A Cursed Hunt (The Wings & Witches Series Book 1), page 24
“And do you know who this is?” Meira raised a brow.
“Not at all.” He touched his cheek. Growled at his bloody fingers. They must have overestimated his height. If they’d been just a bit lower they would have cut open his throat.
The leather of her outfit creaked as she squatted down and examined the body. Blood was already dripping down into the steps and out onto the walkway. Not quite the welcome to Croughton he’d been hoping for.
Meira picked up the fallen dagger, examined it, and used the blade to part the man's lips before peering into his mouth. She shrugged. “It seems lots of people want you dead, Remis.” She sighed. “He’s an assassin, likely. They’re always so poorly trained.” With a roll of her pretty green eyes, she stood up. “Men somehow always think themselves capable of anything without any actual evidence to back them up. Poor fool.”
“You say that so generally.” He cocked his head, watching her. “You can’t mean all men.”
“Most men. Probably yourself included,” she said with a small smirk. “If a snake bites you, you become wary of all snakes.” She finished as if that made it clear enough. Perhaps it did.
He nodded and pointed down at the still-bleeding body. “And what do we do with that.”
“Well, you can report him to the authorities or if this place has a back entrance you could probably toss the body out that way. They’re likely to assume the man was robbed and cart him off for us.”
The utterly casual way they discussed doing away with a dead body had his stomach knotting up. She was a scale rider. She was a witch. She knew death better than most. And if the fight for Elton Hamza’s business was worth killing each other for then Remis would soon be well acquainted with death too.
“I’ll drag him out back then.”
“I’ll make sure there aren’t any more assassins lurking.”
Remis watched as she strolled into the dark home, her sword dragging against the floor behind her. She began humming as she went and her tune grew distant the further she went. He frowned at the man and at the blood. He’d have to clean that up too. Or the local authorities would be knocking come morning.
Ignoring the exhaustion that wanted to pull him into sleep, he tucked his arms underneath the assassin’s and grunted as he dragged his body through the hall. Blood trailed behind them. He was thankful though that the assassin wasn’t a particularly large man. The stranger was pale-skinned with muddy brown hair, tall, but incredibly lean—almost malnourished. He could have been someone just trying to get himself out of debt with a job that paid well for all Remis knew.
By the time he’d left the body in the back alleyway several houses down and returned to the house the trail of blood he’d left had disappeared. Standing in the rocks, he turned once then twice looking for the proof that he’d just brought a dead body through the yard. He scratched at his head and went inside to find Meira crouched down in front of the lit hearth.
She straightened when he entered and turned to look at him. “Rest of the house is clear.”
A sort of peace settled over him knowing that he wasn’t in for any more surprises. Or so he hoped. He motioned toward the fire behind her. “The blood’s gone. And you managed a fire quite quickly.” A statement, but really an unspoken question.
One by one, she pulled at the fingertips of her glove. Lifting her bare hand, she let the smallest flame balance in her palm. It illuminated her face before she made a fist and the light went out. “I’m rusty from years without use but…magic. It’s good for me to practice again.” The half tilt of her mouth suggested that it was painfully obvious what she’d done.
This woman, backlit by the flames, was his saving grace and ultimately his demise. He was drawn to her, drawn to that madness she’d pointed out. There was a lustful attraction and then there was this.
Remis leaned himself against the arching doorway. “You’ve saved my ass a couple of times now and I’m realizing that I didn’t even thank you.”
“Well, thank away.” She folded her arms over her chest.
“Thank you, Meira Eve Spektor, for saving my life.” He held her steady gaze.
Her laugh was a beautiful note that echoed throughout the room. “Is this more of the charm meant to persuade me from killing you? I think you could do better than this.” Each step she took toward him sent his heart pounding faster until she was directly in front of him and stealing away his breath. He swallowed and she watched the bob of his throat like she knew just how flustered she could make him.
Keeping his arm balanced against the doorframe, he leaned down into her, letting himself hover close enough that their lips might brush. “Maybe I'll show you how thankful I am.”
With his lips. His tongue. His cock. However she’d like to. Wherever she’d like to.
“You are dangerous, Remis Lexmore,” she whispered. “If you’re not careful I might let you fulfill every dirty little promise you make me as you try to plead for your life.”
The distance between them was too much. His mind was screaming to close every inch of space that separated them. Kiss her, kiss her now, you fool! Remis tilted toward her—the space she’d occupied was suddenly empty. The thud of her steps had him turning to watch as she sauntered away.
Meira had done an awful lot of chasing to get to him. Perhaps she deserved to be chased herself.
29
Meira
There was only one bed.
Mere minutes ago, Meira had scoured the small home for any other hiding assassins. She had been aware that there was only one bedroom—this place had only been intended for Remis after all—but now, as she stood shoulder to shoulder with him just inside the doorway of the room, she still found herself surprised.
The room itself was quite plain. White walls, minimal decor, a wardrobe on one side of the room stocked with clothes, another fireplace to warm the room, and the single overstuffed bed. To be fair, the bed was quite large for one man and they might even be able to lay in it side by side and never touch. He’d be terribly close to her though. Close enough she might give in and let him kiss her again.
