I didn’t understand the inherent sense that alerted me to the fact that I wasn’t alone, but I knew to trust it.
Remaining crouched in the water, I scanned the dark banks around me and then quickly looked over my shoulder. I saw nothing, but that didn’t mean someone wasn’t there. The moonlight didn’t penetrate the deeper shadows clinging to large swaths of the shore and farther back among the trees to the cliffs.
No one ever came here, but the feeling continued, pressing against my bare shoulders. I knew it wasn’t my imagination. Someone was here, watching me, but for how long? The last couple of minutes? Or from the moment I undressed and slowly walked into the lake, naked as the day I was born? Anger flooded my system so fiercely, I was surprised the water didn’t start to boil around me.
Someone, getting over their fear of the woods, must have followed me.
That same instinct warned me that wasn’t a good sign.
Muscles tensed as I called out, “I know you’re there. Show yourself.”
The only answer I received was the rush of water. I heard no night birds singing to one another nor the constant low hum of insects. I hadn’t since I entered the woods. A chill swept over me as my throat tightened. “Show yourself now!”
Silence.
My gaze skipped over the waterfall and snapped back to the sheet of falling water, turned white in the drenching moonlight. There was a deeper shadow behind the waterfall, a thickness that didn’t seem right.
And that tall shape was moving forward, coming through the fall of water. My stomach dipped like it did when I goaded a horse into running too fast.
A moment later, a deep and smooth voice came from within the waterfall. “Since you asked so nicely.”
That voice…
The shape became far too clear in the moonlight. Broad shoulders shattered the water, and then I saw him as he stepped out into the pool of moonlight.
I stopped breathing. My heart may have stopped beating. The god.
Nothing about him seemed real. He stood there with the water pounding off the rocks behind him. More tiny bumps spread across my flesh as I stared at him in shock.
“Here I am,” he said. “Now, what?”
His question yanked me out of my stunned silence. “What are you doing here?”
Water stirred around him when he broke the surface and slicked back his hair, the spray lapping at the defined lines of his chest. I snapped my gaze to his face. He appeared to be studying me. “What does it look like?”
His blasé answer struck that reckless part of me. It didn’t matter that the pretend kiss in the vine tunnels had become very real, or that he hadn’t struck out at me when I stabbed him in the chest—something most would be furious about—or end up dead over. It didn’t matter that he was a powerful god that had continuously crept into my thoughts since I’d last seen him. He had been watching me when I’d been at my most vulnerable. “It looks like you shouldn’t be here.”
His head tilted slightly, and a lock of dark hair slipped over the hard line of his jaw. “And why would I not be allowed to?”
“Because it’s private property.” Why did I feel like we’d already established this?
“Is it?” Amusement crept into his tone. “I was unaware of any land prohibited to a god.”
“I imagine that there are many areas that would be off-limits to anyone, including a god.”
“What if I told you there aren’t?”
My stomach dipped. “I would be thoroughly irritated to learn that.” A low chuckle rumbled from him. “So fearless.”
Common sense indicated that I should be experiencing some level of fear, but all I felt was anger. “None of that answers what you’re doing here.”
“I suppose it doesn’t.” He lifted an arm again, the one with the silver band, to brush back another strand of hair that had slipped against his jaw.
“I was around, and since it was extremely warm, I thought I’d take a swim and cool off.”
Anger crowded out any tendrils of fear and potential wisdom. “And prey upon young women?”
“Prey upon young women?” There was a hint of incredulity in his tone. “What young women have I preyed upon this eve?”
“The one who is standing before you.”
“The one who is naked, standing before me?”
“Thank you for the unnecessary reminder. But, yes, the one you followed to the lake.”
“Followed?”
“Is there an echo here?” I demanded. “I’m sorry—”
“You don’t sound sorry,” I snapped.
There was a soft, barely audible chuckle. “Let me rephrase. I don’t know how I followed you to this lake to prey upon you when I was here first. Trust me—”
“Not going to happen.”
A cloud slipped over the moon as his chin dropped again, casting his face in shadows. “Trust me when I say I was not expecting you to be here.”
In the back of my mind, where reason still existed, I knew he spoke the truth. I hadn’t been under the water long enough for even a god to undress, then enter the lake and the waterfall without me noticing. He must have been here first. But, frankly, I didn’t care.
This was my lake.
