House of Targaryen

XVIII

The Hunt

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We arrived in a narrow alleyway, the horse slowly came to a stop with a soft snort. Daemon dismounted first, his hands once again finding my waist as he helped me down.

The alley was dark, lit only by the flickering light of a distant torch, I followed him closely as he led me to the back entrance of a tavern I didn't recognize.

After guiding me to a corner, Daemon's voice drew near "Wait here," he paused, his eyes skimmed over my form. "I'll have you in sight, but remember what I've given you."

Problems.

I nodded, following his gaze to the dagger hidden in my cloak. Though my mind joked, the situation was far from lighthearted. As Daemon disappeared into the tavern I took in my surroundings.

I was hidden away from the main street, tucked into the shadows like a secret. The air was heavy smoke and the low hum of whispered conversations. This wasn't the kind of place respectable people frequented-this was an alley filled with dark markets, a place where forbidden merchandise was exchanged easily alongside secrets.

As I stood alone, I caught sight of something—or other, someone—down a small, crooked street. My heart skipped a beat as I recognized the slender figure moving through the streets.

Aemond.

His long strides and authority were unmistakable. He was walking alone, his expression cold and distant, as if he were lost in thought. There was the man who had killed Lucerys, the man who had shattered my trust and my heart. But despite the anger and the hurt, there was still a part of me that longed for things to be different—that wished I could go back to before all of this had happened.

I bit into my lip, drawing blood and forcing myself to stay where I was. There was nothing to be gained from confronting him now, nothing that would undo the damage he had done.

When Daemon returned, his expression was unreadable. He gave me a curt nod, and we left the tavern without a word, making our way back to the inn where we were staying.

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Daemon walked ahead of me, his broad frame casting long shadows on the walls. I stood by the door, my hand resting on the worn wood, feeling the tension simmer in my chest.

I hadn't said much since we left, his shameless touches over the course of a few days weighed heavily on me. My thoughts were churning, a storm of emotions that I couldn't seem to silence.

I watched him sit down at the edge of the bed, his boots hitting the floor with a dull thud as he removed them. I watched him in silence, the candlelight highlighting the sharp angles of his face, the strong lines of his jaw, and the cool detachment he wore like armor. But I could feel the heat beneath his calm demeanor. It was intently there, simmering, waiting to rise to the surface.

"You've spoken little," Daemon finally said, his voice low but clear in the stillness of the room.

He didn't look at me, but I felt his words settle into the space between us, stirring up the emotions I'd been trying to push down.

I crossed my arms over my chest, leaning back against the door. "I've been lost in thoughts."

He chuckled faintly, the sound escaping as a low rumble in the back of his throat.

"When are you not," he replied, a hint of mockery threading in his words. He finally looked at me, his gaze sharp and piercing, taking notice of the way my body screamed defensiveness. "What is it this time?"

I frowned, biting back the words I wanted to say—the accusations that had been burning on the tip of my tongue for hours. Instead, I sighed, pushing myself off the door and walking past him. "Unimportant."

His hand came to grasp my arm, "Do not..." he paused, the faintest hint of forewarning tugging at the corner of his mouth. ".. dismiss me."

I let out a frustrated breath. "I should have months ago... this game you're playing with me. All of the truth that you keep locked away." My words caught in my throat, and I hated that they did.

Daemon stood, closing the space between us for a moment. His breath fanned down over my face, "If you're accusing me of some depravity you'll need to be more specific."

His presence was overwhelming, as always, but I didn't wither away. "I know Laena is with child."

Daemon's eyes darkened, and his hand came up to cup my chin, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip. His touch was gentle, but there was a tension in him, a restraint that I wasn't used to seeing."...And?"

I pulled away from his touch, feeling the shock of his words cut deep. "And? You break your vows every time you lust after me— every time you look at me in that way—"

"Duty does not change desire," he spoke quietly, "..does not change passion. I've always wanted you, you've known that." his words drew close to my lips, his hand once again trailing my jaw.

Upset billowed through me, his lips so close to mine but his words so far from righteousness.
"I will not be your mistress." I breathed, turning my face from his hold. "You could have claimed me, all those years—you had time to."

Daemon started, his eyes following mine. "You were a child, Lenora. Don't be—"

"Now it's run out." I interrupted, burying the familiar sting behind my eyes.

Silence fell between us and for a moment I thought I saw what I believed to be hurt in his lilac eyes. He sighed and sat back down on the end of the bed, his gaze voiding mine.

Daemon's voice continued, sharper than before, "I spared you, gave you a chance to marry, to forget, and grow into a woman without my influence." he turned his head, swallowing his next words. "It was what Viserys and I agreed upon."

The mention of my father's name seized my attention. As I took in his words I realized I couldn't handle any more revelations.
"Daemon," I spoke dismissively, shaking his words away. 

Just as I began to turn away, his hands reached for mine. His grip was firm, his gaze intent. He drew me closer to him, his thumb tracing circles over my wrist, a silent petition for my attention.

Daemon's voice softened, but the intensity in his gaze remained. He stepped closer, "If there was a way," he began, his words deliberate, "a way for me to be free of Laena... to be free of it all—would you have it?"

I felt my breath catch, his hands tightening around mine as if he could anchor me to the decision he was asking me to make. His eyes searched mine, waiting for an answer I wasn't sure I could give.

"What do you desire?" he whispered, his warm lips trailing against my neck.

I reached for the handle behind me, creaking open the washroom's door. In response, Daemon turned me, his slender hand tracing down my clothed spine. His hands toyed with the laces of my gown as his lips crashed mercilessly against mine.

His voice vibrated against my skin, low and guttural. "Tell me."

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Author's Note; Mature warning for the next chapter.. I'm also happy to announce a sequel for this book when the next season of HOD is released. Thank you for reading <3