Sighing, she looked behind her toward the dark hall. She could take the couch that was in the sitting room. Slender as it was, it was better than most other places she slept while out on a mission. Her side ached though the bleeding had long stopped and the wound was likely well on its way to healed thanks to the power in her veins.
“Looks cozy.” Remis gave her a pretty half-smile, moving toward the bed with its thick comforter and overflow of pillows. Blankets creased under him as he sat on the edge, bouncing once as though to test it before he patted the space next to him.
“I’ll take the couch.” At least from the couch she could watch the front door for any other unwelcome guests. She turned from the room, but before she could even take another step, Remis had closed the distance between them, his fingers taking hold of her wrist to stop her.
She wanted to run out of his reach. She wanted to throw herself into his arms.
By the Dragons, she wanted to be done with these warring emotions inside of her.
“Meira,” he said quietly, “stay.”
“Remis—”
“If you do not wish to be touched then I will not touch you.” His hand fell back to his side. “Stay. Sleep.”
It was tempting to finally lay her head somewhere that would allow her sore body to relax. More so, it was tempting to lay herself next to the man who so thoroughly confused her.
“Though to be quite clear,” he said, his voice dropping even lower to a strained rasp, “I do want to touch you. I want to do more than touch you. I want to devour you.” His eyes darkened. “Run from me, little witch, and I shall take your place as the wolf and hunt you down. Say the word and I’ll give chase. Then when I have you, there will be no flesh on your body that I will not know completely. That I will not taste. And you—you will beg for mercy when I’ve brought you so thoroughly to climax that your body has gone utterly limp.”
Meira sucked in a breath. Frozen to the spot, all she could do was stand under the intensity of his hungry gaze. Butterflies took flight in her stomach. Warmth pooled at her center and between her legs.
Yes, her mind screamed. Yes. She wanted to let him be the wolf. She could play the part of the rabbit long enough.
“Do you want to play, Meira?” he asked, looking down his nose at her, stepping close enough that he forced her to tip her head back to keep their gazes locked.
For once, she didn’t want to be the one in control. She could have this next hour to let him be the one hunting. Her cheeks and chest felt hot at the idea. Her underwear was so thoroughly soaked at the very imaginings of it.
“Yes,” she answered. She’d take his challenge and play his wicked games. Perhaps she’d even like it. This was the danger of letting him in. And it was equally as thrilling.
He grinned. A wide showing of teeth that sent a shiver down her spine and raised the hair on the back of her neck. When he wanted to, Remis could certainly look the part of a predator.
Slowly, his hands found her waist, smoothed down over her leathers to her hips, and found her sword belt. Remis’ gaze never broke from hers as his fingers deftly undid the buckles. The belt loosened on her waist and disappeared completely before he tossed the belt and sword behind them onto the bed.
With one crooked finger, he lifted her chin further.
“Run.”
Meira did not need to be told twice. She turned down the hall, cataloging what she remembered of the home briefly in the back of her mind. Boots thudding against the ground, she ran. The small home consisted of the bedroom, hall, sitting room, dining room, and kitchen. Both the kitchen and further down the hall, past where Remis stood in the doorway of the bedroom, there were closets, but the enclosed space wouldn’t give her room to fight, much less get away if she was found.
He hadn’t told her how much of a head start he’d give her. There were so few precious seconds for her to make a plan. The soles of her boots squealed as she turned out of the hall and into the dining room. She was hardly winded from the activity but her breath came in pants as the excitement began to consume her. With efficient speed, Meira plucked at the laces on her boots, loosened them enough that she could slip her feet out, and left them sitting in the walkway. With any luck he’d trip over them and that would give her more time.
“Do run quickly,” his voice was a terrifying song as he called after her, “I won’t wait patiently here for long.”
Without her boots, it was easier to soften her steps over the hardwood floors. Even still, the shift of her weight caused boards to creak and groan under her. She chronicled the board's location inside her mind and kept moving, darting behind the door of the kitchen. They hadn’t lit any lanterns and the room was pitch black as soon she closed the door behind her.
Her eyes adjusted quickly, though she kept her hands out in front of her to feel her way around the wooden table at the center of the room. She crouched beside a large pot stored under the tabletop. All she could hear was the rush of blood through her veins and the loud uneven staggering of her breath.
An ounce of fear that blossomed within her made the excitement that much more vicious. Run and don't get caught. She’d played at this since the day she’d left her small town behind but never had there been a promise of such sinful pleasure.
A steady thump of Remis’ steps began. He didn’t run to chase after her as she’d sprinted away to hide. He walked with the cool confidence of someone who knew they’d have the upper hand. The challenge made her insides turn molten.
Something tumbled. The kick of one of her boots. Then a dark chuckle.
“Are you trying to set a trap for me?” Remis hardly sounded like himself anymore. This was not the light-hearted man who poked fun at her and tried to charm his way out of this cursed arrangement. This was a hunter. He clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Naughty little thing.”
