Norrix stared at her as she bent over the table. She couldn’t seriously think he would have her like this after he’d done nothing but offer her kindness. The idea that she was comparing him to the mage, that she thought there was any way he would treat her like that, sent the vampire in him surging to break free.
His vision sharpened as his eyes darkened, and his fangs descended fully. There was no confusion in his mind about what he wanted to do. A focus like he hadn’t felt in eight thousand years honed his memories.
The Ildum avoided killing mages when they could, but if it was obvious who the new mage would be, it was satisfying to murder the old one. Two of Norrix’s pet projects over the millennia had been to find a way to keep the mage magic trapped within the body it died in, and track the magic when it departed. While nothing he’d tried worked, the three siblings were always eager to test a new theory.
— the Eel Mage drowned in a tide pool,
— the Spider Mage strangled with spider silk.
No one could say Riordan didn’t appreciate irony.
— the Wolf Mage howling as Requiescere sung him out of existence.
— the Leopard Mage turned into a rug in cat form by Tazraus.
Norris had Witnessed some creative ways to end a life over his long life. No matter which mage abused his Dragă, he would find a way to avenge her.
He needed to take Myth’s blood. That way, he could track her anywhere in the world. Then he’d give her the knife and follow her home when she left.
For now, he had to convince her to stay. She could have her prize, but not in exchange for sex. Venom filled his fangs, urging him to bite. When he had his Dragă, though, it wouldn't be a transaction or when she was scared and not ready.
Norrix fought his vampire side down as best he could, stepped forward and touched her hip.
MYTH
MYTH WAITED, GAZE AVERTED. She might have to do this, but she didn’t have to watch him. She wouldn’t look at him, this man she was so drawn to. Even now, that strange yet familiar magic inside her pulled at her consciousness, trying to connect to him.
If Iqiohr even suspected she thought of someone other than him, he would punish her. Her body trembled, and she forced herself to stop, but still flinched when Norrix touched her hip. His fingers felt cool, but heat spread under her skin. She tensed in anticipation of the slimy, cold gel to make her numb. Iqiohr used it to prevent her feeling pleasure since she didn’t provide him with magic.
Instead, Norrix pulled her dress down. Her hopes plummeted with the hemline, all the way to her feet. He didn’t want her, and she had nothing else to offer him.
Fingers wrapped around her arm, lifting her up and turning her to face Norrix. She kept her eyes closed, not wanting to see the handsome face of the man who had just destroyed her life.
“What was that?” Norrix sounded furious. She knew this mood. It meant she wouldn’t get anything from him now. He took another deep breath and blew it out. When he spoke again, his voice was gentled. He held a hand to her chin and tipped her face up. “Myth?”
She didn’t know how he wanted to use his vessel. Myth opened her eyes. “I... I was ready and waiting for you.”
“No. You weren’t. You weren’t even close to ready.”
“I’m sorry. Do you not have the gel?”
“Gel? What gel?”
Myth stared at the floor. The dark wood made a nice floor. “So I don’t feel anything.”
Norrix’s jaw clenched, and his eyes changed to completely black. He released her arm and stepped away. Like she disgusted him.
Tears threatened to spill, and she widened her eyes to keep them in. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I don’t know how to be your Esne. I know you already have a vessel you share with the other man. I saw you holding her hand. I will try to be as pleasing as that one. Just tell me what you want me to do!” Her pulse raced and her voice rose in pitch. There was a way not-Iqiohr used her. A way she liked less because there was no numbing gel and she felt all of it. But she had to make Norrix happy, or he’d never give her the knife. She fell to her knees and locked her hands behind her head.
“What the—” All Norrix’s muscles stretched and grew tight, making him seem bigger and become something dangerous. The towel flashed thigh all the way to his hip at her as Norrix paced and ran his hands through his hair. A growl rumbled from his chest. “Stand up.”
