Wrought of Iron and Silk, Book One [2014 Watty Award Winner]

Chapter 20 - Faragard

Chapter 20 – Faragard

Cecilia's emotional state caused her to not be very lithe on her feet, and they scraped with each step she took toward Asher's furs. If he was to wake before she wanted him to, there was a chance that matters could turn for the worse much sooner than she planned. Carefully, she crept toward him at a slow, methodical pace, attempting to capture the solitary silhouette sitting in the clearing.

She reached for the knife that she had tied to her belt. The anticipation caused her to sweat, but she paid little attention to it. As she neared him with each step, she clenched the knife tighter; her eyes glued to his body sitting before her. Her breath came in warm and short as it singed his skin when she leaned closer, placing a hand in the furs beside his body.

"Open your eyes, savage!" she hissed, holding a knife to his throat.

Without shifting position, Asher's eyes opened in narrow slits. The knife was before him without warning, but his face remained impassive as he raised one eyebrow and glanced down at the blade. He clenched his jaw as she pushed him back to the ground, swung one leg across his belly and straddled him.

Cecilia traced the curve of his neck with the tip of the blade, breathing hoarsely.

"Looking for something, Raven?" he asked softly, his hazel eyes stood still in their sockets, staring at her in shock. There was an intensity in them that reminded her of a hidden memory, masked by the tendrils of the past.

"Tell me," she said, and placed the knife back under his chin. "Who sent you?"

Asher simply stared; his gaze dipped to her breasts which, plump and daring, were nearly tumbling over the gap in the shirt she insisted on wearing to sleep, and then back to her face, studying her features.

Cecilia held out her forearm. "If you claim to not be my enemy, then why did you do this to me?" she demanded. "Answer me!"

Asher did not answer, but instead shifted so as to get more comfortable under her weight. "You like to be on top, don't you?" he asked, ignoring her questions.

She flinched, her hand was unsteady and trembling although fury twisted her face and her eyes firmly latched on his. "If you're trying to bait me, it won't work."

The elf seemed to consider this and remained silent. The silence grew and stretched before them, lingering thickly in the air as Cecilia searched his eyes for any emotion she could use.

"You're willful, I'll give you that. But mark my words, I will kill you." She dug the blade in and he flinched.

Asher looked at her for a moment; the faint smirk disappeared from his features to be replaced by an empty stare. The cobweb of scars on his face began to glow a dull, ember red. "Do as you must."

Too distracted by his glowing skin, Cecilia didn't respond. Her thoughts, usually precise and organized, were jumbled and hazy. But her emotions were powerfully clear – rage boiled inside her. There were few things that irked her more than not knowing something. She held the knife at his throat a moment longer; her mind tasting the possibilities. She was not going to be able to kill him. She knew that.

He raised his brows and ran his tongue across his lips, then slowly placed his hands on her knees. Tracing lightly with his palms as she trembled harder, his fingers came to rest on her hips.

"I will kill you, Asher!" she said, desperation lining her voice. "What have you done to me? What advantage do you gain from controlling my mind?"

"You're ill-informed. Rune mastery uses the power of the elements, not mind control," Asher replied hotly.

She laughed – a dry laugh. "I was warned not to trust your kind."