Dark Love

Part 45

A sheen of pure ebony glinted at her from a hard face, with angular features and a swarthy complexion. Nick Stavros.

There was darkness and then the was Nick. The shiver of reaction at the mere sight of him, was not unexpected. It was not altogether unpleasant either. But then Nick had always been attractive. He had unwittingly, been her first crush. At over six feet tall, he easily topped her by a head, but he was not taller, or broader than either of the princes. Where Svennett and Darr were beefed up with muscles- one more than the other, Nick was lean and angular. He was, however, still all muscles. In that the three could have been brothers. It was all there in his predatory stride as he came up towards her. Stopping only when he had invaded her personal space. Saera gasped, her chest heavy with strain trying to drag in the next breath.

"You came back," he murmured, almost absently. His dark eyes taking on more of their usual brown hues as he stood under the glow of a street light shining through the dirt covered windows that rang alongside the warehouse. "And with magic." Tilting his head at an angle, he took in her tense posture before adding quietly. "I didn't think you'd do it." He reached out a careless finger to tap beneath her chin, jolting her head up so her eyes met his. "Marry a stranger for power. I didn't take you for a simple slut." His gaze piercing, his tone mocking.

Saera felt the slow burn of anger roil through her frame and she angled her own head in the opposite direction, mock studying him. "I was never simple," she corrected him simply. Her tone equally mocking as she chose to ignore the slur on her character to return an unspoken taunt of her own. He hated witches and she was exactly that. A witch who had come into full power. She knew how to play him. Just as he knew how to play her. They had practically grown up together. Trained by his father within these four walls.

His lip twitched, and his gaze drifted to the pack slung over her shoulder. "What's the matter? Husband dearest not taking the time to feed and...." He took a step back, his head tilting again to run his gaze down her length. "..and clothe you?"

Saera winced. She didn't need to glance down to know the the black clothing she had on was from her store of clothing at the mansion. Like all her other clothing, now lost to the flames or binned, they'd seen better days.

"I don't need a man to take care of me," she said instead.

"No, only to fuck you," he agreed, his tone painful taunt and mocking her into taking a step closer, till she was up on the tip of her toes and in his face, breathing out her aggression and frustration at the fact that he still towered over her. He didn't draw back but merely closed the distance between them till her chest was pressed flat against his... or as high as they reached.

Her mouth opened and closed in agitation, her breath panted out of her lungs in angry fumes. He was one to talk, he fucked anything in a skirt. "Fuck you, Nick," she bit out, with hardly any originality.

"You think? You think your little escapade with some weak kneed wizard made you ready to take on all this?" He waved a hand down his impressive frame. The taunt would have been hysterical coming from anyone, especially if she took into account of the impressive stature of her two princes. But nothing he said or did, left her feeling anything but breathless. How could she still be attracted to this piece of shit? "You want to take on a real man, Saera? You think you can handle it?" His taunt was sardonic, but the husky timbre that coated his rough but oily voice his an urgency he couldn't quite hide.