He sounded like the ferocious wolf that ate girls and grandmothers. Maybe wolves were real and not just in stories. Trembling, Myth rose to her feet. Arms wound around herself, she stared at the very nice floor and tried to be small.
Norrix’s breath burst from him all at once. “I’m scaring you. I’m sorry. I don’t want you to be frightened of me. You of all people need never fear me.” His body relaxed, the tension bleeding away. He smiled. It was a nice smile that made his eyes lose the black color. “Ember is a friend of mine. That’s all she is to me. Stryx and I don’t have, use, or share... Esnes or vessels. Ember is Stryx’s Dragă, like you are mine. He would never hurt her, like I would never hurt you.”
Dragă sounded like another word for Esne. Women still belonged to men. And she’d seen what men did to them. Myth swallowed hard. “What do you call what you do to your Dragăs?”
Norrix moved faster than she could see. One second he was across the room from her, the next his arms were around her, pulling her to him. She kept her arms wrapped around herself, but he pressed one hand to her head so her cheek lay against his chest. His heart beat under her ear.
“Love, Myth. We love our Dragăs.”
Bewildered, Myth gaped. Love was common in the stories her mother shared with her, but she’d never heard a man talk about it before. The love she knew about from stories was nothing like how men treated women. She thought she loved him, but he loved her, too?
“We would live and die for our Dragăs. Do anything to make them happy. The physical part of that is called sex, fucking, making love, or screwing. But Myth, what happens to you is called rape. It shouldn’t happen to anyone.”
Now she understood. He knew she was used. Damaged. That’s why he didn’t want her. She wished she knew what Iqiohr wanted the knife for so she could find something else for him to use. Iqiohr thought she didn’t have magic, that she could only bear children who would have magic.
But Myth did. Before she was born, her mother had bound it, hidden it deep so no Scorpion Mage could steal it. If Myth used it, even once, she couldn’t ever lock it away it again. If she found a replacement for the knife, something that worked better, her secret would be out, but maybe Iqiohr would forgive her for losing the knife. She’d do it to save Fable.
“Probably the polite thing to do is get dressed, but I’m afraid if I turn around you’ll disappear.” Norrix released her from his embrace, but tugged her behind him over to the sofa. “Sit here and talk with me. Please.”
She settled next to him on the couch, but he didn’t let her go. His strong fingers stroked her hand, thumb rubbing back and forth over her wrist, where her pulse couldn’t decide whether to beat faster or calm under his touch. Her skin tingled and heated.
“You don’t need to fear me, Myth. I won’t hurt you.”
“What do you want from me?”
“Everything.” His deep voice gave the word have four syllables that made her shiver. “All of you. And I want to offer you everything and all of me in return.”
That sounded like love in the stories she knew. Was it possible outside Aztlan there were men like the ones in the fairy tales?
“Ask me for anything, Myth. Except for the knife. I already know that’s what you’re here for. Ask me for something else and I will do it. Let me show you how we treat our Dragăs.”
Anything? It was hard to think when Norrix touched her. His bare leg pressed against hers, his thumb still drew dizzying circles on her wrist. She wanted him to touch her more. An ache she’d never felt before made her want to squeeze her thighs together. Iqiohr wasn’t here. He
wouldn’t know what she did in this room. It might be her only chance to make part of a story real.
“I want a kiss.” She rushed the words out, afraid if she said them slow they wouldn’t come out at all. “Kiss me like in a story.” Myth closed her eyes and waited, wanting to remember every second of her first, and probably only, kiss.
But Norrix didn’t kiss her. She flushed, mortified at the rejection. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have —”
“Myth.”
He kept saying her name. Her name. Something in her tummy fluttered when he said it in his deep voice. She opened her eyes. His were all black and made her tingly, like she could feel them on her skin and he was eating her with them, but not scary this time.
He shifted to face her and stroked her bottom lip with his thumb. “I need to know what kind of story.”
“What kind?” She blinked. “A story like... like my mother told me. With a prince and a princess.”