“I was minding my own business,” he said. “Taking a few moments to enjoy this beautiful night.”
“In a lake you do not belong in,” I muttered, not caring if no place was truly off-limits to a god.
“I swam underwater and ended up beyond the waterfall. It’s quite beautiful there, by the way,” he continued unrepentantly. “Can you, for one moment, imagine my surprise when a few seconds later, a young, very demanding mortal appeared out of the darkness and started removing her clothing? What was I supposed to do?”
Fire swept across my face. “Not watch me?”
“I wasn’t.” A pause. “At least, not intentionally.”
“Not intentionally?” I repeated in disbelief. “As if that makes it less inappropriate.”
That half-grin appeared again. “You do have a point there, but as it was unintentional, I would wager to say it is far less inappropriate than it would have been if it had been intentional.”
“No.” I shook my head. “No, it is not.”
“Anyway,” he stressed the word with such a highbrow air, my mother would’ve been impressed. “I was quite shocked, as this was not what I had been expecting.”
“Shocked or not, you could’ve announced yourself.” I couldn’t believe I had to explain this. “I don’t know what would be expected in Iliseeum, but here, that would’ve been the polite, less inappropriate thing to do.”
“True, but it all happened very fast. From the point of your arrival and, sadly, brief reveal of many, many unmentionable places, to when you decided to enjoy the lake. It was only a matter of seconds,” he said. “But I’m glad we’re now in agreement over my actions being less inappropriate. I will sleep better tonight.”
“What? We are not in agreement. I—” Wait. Sadly brief reveal of unmentionable places? My eyes narrowed. “You still could’ve said something so I wasn’t just standing there—”
“Like a goddess made of silver and moonbeams, rising from the depths of the darkest lake?” he finished.
I snapped my mouth shut. Like a…a goddess? Made of silver and moonbeams? That sounded incredibly… I didn’t even know what that sounded like or why my stomach was whooshing again. What he said was ridiculous because he knew actual goddesses.
“I considered announcing my presence just so you knew, especially after last night. The Fates know I don’t want to be stabbed again.”
I so wanted to stab him again.
“But then I thought it would only lead to unnecessary embarrassment for all involved,” he went on, snapping me out of my momentary stupor. “I figured you would be on your way, none the wiser, and this awkward— albeit very interesting—meeting never had to occur. I didn’t think you would realize I was here.”
“No matter what your intentions were, you should’ve said something.” I started to stand straight and then remembered that wasn’t the wisest idea. “I mean no offense in what I’m about to say—”
“I’m sure you mean absolutely no offense,” he purred. “Just like you meant no offense when you stabbed me.”
I ignored the rumble of his voice and the reminder of what I’d done. “But you should leave.”
“There you go, being so very demanding. Meanwhile, you ignore what I’ve demanded of you.” His head tilted back, and a slice of moonlight kissed one cheek. “It’s very different.”
My pulse skittered. “What? A mortal who doesn’t cower before you or beg for a favor?”
“Some beg for quite a bit more than a favor.” His voice was like smoke, a shadowy caress. And that voice…it stoked that same odd feeling of warmth and familiarity. “But you’re not the type to cower. I doubt you’re the type to beg.”
“I’m not,” I told him. “That’s a shame.”
“Maybe for you.”
“Maybe,” he agreed and then drifted forward. “What are you doing?” I demanded, tensing.
He stopped, close enough for me to see an arched brow. “If I’m to leave as you so kindly demanded, I will have to walk forward.”
My jaw was beginning to hurt from how tightly I held it. “You can’t leave from any of the other banks?”
“I’m afraid that the lake is far too deep in those areas for that. And there is the issue of a cliff to one side.”
I stared at him. “You’re a god. Can’t you do something…godly?” I sputtered. “Like will yourself from the lake?”
“Will myself from a lake?” he repeated slowly, the half-grin making another appearance. “That’s not how that works.” The moon eased free of the clouds, bathing him once more in pearlescent light. “Should I stay, or should I go?”
I glared at him. “Go.”
“As you wish, my lady.” He bowed his head slightly and then proceeded forward.
I watched him closely. The water dipped below his chest, revealing the ridges of the lean muscles of his stomach. I knew I should look away. Continuing to stare there meant I was being equally inappropriate. But his body was…it was very interesting, and I was curious because, well…
I didn’t have a good, appropriate reason for looking.
