Lord of the Abyss - By Nalini Singh Page 0,51

a scream of knowledge, was the realization of the spell her father had cast on the night Elden fell. It had caught Micah, tangled him in threads of darkest sorcery.

For how could a prince return if he was not a man at all?

She should have run. But her feet remained rooted to the black stone of the castle. She knew about feeling grotesque, about being alone. She wouldn't abandon Micah now, when he was this monster her father had made him. "Hello," she said, hiding her trembling hands behind her back. "Why are you up there?"

The huge creature cocked its head, its eyes continuing to swirl with menace, its claws flexing and unflexing on the thick beam. Curls of wood drifted to the floor, making it clear his claws were as sharp as any weapon. Fear thumped in her throat, and he growled, low and deep.

A predator would scent fear, would hunger for it.

Straightening her spine, she took a deep, quiet breath, and reached for the sorcery within, her mouth still touched with the metallic scent of iron. The power flooded her body, flowing through to inhabit every part of her, until she wasn't simply Liliana with the ugly face and the hair so rough and hard. She was a blood sorceress who knew her own strength. "Come down," she said, putting a subtle compulsion in the request. "I would admire you."

A considering look.

"You would like to be admired, would you not?" she murmured with a smile. "You are a fierce creature."

He began to strut along the wooden beam, this monster who was as arrogant as Micah. She was amazed at the grace of him when those knotted muscles, those overgrown shoulders too big for the rest of his body, should've left him unable to move. But move he did, with a power that said he could crush her with but a thought. Now, he used that power to jump into the air, twisting around to clamp his claws into the wall at the apex of his lunge.

He walked down that wall as if he were walking across the floor, using his claws to slice into the stone, his mouth open in a lazy yawn to reveal rows of teeth the gleaming ebony shade of the castle itself. Each and every tooth was razored to a lethal point - the same as the spines along the line of his back, black as jet.

"You are strong," she said, using her blood magic to imbue her words with shimmering intensity. "And so very large." That last slipped out past her veneer of confidence. For this terrible creature who was Micah stood taller than her, though he was on four legs, each of his paws so massive as to be able to annihilate her face with a single swat.

He growled, but didn't spring for her throat.

Burying her nervousness with sheer will, she said, "Let me admire you." Again, she threaded compulsion, silken and seductive, through the words - blood sorcery to combat blood sorcery.

Those swirling red eyes followed her every move as she shifted to lay a hand on his mane. "It's softer than my hair," she murmured without stopping to think about it. "I'm jealous."

A huffing growl that sounded almost like laughter. It made her smile, chuckle into his mane as she drew her fingers through the thick brown of it. "So glorious," she said, admiring him in truth in spite of her fear, because he was a creature who demanded respect. "Though I do wish you'd sit down - it would make it easier for me to pet you."

He bared his teeth at her, an aristocrat who was not to be given orders.

She bowed her head at once, understanding that any defiance would likely lead to that head rolling off her shoulders. "Please, my lord. I am only a small thing."

A low snarling sound drifted along the air currents, but he folded himself down at last, his massive head coming to her abdomen. "Thank you." She began to stroke him again. "You are strong, indeed, to break that table."

Turning that head with its too-large jaw to look at where the table had been cleaved almost in half, the beast huffed out an agreement.

"Yes," she said, entangling him in fine, fine tendrils of persuasion. Micah the man would've caught her. Micah the cursed beast didn't appear to understand the subtleties of magic. "Should you not rest after such an action? Every great warrior must rest."

He angled his head and looked at her