His voice was deeper, more growly. “There are lots of stories and lots of kinds of kisses. Are those the only kinds of stories you know?”
Feeling inadequate, she nodded.
“Okay. A kiss from a prince to his princess then.”
Even though she didn’t have to, Myth kept her eyes on Norrix’s as his head lowered. He stopped, his lips almost touching hers. Before she could change her mind, she raised her face the needed fraction of an inch and touched her lips to his.
Norrix’s lips were soft and moved over hers in gentle caresses. Savoring the sensation of another person touching her this way, she didn’t move, content to try and memorize the moment so she could replay it later.
Her body had other ideas. She wanted to touch him, but her hands hovered in the air, years of being terrified of touching someone else battling with her need for Norrix. He caught her hands and placed one on his ribs, the other on his shoulder. He touched her in return, one hand cupping the back of her head as he deepened the kiss.
Myth mimicked Norrix, moving her lips over his. The growly sound he made emboldened her, intensified the ache between her legs and hardened her nipples. She didn’t mind that growl. It might be okay if he turned into a wolf and ate her up now. She hoped he would. One of her hands traveled his ribs and brushed his nipple, the other slid from his shoulder, up his neck and into the soft curls of his hair.
His tongue slid against the seam of her lips and a sharp tooth scraped her. She gasped and opened her mouth, giving a startled moan when his tongue slid inside. Pulling herself closer, she licked at his tongue in return, then cautiously lapped at one of his sharp teeth.
He broke their kiss, leaning his forehead against hers.
“I...” Myth touched her lips. They tingled and tasted of Norrix. She should have asked for more than one kiss. “I think maybe you’re like the big, bad wolf more than a prince.”
Norrix's lips curved into a smile, revealing one fang. “I can do big and bad, but I’m no wolf.”
Fangs should be scary. Monsters had fangs and black eyes. It depends on if the monster is yours or not. Myth touched the point with the tip of her finger. “What are you?”
“Vampire. Do you know any stories about them?”
She nodded. “Vampires bite, and can’t go in... But I saw you in the sun!”
“We can go into the sun on special occasions. That’s a story for another time, though. Tell me what else you know about vampires, other than we bite.” Norrix moved fast again, capturing her finger in his mouth and pressing both fangs against her skin.
Heat rushed through her. No one ever even brushed against her skin for fear of punishment. Norrix could bite with his fangs and touch her deeper than skin. He could touch her blood.
Norrix released her finger and pulled her close. His head dropped to her throat. “What are you thinking, Myth?”
He murmured the words against her skin of her neck, the erratically beating pulse there carrying the words through her blood, making hot trails from her neck to somewhere low in her middle. “I want... I want you to bite me.”
His groan made her shiver. Myth allowed herself to touch, sliding her hands up his shoulders into the curls of his hair.
“We’re about to cross the line from PG-13.”
“I don’t know what that means.” That hadn’t been in the encyclopedias.
“It means a different kind of kiss from a much naughtier story than your mother ever told you.”
Myth didn’t recognize her husky voice when it said, “Show me what vampires do with their Dragăs.”
NORRIX
KISS THE GIRL. Zax might get all her pop culture references wrong, but she always knew what she was talking about.
Norrix kissed his girl. Her small hands fluttered like tiny birds, unable to decide where to land. He set her hands against his skin and let her explore.
She pulled him towards her, and he let her. Shifting to brace his body over hers, he froze as her scent changed from warm, sweet apples to have a slightly sour odor. Reversing directions, Norrix pulled back and broke their kiss. “You smell scared.”
Myth wrinkled her nose and sniffed, eyes affronted as she glared at him. “I smell?”
How much should he tell her? He’d given her his name and told her he was a vampire. The mage would know who Norrix was and what Myth meant to him if she shared that information. Knowing more details wouldn’t matter now.
