“Better to die in battle than beneath some dark prick who was weak enough to sell his soul to the demons walking within the darkness,” I hissed, bending down to retrieve the other blade while keeping him in front of me.
He watched me with a wicked look burning in his eyes. My cloak had fallen off, sliding from my shoulders to reveal the leather pants that curved around my muscular legs. The top I wore covered my chest, wrapping around my breasts, crisscrossing over my shoulders to wrap around my waist. It was lightweight and made to protect vital organs while not weighing me down.
The warrior didn’t move or strike out again, choosing to watch me instead. I frowned, going into a defensive pose while the sound of swords within the cottage went silent. My attention flicked toward it, and a line of worry creased my forehead. I started forward, and he bowed his head, cold wintery eyes watching me step toward him.
Before I’d reached him, he vanished, and I paused, peering around the empty street. Swallowing past the nervousness, I moved toward the silent house. Steel sang through the air, and I barely brought mine up in time to deflect a punishing blow. He was fast, and the spicy masculine scent he radiated was playing hell on the woman within me. I paused and took note, even though he was trying to kill me. Why was my magic not shielding me from his scent and masculinity? I should have been immune to the lure of men.
“You’re out-skilled, little girl,” he growled, his voice low, raspy, and surprisingly sexy.
Had he just told me I was out-skilled? I laughed, swinging my twin blades hard and fast until sparks filled the street. I swayed toward him, moving in quick precision, fighting to disarm him. The warrior perceived every move, easily deflecting every blow with his much larger weapon and strength.
“You’re tiring,” he growled.
I swung both blades, scissoring his before twisting my body in the air to use my full weight to take the sword by force. I landed, swinging my leg low, which took his legs out from beneath him before lifting my blades into the air. I intended to pierce them through his shoulders, but Amo’s groan sounded, and my eyes rose to see a sword held against her throat.
“Enough,” the male demanded, thrusting his leg out to send my body to the ground, hard.
I gasped for air, sitting up only for him to slam down against me, holding me to the ground as frost-colored eyes searched mine. He was ruggedly handsome, with clean teeth that caused my eyes to lower to his full, luscious mouth. Silently, we took each other in until he pushed his elbow against my throat and grabbed the rainbow-colored tendrils of my hair, bringing it up against his nose. Was he fucking sniffing me? Creep.
“I’m going to stand up, and you’re going to stand with me. If you fight, your team dies. Do you understand me?” His eyes held mine prisoner in their chilly depths. When my only reply was to nod, he chuckled coldly, “I want words, Little Bird.”
“I understand but know this; if you hurt my team, I will slaughter you and your men, and I’ll wear your fucking face with pride, asshole. Now, get your ogre-ass off of me.”
He didn’t release me, choosing to glare down at me until I became highly aware that he was aroused from fighting me. This man wasn’t just good-looking; he was gorgeously dark and delicious in all the right ways. High, sharp cheekbones were visible, with a five o’clock shadow that adorned his strong jawline. His body was covered in thick muscles, and one pressed hard against my stomach.
Gradually, he backed up, still staring down at me with curiosity burning in his eyes. He grabbed my hand, yanking me to my feet with a quick jerk. Men moved in around us, collecting my weapons while he towered over me.
“You’re now the prisoner of the Night King,” he announced.
My blood turned to ice in my veins. Lowering my attention to the armor he wore, I noted the colors of midnight-blue and black that covered it. On his chest, clasping the cloak onto his back, were silver chains and a coat of arms with dual swords and the moon set between them, pierced by both blades.
Slowly, my eyes drifted back up to lock on his with loathing. Their kingdom was filled with people rumored to have made deals with demons to be immune to the plague of darkness that slowly reached for more land each day. They also raided our lands, stealing food and women from the villages to fill their bellies and warm their beds.
“What the hell would your king want from us?” I asked coldly, tightening my hands into fists at my side.
“That’s between you and him. I’m just here to bring you to the Kingdom of Night.”
“No,” I stated, folding my arms over my chest, digging in my heels. “You’re not taking me to your king, asshole.”
“Oh, but I am. Either gagged, bound, unwillingly or willingly, you’re coming with me, Alexandria of the Moon Clan,” he warned.
Chapter Two
Glaring at the obstinate male, I studied how he issued orders to his men, fully in control. The house they’d hid in wait for us was emptied and cleared out on the main floor. His men escorted me inside while Amo and the girls watched, clucking their tongues. The meaning made a smile spread on my lips, and I nodded softly, which didn’t go unnoticed by the asshole who demanded I march forward.
Inside was clean, and while destroyed from the sword fight that had gone down, I didn’t smell the decay of rotten food or dead inhabitants. We moved up a staircase before he paused in front of a door and grunted to get my attention, holding his arm out toward the entrance. Narrowing my eyes on him, I slid my gaze to the soft glow within the room.
Scowling, I made a mental note that he held some magic if he’d lit the candles without having to achieve it manually. I stepped into the room, and my spine stiffened. On the bed were the hallowed husks of what looked like a family. Hot breath fanned my shoulder, and I moved forward cautiously, continuing to stare at the victims.
“Bloody hell,” he groaned, pushing his fingers through his hair, discovering what held my attention. He moved toward the bed, grabbing a blanket which he folded around them. He placed the family’s remains outside the door before reentering with a dark look burning in his stare. “Sit down.”
“No,” I argued, even though I was exhausted and my body ached everywhere. I didn’t take orders; I gave them.
He turned, lifting a dark brow, causing his eyes to sparkle with a silent threat. The warrior groaned, moving toward me slowly. He picked me up over his shoulder and discarded me in a large, winged back chair that sat before a cold, empty mantel. His lips moved as he sat in the seat opposite of me, and a fire magically started within the fireplace, crackling to life.
I watched him remove the armor from his legs and arms, and then his heavy boots. He then stood, doing away with the chest plate that had kept my blade from finding a home in his stomach. It hadn’t even looked like armor during battle, causing me to aim for his heart, yet what I’d thought were merely clothes was armor. Dick.
He didn’t stop there. He lifted his shirt off over his head before peering around the empty room. I took in the broad, muscular physique of his back. He was all smooth, powerful, and toned muscle that was just enough and wasn’t too much like some men had. The toned muscles of his back flexed as he reached for two glasses. He picked up a bottle of whiskey that sat beside the bed, turning to peek at my curious eyes. Once he’d balanced all three, he smiled darkly at me.