I knew how strong he was, so the fact that his body represented his strength came as no surprise. Despite the coolness of the water, the warmth in my skin steadily spread as those…thick lines on the insides of his hips became visible, a deep black that followed the indentations there, traveling down and over toward his—
“Oh, my gods!” I shrieked. “Stop!”
He halted a mere breath from the water revealing far, far too much. “Yes?” he inquired.
“You’re naked,” I informed him.
A heartbeat of silence passed. “Are you now just realizing that?” “No!”
“Then you have to realize I will continue to be naked until I retrieve the clothing you apparently didn’t notice in your haste to undress.”
The breath I inhaled scorched my lungs.
“If it makes you uncomfortable, I suggest closing your eyes or keeping them off my unmentionables.” He paused. “Unless you would like for me to stay?”
“I don’t want you to stay.” “Why do I think that’s a lie?” “It’s not.”
“That’s another lie.”
I twitched at the near-decadent drawl of his tone and managed to keep my eyes on his face as he proceeded forward. Kind of. My gaze dropped again, but to those strange black lines. He was close enough that I could see that they did indeed creep along the side of his body. But they weren’t solid. Instead, some smaller marks or shapes followed the pattern of a line. Did they continue onto his back? Curiosity blazed through me now. What were the shapes?
Don’t ask. Keep your mouth closed. Don’t ask. Don’t—
“Is that ink?” I blurted out, hating myself for asking and for continuing to speak. “The kind needled into the skin?”
He stopped. “It is…something like that.”
I didn’t know if gods and Primals had a different process when it came to tattoos. “Did it hurt?”
“Only till it didn’t,” he replied, and my gaze lifted. There was a slight curve to his lips—just the faintest of smiles. But like before, it had a
startling effect, warming the coldness of his features. “You’re familiar with tattoos?”
I nodded. “I’ve seen them on some of the sailors. Mostly on their backs and arms.”
Another lock of hair slipped forward over his cheek this time. “You’ve seen the bare backs of many sailors?”
Not that many, but that was none of his business. “So what if I have?” “So what, indeed?” The faint smile remained. “It just makes all of this
far more…interesting.”
I tensed to the point it almost became painful. “I don’t see how.” “I could explain,” he offered.
“Not necessary.” “You sure?”
“Yes.”
“I have time.”
“I don’t. Just go,” I repeated, my frustration with him, the day, and with the fact that he was here in my lake, and that this place would never be the same again, rising to the surface. “But do not come any closer to me. If you do, you will not like what happens.”
The god became very still then, so much so that I wasn’t sure if he even breathed. And the water… I swore the water around him stopped its lazy rippling. My heartbeat stuttered.
“I won’t?” he queried softly.
Tiny hairs began to rise all over my body. “No.”
“What will you do, my lady?” Moonlight kissed the apple of his cheekbone as he tilted his head once more. “You have no shadowstone dagger to threaten me with.”
“I don’t need a dagger,” I said, my voice thready. “And I’m not a lady.”
His head straightened. “No, I imagine not, considering you’re nude in a lake with an unfamiliar man, whose lip you bit upon meeting, and have seen the bare backs of many sailors. I was only being polite.”
My lip curled at the presumed insult. I knew I should let it go. Keep my mouth shut, but I didn’t. I hadn’t in three years, and my inability to do so had grown and festered into an incurable disease. The kind that provoked further, dangerous recklessness. “What I am is a Princess who is nude in a lake with an unfamiliar man and has seen the bare backs of men,” I told him, speaking the forbidden. “And you, with each passing moment, are
getting closer to no longer having the ability to see anyone’s unmentionable places ever again.”
For a long moment, he stared at me, his features unreadable. My heart began to pound with trepidation—
The god laughed. Tipped his head back and actually laughed, long and deep. And his laugh was…well, it was a nice sound. Deep and husky.
It was also highly infuriating.
“I’m not sure what you find so funny,” I bit out. “You,” he answered between laughs.
“Me?”
“Yes.” He lowered his head, his stare piercing even though I couldn’t see his eyes. “You amuse me.”
If there were some kind of switch deep inside me that controlled my anger and impulses, he’d found it with unerring accuracy over and over.
And then repeatedly flipped it each time I crossed paths when him.
I was a lot of things, but I was not the source of anyone’s amusement.
