Page 3 of Night Fall
Still, she turned to check, but he was nowhere in sight. When she turned back to the men, they were already busying themselves with their normal day to day tasks, ensuring that their backs were to her.
Mya would have thought she had imagined the whole thing if it were not for the way the men scattered away from her every time she passed near them to feed one of the horses. They had never been overly friendly or conversational with her, above and beyond the watchful nature of their roles, but the way they veered away from her now, and the eyes that followed her back when she moved, did not feel like mere curiosity. Instead of apathy, they treated her as if she was a blight that could infect them.
She shrugged. Their actions made no matter to her. In all actuality she preferred to be left alone; speaking to people took too much energy from her, and she found their conversations not only tiring but uninspiring. Still, the sudden change was strange, but that was not the only thing that struck her as odd.
Mya had kept an eye out for the stableman who had spoken to her the day before, desperate to not run into him again, but as the morning wore on, she realized that she had not seen him at any of the usual posts in the stables or out on the field.
When Erik came to tuck her in later that night, she decided to give voice to the thoughts in her head.
“I went to the stables today,” she said, studying him.
His entire body seemed to still, except for one small tic in his hand as he gripped the top of her comforter. His silver eyes met her own, and she noticed how hard they were. “I know. How were the horses?”
“Well, but—”
“Then I am overjoyed to hear you enjoyed your time.”
His tone was clipped, angry, and it confused her as he turned to walk away. Mya nearly let him, but she could not stop the words that tumbled from her mouth.
“Did you do something to that stableman?”
Again, Erik froze. His fists balled, clenched, then extended. She could see the tension in each movement, yet he did not answer her.
“Erik, did you do—”
“No one hurts you, Mya.”
Her mouth dropped open, then closed quickly. She sat up, holding the comforter to her chest. “But he did not hurt me. It was my fault.”
A rush of air hit her face as Erik appeared in front her, his nose mere centimeters from hers. His eyes were controlled, cold, dangerous, and it made something in her want something she could not name.
When he spoke, his voice was low, hoarse, drowning in some sort of emotion that made her heart pound and goosebumps snake up her skin.
“He did hurt you. Whether he meant to or not makes no difference to me. That is inexcusable,” Erik hissed. “He dared to speak to you when he should not have, and by doing so he hurt you. No one hurts what is min—”
Erik took a deep breath and closed his eyes, attempting to settle his anger. His body shuddered as if he was forcing himself back from an invisible ledge. With another breath he centered himself, peered into her eyes, and said in a deep, controlled tone, “No one hurts what falls under my care.”
“The men are not allowed to speak to me?” Mya whispered.
“Correct. They may not speak to you, touch you, or pay attention to you unless completely necessary.”
She bit her lip and forced herself to swallow. His control should have felt restrictive. She should have been angry with him, she should have told him she could take care of herself, but instead she felt her skin growing warm as a thrumming began between her thighs and her core grew damp. For a single moment Mya worried she may have gotten her cycle early, but this was not that. This feeling was pleasant, needy, something else that she had never felt before.
Erik’s eyes grew darker, the black pupils bleeding over into his normal silver and making them appear gray at the edges. He inhaled as if he were smelling something, tasting the air. His breath grew labored, and a small part of his fang extended beyond his lips.
“Are you not mad at me?” he asked, his voice deeper than she had ever heard it.
Mya shook her head.
“Tell me why,” he murmured as he leaned closer to her body, nearly eliminating the distance. He grabbed hold of her hair, twirling it between his fingers while his eyes roamed over her face, drinking in her every expression.
She bit her lip again, her eyes flickering away from his and falling back to his red lips. “I … appreciate your protection, I suppose.”
He hummed, then nodded. “Then I will tell you what I did to the stableman. I stalked him until he was running scared for his life. Then I tore off his head, drained his body of most of its blood, and fed his useless corpse to the pigs. His family will receive a large dowry for his reported accidental death, and none will be the wiser.”
She gasped in shock, but the horror she should have felt was missing. Instead, a thrill of pleasure flew through her at how far Erik would go for her. His violence, his protection, made her feel treasured, cherished, reveled in.
“Tell me, Mya, does it scare you that I can be so callous? So cold and brutal?” he taunted.
