Nightmaster

Ares continued on without looking back. “I chose not to.”

“What about the others?” she asked, changing subjects so quickly that it took him a moment to realize she was referring to the remaining serfs.

“They will all be claimed,” he said, slowing his pace. “You are said to be a female of some intelligence. Were you unaware of what would happen to every human in your party when you arrived in Erebus?”

“I was aware,” she said. “But Palemon...”

Ares stopped and turned to face her. “Palemon will be in no condition to claim any serf today.”

Her shoulders slumped in relief. Ares knew she had been deeply worried about her fellow Homo sapiens, afraid they would fall to a cruel master as she almost had.

“Why do you care?” he asked. “Did you know these humans before you were sent here?”

“No,” she said. “But maybe that’s something you wouldn’t understand.”

“Perhaps I wish to learn.”

She blinked, clearly surprised. “You wish to—”

“What is your name?” he asked.

“Trinity,” she said in a husky voice. “I know you can change my name if you want to. But I’m hoping you’ll let me keep one thing that still belongs to me.”

“You very nearly lost your life,” he said, absurdly angry when he had no cause to be. “You interfered in a Challenge.”

“I thought you were about to lose.”

“I would not have lost.”

“It looked bad to me,” she said. “I knew what Palemon would do to me if you didn’t win.”

That was exactly the motive Ares had expected. “You made a grave error,” he said, holding fast to his temper. He turned away again. “Come.”

Her hand darted out to touch his arm. An instant later he had her by the throat. She dropped her hand from his sleeve and coughed, but her gaze never left his.

“There is something you must understand,” he said, releasing her almost instantly. “You saw what happened during the Claiming when I touched Palemon. No serf touches an Opir unless she is commanded to do so.”

“Commanded?” she whispered, rubbing her throat. “Is that what you plan to do to me?”

“No,” he said. “That is not how I handle my humans.”

“You mean by the throat, or are there other ways?”

It was hardly possible for an Opir to feel shame over the treatment of a serf, but Ares knew he had behaved no better than Palemon by giving way to his instinctive rage at her unexpected touch. He had hurt her, though he should never have expected her to fully grasp the taboo against unwanted physical contact when humans were so drawn, even compelled, to initiate it.

And her touch had done more than enrage him. It had aroused him to such an extent that he would gladly have dragged her into one of the private rooms off the lobby and taken her then and there.

He would not fall prey to such primitive urges again.

“Are you in pain?” he asked more gently. “Do you require medical assistance?”

She touched her throat again. “I know you could have broken my neck. But you didn’t. I don’t think you plan to kill me anytime soon.”

Ares couldn’t help but admire the courage that allowed her to behave with such composure when she had twice come so close to death. He pulled her hand away from her throat and bent close to examine her skin. The marks were nearly gone, but her pulse still beat very fast in the hollow of her neck.

She did not need healing. But still he felt...

Regret. That was the proper word. Regret for touching her in anger, for marking that delicate flesh. And there was a small, hard knot in his stomach, like the grain of sand that becomes a pearl within an oyster’s mantle.

His gaze fell to her parted lips and the small cut where Palemon had struck her. The soft, pink skin still held a trace of blood.

He glanced down at her chest, rising and falling with each harsh breath, her erect nipples pushing against the shift’s thin material. He stiffened, imagining those breasts in his hands, those sweet, rosy nipples in his mouth.

Then he remembered the vow he had made to himself. He would not take her in any way, body or blood; she must come to him of her own will. She was an intellectual puzzle to be solved, her bewitching essence a challenge to his self-control. A challenge he intended to win.

“You must understand,” he said, “for your own safety. You are my property. Step outside of the boundaries set for a serf when we are in public, and you must suffer for it.”

“Because of your pride?” she asked.

“Pride, as humans understand it, is not a factor.”

“Of course. It’s because you have to maintain the respect of those who would be happy to take you down.”

“You understand our culture, then.”

“I’ve studied it,” she said. “But I still don’t understand it.”

“Perhaps you will come to, in time.”

She gazed into his eyes. “I’m a little confused,” she said. “Why did you claim me, if you’re not going to use me the way most of your kind use humans?”

“Your spirit intrigued me. You speak our language well, and I have some interest in the human perspective. Perhaps you can provide me with a new one.”

She looked at him as if he were mad. “Will Palemon Challenge you again?” she asked.

“Perhaps. But that will not be your concern.”

She rubbed her arms as if she were cold, though nearly all of Erebus was kept warmer than most of her kind preferred. “I know I have no rights,” she said. “I know you can kill me on a whim and no one will care. But I am...glad you won me. And not just because you saved me from him.”

Ares wondered if she was confessing to some kind of attraction. It seemed very sudden, but then so was his lust for her. Perhaps, in a way, her admission allowed her to keep some dignity, some small control over her situation, even though she would never again set foot outside the Citadel.

Yet her eyes were half-closed, her lips parted, her face flushed as if with desire. The unmistakable scent of sexual arousal rose from her body.

Ares grabbed her by the shoulders, lifted her face and kissed her. His teeth grazed her lower lip, giving him the smallest taste of her sweet blood. She struggled for a moment and then went limp in his hold, her eyes losing all expression.

Disgusted again at his own behavior, Ares altered the composition of his saliva and took her lower lip into his mouth. The bleeding stopped instantly. Soon there would be no trace at all of what he had done.

Not on her body. But frightening her, making her believe he would use her whenever he liked, was not at all what he wished.