Nevernight (The Nevernight Chronicle #1) - Jay Kristoff Page 0,144

inside.

She touched the arkemical lamp on her table, waiting for the heat of her hand to spark the light inside. It flickered, a warm sepia glow blooming in the glass. He was behind her, she could feel him. Feel his shadow. Feel his fear at being here. His hunger. And holding her breath, she turned and looked at his face.

A picture, just as she’d known he’d be. The ink was gone, the draketooth scars vanished, a smooth, flawless tan beneath. Cheeks more defined, the hollows around his eyes filled. The kind of handsome a girl might raise an army for, slay a god or daemon for. This girl, at least.

“The weaver knows her work,” Mia said.

Tric looked at his feet, avoiding her gaze. She smiled to see him abashed.

“How does it feel?”

“Not bad,” he shrugged. “I mean, it hurt like fire and iron, but after, not so bad.”

“Do you miss them? The marks?”

“She let me keep them.”

The boy motioned to a small glass phial on a leather thong around his throat. Mia saw it was filled with dark, gleaming liquid.

“Is that…?”

He nodded. “All that remains of my grandfather’s handiwork.”

Reaching out to touch it, Mia trailed one finger down his collar to the skin beneath. She saw the pulse at his neck quickening. Turned away to hide her smile.

“Drink?”

He nodded wordlessly. She busied herself with the clay cups, the bottle she’d lifted during one of her early forays in search of trinkets for Mouser’s list. Though the whiskey wasn’t worth any marks in the Shahiid’s contest, Mercurio had taught her to always swipe a good label when she saw it.

She poured two shots, offered Tric a cup. He clinked it against her own, knocked it back without pause. Mia poured another, one for herself. “Sit?”

The boy looked around the room, down at the stool tucked beneath her dresser.

“There’s only one chair,” he said.

Turning away, Mia slipped her robe slowly off her shoulders. Letting it fall in a crumpled heap on the floor as she crawled onto her bed, reveling in the feel of his eyes on her body. She placed the bottle on the nightstand, reclined among the pillows, legs stretched out before her, whiskey in hand. Waiting.

He walked toward the bed, feet soundless on the stone. Moving like a wolf, head lowered and breathing her in. Mia knew he must be able smell her want. Her heart was hammering against her ribs. Her mouth dry as the desert beyond the walls. She sipped the goldwine again, savoring the smoky burn down her throat. Tric sat on the mattress edge, unable to tear his eyes from her. Tension crackling between them, curling the edge of her lips. She could feel it thrumming in her fingertips. Pulsing beneath her skin. Desire. Her for him. Him for her. Nothing and no one between.

He knocked back his drink with a wince. She watched the light play on his lips as he swallowed, the deep troughs at his throat, the strong, flawless line of his jaw.

“Another?”

He nodded. Mute. She pushed herself up slowly, felt the strap of her slip fall off one shoulder. Sitting up cross-legged, the silk bunched around her hips. Filling with a dark delight as she saw his eyes run over her body, down to the shadow between her legs. She rose up on all fours, prowled across the furs, eyes locked on his. Reaching for the cup in his hand, fingertips circling the lip, onto his wrist. Up the smooth swell of his bare arm, watching his skin prickle, listening to his breath catch. Her face just inches from his.

She wasn’t sure who moved first. Her or him. Only that they came together with a crash, her eyes closed, her mouth finding his as if she’d always known the way. Warm skin and warmer lips. Strong hands and hard muscle. His fingers wrapped in her hair. Her nails clawing his skin. His mouth crushed to hers, tasting the whiskey on his tongue. She tugged off his shirt, fumbled with his belt. He clutched a handful of her slip, tore it from her body as if she’d never need it again.

She pushed him onto his back, lifted herself up on all fours, straddling his face. Wanting to taste him as he tasted her. His mouth left a burning a trail up her inner thighs, hands roaming her naked skin and making her shiver. With a gasp, she managed to tug his britches down around his knees, felt his fingers parting her folds