Those same floorboards creaked. Her entire body tensed. The sound of his steps growing distant. Finally, she exhaled the breath she’d been holding.
The kitchen door opened. His wide frame filled the doorway. A dim light came from the fire still lit in the sitting room and cast his shadow across the space. He inhaled deeply. Growled into the darkness. Her toes curled against the floor.
“Do you know you have a certain sort of smell? Sweet like jasmine. I can’t get enough of it,” he said.
She didn’t move. Didn’t dare take her next breath.
He took another step into the room. The door snicked shut. Together they were plunged into darkness. If she stayed still, he could mistake her as part of the table, or he could walk right past her. Now there were no creaking boards to announce his nearness. His steps had gone utterly silent.
Meira closed her eyes. Tried to feel the movement of air around her, the whisper of clothes even as he moved. There was nothing.
Large hands grabbed at her waist, narrowly missing her injury. Fingers curled roughly, grabbing at her with bruising intensity. She sent her elbow into his gut. Air punched from his lungs and tickled at the back of her neck. His grip loosened enough for her to squirm out of his hold.
She shot up and ran for the dining room, but a weight pulled at her cloak. The ties cut off her breath, but only for a second before she undid the strings and let the material fall behind her onto the floor. Brass, still mildly warm from Remis’ touch, met her palm. She turned the knob and thrust herself out into the dining room.
The door didn’t even fully close before Remis threw it open. By then, Meira had put the dining table between them. His eyes landed on her and ate her up like he was a man starving for her image. She gripped a chair as her knees threatened to go weak from the intensity.
He was grinning again. In the flickering light of the fire, he was every bit the monster that came to claim his prize. Stalking forward, he circled the table. She moved at the same pace to keep the space between them.
He stopped. She stopped. The fire’s warmth, now at her back, aligned with her spine. Perspiration dampened the curls at the back of her neck.
With both palms flattened against the wood, Remis leaned forward. “You’ll have to be faster.” Then he climbed onto the damn table. His boots were a stomping force as he ran across and leapt to the floor in front of Meira.
She’d barely been able to pull herself out of her own surprise before he’d made it over the table and she bolted for the sitting room. A near bone-shattering grip took hold of her arm but his fingers didn’t quite get around her bicep, yet the touch had done enough to have her tripping forward. Though she tried to right herself quickly, Remis grabbed her ankle and yanked her backward.
Dirt, dust, and possibly a few splinters gathered under her nails as she clawed at the wood, trying to gather some momentum. His weight was already climbing up her, dragging her underneath him. She knew she could toss him off, should she truly want to, but she was the prey here. Like a good little rabbit, she was practically limp under his arms.
The width of his hands traveled up her thighs and the swell of her ass, before he grabbed her arms and pinned them at her side. Evidence of his want was stiff against her backside, long and hard. He leaned down, his mouth lightly touching the shell of her ear. “You have no idea how much I’ve dreamed of having you underneath me.”
His tongue traced along her ear and then dipped down onto her neck. Teeth scraped against her and she had to swallow a moan. Meira struggled against his strength, torn between getting away again and letting him learn her in the desperate way they both currently wanted. His mouth clamped down around her neck, teeth digging into her flesh. Meira gasped as he kissed the bite mark he’d undoubtedly made.
Remis made it look easy as he turned her underneath him. Surprise parted her mouth as he’d actually beaten her to her next move and had taken both her wrists in his hands, pinning them over her head. She bucked underneath him, but he held firm. From here she could see his length pressing angrily against his trousers. Her fingers itched to touch and release him from the fabric.
With one hand, he lifted the hem of her shirt and pulled the material up until the strip of fabric across her chest was revealed. He growled and dropped her arms quick enough to tug her shirt up and over her head. The leather had hardly even touched the ground before he had her arms pinned again and used his free hand to rip the material down to her waist to reveal her bare breasts.
Hot breath fanned across her peaked nipples before he sucked her into his mouth. Pleasure shot straight through her, her back arching up into him. If she was supposed to still be struggling and trying to get away, she was doing a terrible job. She was ready to lay herself down and let him take whatever he wanted from her.
Remis kissed his way up her chest, neck, jaw, and then finally stole a kiss from her lips. He nipped at her bottom lip, slid his tongue against hers, and mistakenly let go of her wrists.
She was free to touch him now and the feel of his flesh under her hands was all she could think about. Their kiss turned brutal, a frenzied gnashing of teeth and tongue. Meira ripped at his waistcoat and popped a button clean off before she was able to get the fabric off of him. He held his weight over her, let her work his shirt out of the waistband of his pants before that too was peeled away. She’d hardly gotten a look at him before he’d pressed himself upon her, skin to skin, and stole her breath as he wound a braid in one hand, pulled her head to the side, and sucked gently at her throat. Greedily, her hands roamed over his flesh. Her fingers explored the muscles of his arms, then his back, and down to his ass. By the dragons, she was burning up with need and all for him. Meira followed his waistband, made quick work of the laces, and palmed his erection.
He growled against her neck. “Slow down, I haven’t even gotten to taste you yet.”