Not even a god’s.
Fury pulsing through my blood, I rose to my full height. “I doubt you will find me so amusing when you’re gasping for the last of your breaths.”
He became still again, and…good gods, the water coursing down his chest froze. The droplets ceased.
“I’m already gasping,” he whispered, his voice rougher, deeper.
Confusion rippled along the flood of rage. Did he have some sort of breathing ailment? Could gods have health issues? If so, I doubted these cold waters would be good for his lungs. Not that I remotely cared for the condition of his lungs. Nor did I even know why I was wondering about their condition.
A warm breeze lifted the strands of my wet hair and slipped over the chilled skin of my bare shoulders and my…
Oh.
The water only reached my waist here.
“In case you’re wondering,”—his voice was a kiss against my skin
—“this is me intentionally staring.”
I started to lower, seeking the shield of the water, but I stopped myself. I would not shrink or cower to anyone or anything. “Pervert.”
“Guilty.”
“Keep staring,” I growled. “And I will claw out those eyes with my fingers if need be.”
He barked out another short laugh, this one tinged with surprise. “Still no fear, Your Grace?”
I bristled at the way he used the Royal title as if it were something silly and irrelevant. All the more frustrating was the fact that he was perhaps the first person to ever refer to me as such.
“I’m still not afraid of you,” I replied, briefly glancing down. There was only a minor bit of relief when I saw several pale strands of hair plastered to my chest. They didn’t hide nearly enough, but it was better than nothing.
“Well, I’m a little afraid of you,” he said, and he was somehow closer without seeming to have moved. He wasn’t even a foot from me now, and an icy heat radiated from him, pressing against my flesh. His closeness heightened the sensitivity of every inch of skin. “You want to claw my eyes out.”
Hearing him say what I’d threatened sounded ridiculous. “You and I both know it would be impossible for me to claw your eyes out.”
“And yet, based on my limited interactions with you, I know you’d try, even when you know you’d fail.”
I couldn’t exactly argue against that. “Well, if you’re that concerned about the possibility of me attempting to do that, you should be careful of where your eyes wander.”
“I’m being extra-careful as incredibly hard as that is, given the… abundant allure of being less careful.”
“I’m sure you say that to all the ladies you accost.”
“Only the ones I would be tempted to allow to try and claw my eyes out.”
“That…that makes no sense.” Drawing in a too-short breath, I stepped back through the water, folding an arm over my chest.
He watched me, but his stare was nothing like Nor’s. There was curiosity there. “It’s amazing to witness.”
“What is?”
“These moments when you suddenly remember what I am. Is this another attempt to use common sense?”
I lifted my chin a notch. “Unfortunately.” “Is it not going well again?”
“Not exactly.”
He chuckled, and the sound…well, it was as nice as his laugh. I wished it weren’t because it made me want to hear it again, and that seemed like a silly need. “Why do you think you need to remain quiet now?”
I spared a glance at the shore. “I’m likely to say something that would make you forget that one decent bone in your body.”
He drew his lower lip between his teeth, and for some inane reason, my full attention was drawn to that. “I don’t think that’s the kind of mood you have to worry about putting me in.”
“What kind of—?” I cut myself off as what he said sank in. There was a sharp curl low in my stomach that I didn’t like at all—for a multitude of reasons.
“I know. That was…inappropriate of me.”
“Very,” I muttered, thinking my response was just as inappropriate, all things considered.
“You’re unexpectedly outspoken.”
“I’m not sure how you can be expectant of anything as we don’t really know each other.”
“I think I know enough,” he responded.
“I don’t even know your name,” I pointed out. “Some call me Ash.”
“Ash?” I repeated, and he nodded. Something about that was familiar. “Is it short for something?”
“It is short for many things.” His head suddenly snapped toward the shore. A moment passed. “By the way, I would think you would’ve learned from our last interaction. I don’t make a habit of punishing mortals for speaking their minds.” He shot a glance in my direction. “Mostly.”
Threatening to claw out his eyes and actually stabbing him in the chest weren’t examples of speaking my mind, but I wisely didn’t share that thought.
“And I didn’t accost you. I may be a lot of things…” He strode forward with the warning. “But I am not that.”
