Page 66 of Godbound
The music slows and the man pauses, widening his arms in a silent offer. Would I take another dance, a slow one this time? All I have to do is step forward, walk into his arms, and experience something entirely new.
And I would. Just to be contrary. Just to prove—to myself, to my Godbeast—that I don’t care that he’s watching.
But before I can take that step, the quiet shifts. The familiar scent of frigid night and leather curls through the air from behind me.
“Go.”
The single word is a warning.
The man whose name I don’t even know, I suddenly realize, straightens, defiant. “Not until the lady tells me so,” he says, suddenly serious. “Though it seems she much prefers my company to yours. So maybe it should be you who goes.”
A large shadow creeps into my sightline and just like that, whatever game I thought I was playing is over.
I forgot. For a second, I forgot what Kaelzar is. What he can do.What he’s done before. I forgot that he doesn’t need to raise his voice or bare his teeth for a man like the one that holds me to make a very, very bad mistake.
I appreciate the stranger’s bravado, but a sharp unease digs under my ribs. I feel more than hear my Godbeast inhale, preparing to reply or perhaps end this conversation in a way that man would not walk away from.
So I step aside.
“I’ve had a wonderful time,” I say with an apologetic smile, my voice lighter than I feel. “But it’s time to take my Godbeast for his evening walk. And I’m afraid he keeps a strict schedule.”
The man smiles, takes my hand, and slowly brings it to his lips again.
“It was my pleasure,” he says, releasing me. “My name is Silas Woodlock. And if you ever need another dance partner, you can always find me here.”
He flicks a glance at Kaelzar, not quite challenging, but not cowering either. His confidence wavers for just a breath, and then, as if sensing an unspoken warning, he offers me one last smile and slips into the crowd.
I let out a long-suffering sigh and turn to face my Godbeast.
“What now?” I say harshly. “Did I offend your delicate sensibilities? Or do you just enjoy ruining a good time?”
Standing so close, I can make out his face beneath the low hood. His gray eyes gleam in the shadows like a cat’s. He exhales, aggravated, and the rattle of his chains makes me cringe.
“Letting a stranger grope you is a good time?” His voice is low, barely audible beneath the music.
Still feeling soft and fuzzy from the spirit in my belly, I snort. “You’re the last person I’d ever feel obligated to explain who is allowed to grope me and when,” I say. “You, of all people, don’t get a say.”
I tilt my head, let my eyes wander the room with deliberate carelessness. “In fact,” I muse, tapping a finger against my chin, “I might find Silas Woodlock again and let him grapple with me some more, since it bothers you so much. Already have one of these,” I curl the redstrand of my hair around my finger, watching for the slightest reaction beneath his hood, “might as well.”
Before I can move away, Kaelzar grips my arm and turns me away from the bar. “Do you know these men?” he asks.
I shove his arm away, ready to snap back, until I follow his gaze. At a table near the shadowy corner, the milky-eyed man I noticed earlier glares at me, his expression so full of hate that my body tenses on instinct.
“No,” I say. “But I’d be a fool to expect everyone to fall for the cursed Champion.”
Kaelzar tilts his head slightly, his attention razor-sharp. “I overheard them whispering about getting rid of you.” His voice is quiet, unbothered. “As if you’re an obstacle.” A pause. Then, as if remarking on the weather, or something equally mundane, he says, “Before I make them disappear, I could?—”
“Don’t,” I cut him off, pulse quickening. I know exactly how he’s going to finish that sentence, and I know he means it.
I turn on him, my voice sharp. “Don’t you dare talk about ‘disappearing’ people like they’re nothing but crumbs on your table,” I snap, panic and anger rising like a tide. “You act like you’re above it all, like it’s easy for you. Maybe it is. Maybe you’ve done it so many times it barely costs you anything. But you don’t get to make that choice for me.”
His deadly gaze cuts toward the corner. His body stays still, hands loose at his sides, yet the intensity in his eyes makes every instinct in me scream to avoid, submit, move out of his way. He looks like a predator that should never be tamed.
Then he moves, just barely. It is a subtle shift, but his body angles, placing himself between me and the men across the room. And that’s when I realize: he’s finally become what he was meant to be all along. My deadly protector.
The realization hits low and deep, a shiver rising through me before I can catch it. The danger in him should drive me back, but instead it pulls me closer. Heat blooms beneath my skin, dulling the edge of trepidation before I can stop it.
“Let’s go, beastie,” I say, shoving him toward the exit. The false lightness in my voice doesn’t quite land the way I want it to. “I promised you a walk.”
