Valkhara
I was halfway through dressing when I felt it again annoying prickling sensation crawling up the back of my neck like someone was watching me through smoke.
Only this time, it wasn't a someone.
It was a thought.
Not mine.
Mine were tightly coiled, sealed behind the mental walls I'd spent years perfecting. But this one slipped in like fog, like silk soaked in wine and warning. It whispered something low and intimate, and I nearly dropped the blade I was strapping to my thigh.
You look beautiful when you lie to yourself.
I straightened, pulse flaring. The air in my chamber hadn't moved. The door was locked. I was alone.
But I wasn't.
I exhaled slowly, adjusting the strap again like I hadn't just heard a voice inside my own head.
It didn't speak again.
But it didn't leave either.
The weight of it curled around me like a presence with a pulse, brushing the edge of my consciousness with knowing fingers.
Whoever it was… they were near. Close enough to see me. Close enough to hear what I hadn't said.
I stepped into the hallway dressed in black and bloodsteel. No cloak. No braid. Just bare skin and blades. The corridors were quieter than usual, still thick with the stench of fresh death. Another trial was coming. I wasn't called to fight today but I wanted to watch again. Needed to see who still thought they had a shot.
The path to the viewing balcony curved upward toward the eastern watch tower one of the less used ones. It offered a direct sightline to the sand without interference from the noble balconies. No gawking nobles. No priest circle. Just blood, shadows, and silence.
Exactly what I needed.
I rounded the last corner and stopped.
He was already there.
Standing in the dark, arms folded behind his back, violet eyes glowing faintly like twin gems lit by moonlight. His hair was black and tousled like he'd just stepped out of someone's bed, and his suit was impossibly tailored. He didn't move when I entered.
He'd been waiting.
I stepped into the room slowly, carefully, not breaking eye contact.
"I don't like being followed," I said.
Azric tilted his head slightly, a smile curling at the corner of his mouth. "I didn't follow. I arrived."
"Before me."
"Because I knew you'd come."
I hated how smooth his voice was. Like it was poured into me instead of spoken aloud. It slid along my bones like silk soaked in sin.
"I'm not predictable."
"No," he agreed. "But your mind is… loud."
That did it.
I froze. "You've been inside my head."
"I've brushed it," he said. "And it brushed back."
I stepped forward, slow and deliberate. "If you try to read my mind again, I'll cut out your tongue so you can't narrate what you find."
Azric grinned. Full and sharp now. "That's the thing, Valkhara. I don't need to read your thoughts. You want to be seen. You're practically begging to be understood."
"I'm begging for your silence."
"You're screaming in your head."
I blinked and in that moment, he was in front of me.
Not fast. Not rushed.
Just… there.
He moved like smoke. Like the distance between us had been a suggestion, not a barrier.
"Would you like me to stop?" he asked, voice low, his gaze dropping to my lips.
I didn't answer.
Couldn't.
Because the bond flared hard.
Not just a pull. Not just a tug.
This was pressure. Magnetic. Desperate.
It knew him.
And he knew me.
Azric inhaled slowly through his nose. "You smell like fire and steel. Like want wrapped in rage."
I took a shaky breath. "Is that how you get them all to spread their legs for you?"
He chuckled. "I don't have to convince anyone to do that, Valkhara. They ask. They beg."
"And I'm not them."
"No," he said. "You're so much worse."
Worse.
More dangerous. More tempting. More… feral.
He circled me once, slow, never touching. Just letting the bond stir between us like heat off coals.
"I came to see if it was real," he said finally. "The pull. The whispers. The bond."
"And?"
He stopped in front of me. Close. Too close.
"It's louder than I've ever felt. And messier. Like something ancient woke up inside both of us and doesn't care what we want."
I clenched my jaw. "I don't want you."
He leaned in slightly, his mouth a breath from mine. "But you will."
Then he turned and walked out of the room, his voice echoing behind him like a promise stitched in shadow.
"Sleep well tonight, Valkhara."
What the fuck did that mean?
I didn't go straight back to my chambers.
I needed to burn him out of my system first.
The training arena wasn't empty, but the warriors who filled it knew better than to approach me. I grabbed a blade, stripped off the outer layer of my armor, and set to work on a row of wooden dummies that had seen better days.
Each strike was too hard. Too fast. Not controlled.
My body was off-balance, coiled in a way I couldn't uncoil.
Because he was still in my head.
Even without reaching, I could feel him brushing against the edge of my thoughts like fingertips tapping glass. Just curious enough to drive me insane. Just distant enough to make me question if it was real.
And worse?
I kept catching myself thinking about his mouth.
His voice.
The way he didn't blink when I threatened him.
He wanted to be inside me.
And not just my mind.
The thought made me slam my blade so hard through the dummy's chest that the wood cracked and split apart in a burst of splinters.
I dropped the weapon and left before anyone could speak.
The corridor back to my room felt colder than it had that morning. The torches didn't flicker when I passed. The shadows didn't move. But the bond?
The bond tightened.
Every step closer to my door, the heat under my skin deepened. A weight settled between my thighs that had nothing to do with combat and everything to do with the fucker who'd slithered into my thoughts like he had a right to them.
I didn't light a candle when I entered my chambers.
I stripped. Pulled on a thin sleep tunic. Climbed into bed.
My skin still buzzed from where his breath had touched it.
"You will," he'd said.
Not could.
Will.
Arrogant bastard.
I turned on my side and closed my eyes.
Sleep didn't come easy.
But when it did, it came hot.
And he was waiting for me there.
The dream crept in slow. Velvet and dark. My body wasn't bound, but I couldn't move. Couldn't speak.
I was laid out across silk sheets, bare, breathing hard. The bond pulsed like a heartbeat beneath my ribs, dragging fire through my veins.
And then he was there.
Azric.
Not smiling now.
His mouth was on my inner thigh, moving higher.