I opened my mouth, but all words left me when he neared the shallower end of the lake. I stared. Gods help me, I couldn’t take my eyes away from him as he climbed the earthen steps to the shore. It wasn’t his rear that snagged my attention. Though I did see that. I shouldn’t have, and I should’ve turned away right then because that made me a hypocrite of the highest order—being inappropriate went both ways. But I didn’t. What I did
see of his ass was…well, it was as well-formed as everything else I shouldn’t have seen.
But it was the ink sprawling across the entire length of his back from the upper swells of his rear all the way to the edges of his hair that I couldn’t look away from. In the center of his back was a circular, twisted swirl that grew larger, lashing out to form the thick tendrils I’d seen reaching around his waist to flow along the insides of his hips. There wasn’t nearly enough light for me to make out what made up the swirling design, but I had never seen any sailor with a tattoo like his. Again, my curiosity stirred. “What kind of tattoo is that?”
“One that is inked into the skin.” He started to turn toward me, and I quickly averted my eyes. “You should get dressed. I won’t look. I promise.” I peeked at him, finding that he’d turned away from the lake and held what appeared to be a pair of black breeches that I truly had not seen upon my arrival. My gaze shot to my pile of clothing. I couldn’t stand here
forever and question him.
I charged through the water, my eyes trained on his shoulders as he bent. Reaching the damp shore, I grabbed my slip and pulled it over my head. It only reached an inch or two past my thighs, but it was the quickest option, and the last thing I wanted to do was force my breasts into the bodice of the damn gown in front of him.
I picked up my sheathed blade—
“I do hope you aren’t planning something foolish with that blade.”
I turned to him, my irritation spiking when I saw that he still had his back to me. Obviously, he wasn’t worried at all about what I would do with it.
“I haven’t been the one issuing threats, so I would hope not.” He faced me then, a smirk fixed on those well-formed lips. He stood there, the flap of his breeches undone, still wearing no shirt. I was positive he could’ve finished dressing. His fingers made quick work of the flap of his breeches. “You should unsheathe that blade.”
My brows lifted at the unexpected request. “Do you want me to use this one on you, too?”
He laughed again. “Are you always this violent?” “No.”
“I’m not sure I believe that. But, no, I do not want you to use it on me,” he replied. “We’re not alone.”
Leafy branches rattled, shook by a sudden burst of high wind. I tightened my grip on the dagger as I looked up. The limbs had stilled, but there was a sound, a low moan that came from deep within the woods.
Ash bent once more, retrieving a scabbard. Gripping the silver hilt, he withdrew the short sword I’d seen him use before.
Seeing it reminded me of what I’d thought when he first used it. “Why do you carry a sword?”
He looked over at me. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“You’re a god. Do you really need a sword?”
Ash studied me. “There are all sorts of things I can do and try,” he said, his tone and the intensity in his gaze making my skin flush even warmer. “Things I’m certain you’d find just as intriguing as I find your bravery.”
I drew in a shaky breath, his words making me think of those damn books in the Atheneum—the illustrated ones.
“But just because I can do something doesn’t mean I should,” he added, snapping me out of my wayward thoughts.
My eyes shifted to the shadowy tree line and then back to him. A god with limitations? Interesting.
“We’re about to have company,” he said, and I blinked. “Though I doubt they’ll be nearly as entertaining as I’m sure you find me.”
“I don’t find you entertaining,” I muttered, though it was a foolish lie the god didn’t even bother disputing. Who wouldn’t be intrigued by a god or Primal, even one as irritating as him? “These woods are haunted. What we heard could just be spirits.”
“You sure about that?”
“Yes. They like to moan and make all manner of obnoxious noises.” I sent him a frown. “Shouldn’t you know that, being that you’re from the Shadowlands?”
Ash stared into the woods. “These are not spirits.”
“No one enters these woods,” I reasoned. “It has to be a spirit.” “I entered these woods,” he pointed out.
“But you’re a god.”
“And what makes you think that what is coming is of your mortal realm?”
I halted, my stomach hollowing.
“I have a question for you. Are your spirits flesh and bone? The ones that haunt these woods?”
My gaze flicked up. All I saw was the darkness among the elms. “No.” I turned to him. “Of course, not.”
Ash lifted the sword, pointing the blade toward the trees. “Then what would you call these things?”
“What things?” I leaned forward, squinting. There were only shadows, but then I saw something drifting out of the darkness between the elms, a figure cloaked in black. A nightmare.