“One way a vampire recognizes his Dragă is a scent only he can smell.” Norrix buried his face in her neck and inhaled. “You smell like sweet apples to me. When you’re scared, your scent changes. It’s less... pure. When I was leaning over you, your scent soured and your heart beat too fast.”
“You can hear my heart beating, too? Is that how you always knew what I was thinking yesterday?”
He nipped her neck, making her gasp. “Partially. We have heightened senses. Trust me when I say it always turns out a vampire needs all the help he can get when it comes to pleasing his Dragă. I was paying very close attention to make sure you were enjoying yourself.”
“Yesterday was one of the best days I’ve ever had.”
“I’m pleased to hear that.”
“I’m nervous.”
Norrix pulled away so he could catch her eyes. Her nervousness was probably true, but he wanted to avoid anything that might remind her of past traumas. “Only things you like are going to happen here, Myth.” He liked how her breath caught and her heart beat a little faster when he said her name. Her scent warmed and regained the sweetness.
“What about...” Her gaze went to his erection.
“Don’t worry about that. I can deal with a hard on. I can’t deal with knowing you’re afraid. Especially of me.” He spread his arms across the sofa, one hand gripping the back, the other on the arm. “Here, you can have your way with me.”
Would she? Esnes were nothing more than sex slaves and breeders to mages. He never would have opened the door naked except for a towel if he’d known it was her on the other side, but the rooms were too insulated. She’d shown up expecting him to use her, and that first impression at the door certainly didn’t help. Although he had liked it when she inspected him thoroughly and her arousal spiked.
He wanted her, but the drive to possess her was tempered by the fact he couldn’t begin to imagine the circumstances his Dragă had to live with. She’d even told him Esne was her name. Norrix wanted to murder the world. It was a good thing she couldn’t scent him or hear his heart beat. Rage simmered under his skin. He wanted to rip the heads off everyone who had ever hurt her. He took slight satisfaction in the fact that Zax had killed one of them. Maybe the other one would screw up while he was here.
The vampire in him didn’t like not being the one to protect and avenge his Dragă, but he’d settle for seeing that minion’s soul suffer if it eliminated threats to her. The need to bite her and drink deep so he could track her had venom building up in his fangs and he struggled to rein that part of him in.
Myth calmed his monster right down wh
en she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his chest, over the heart that beat for her. Now the beast wanted to purr.
Her exploration was tentative at first, curious, but also unsure and wary. Like a tickle, when what he craved was a scratch that scored his skin. It was a deliciously agonizing frustration as she methodically touched him everywhere... except his dick.
He was pretty sure she ran every individual strand of hair on his head through her fingers. She could probably give his tailor more accurate measurements with her hands than he took with his tape measure. He thought she’d be able to draw every scar and muscle from memory with her tongue.
The best part was her reaction. Her apple scent grew warmer, then hot and liquid like cider. Her arousal hung thick in the air. He took deep breaths he didn’t need to fill his lungs and try to calm himself down. It wasn’t an effective technique.
His blood sang and he was wondering if his fangs could actually explode, or if the furniture was going to snap in his grip, when a delicate fingertip traced the grooves of his abs. Again. She’d done that several times, but this time her finger slipped under the hem of the towel. Her innocent curiosity was an aphrodisiac that may kill him. He groaned, and she froze. “Don’t stop, Myth. You didn’t do anything wrong. I like when you touch me.”
MYTH
MYTH REVELED IN BEING able to touch Norrix and the way he reacted to her. His muscles jumped and flexed. His eyes darkened to black and he didn’t hide his fangs anymore. The sofa creaked where he squeezed it, but he didn’t let go. He didn’t tell her what to do. Even though it was obvious what he wanted, and he was strong enough to make her obey, he remained patient with her.
But it wasn’t enough. Touching him was doing things to her body too, and only him touching her again would help with that. What was happening to her?
“I—” Myth swallowed against a dry throat. The sensations of her hard nipples against her dress and heat in her belly made her squirm. “I want you to touch me too.”
Myth's Legend: Norrix Page 17
