you aren't really, are you? At least not fully. You could read our ad."

"Yes. That's been established."

He puts his violin on its stand and hangs the bow, then turns and walks towards me. My kitten meows and hides behind my legs as Liam comes so close I can feel his breath on my face. His body emanates heat and his eyes burn with barely contained passions, though for pleasure or pain it's hard to tell. I've only experienced pain from him thus far.

"You could not have read our ad as a mundane. I do not know why you smell like one," he says, leaning in to inhale my neck, his mouth a hair's width from the vein pulsing in my neck. "But I have tasted you, Eve Oliver. You are no human. There is power in you. Deep and dark and wild. You are dangerous," he says, his voice a low growl. "Who