Page 193 of Vasmora

I lowered to his tip and circled my tongue over the sticky fluid, pausing to kiss the tip of it. The moment his jaw clenched, I gripped him harder, and he let out a pleasured sound of relief.

I tightened my grasp, curving my nails into his flesh, and he hissed, his head thrown back, breath stuttering out of him.

“Harder,” he rasped, eyes clamped shut.

“Look at me.” Fingers digging, I clutched him tighter, and those blazing eyes stared down at me, into me.

Tighter.

“You’re fire in my veins, A’miszhla. I’m burning inside.” He rested his forehead against my shoulder, panting across my throat. His hand covered my squeezing grip and he groaned. Head thrown back, he bucked beneath me, a deep furrow in his brow, veins popping in his neck. “Godsdamn, it burns.”

The pained sound in his throat echoed one I’d heard before.

“Please! It burns!”

I winced and turned away, shaking my head.

“Don’t stop.”

“Stop! Please!”

Slapping my hands to my ears, I twisted away, eyes screwed shut. “No, no, no. Stop.”

The sound of Loyce’s laughter tore through my head like the long, merciless drag of a blade.

“Call out for her.”

“Maevyth!” Dravien cried. “Please!”

Another strike.

“Maevyth!”

Another.

“Gods, please! Make it stop!”

Another.

“Stop! Stop burning him!” I screamed, and the reverberating wail that bounced off the stone walls faded for the soft trickling of water.

My eyes flipped open to my reflection, a look of sheer terror distorting my face, and I twisted around to see a troubled expression crawl over Zevander’s.

“What did she do?” He didn’t look at me when he asked.

I slowly shook my head.

“Please. I need to know what she told you.”

Had he never asked, I’d have taken that memory to my grave, but it wasn’t my secret to keep. Not telling him felt too much like a lie. Even at the risk of my own pain, he deserved to know the truth.

“It isn’t what she told me.” The rims of my eyes stung with tears, as my mind drew me back into that lightless cell. “I heard it endlessly. Your pain. She kept mimicrows. And she forced me to listen.”

Brows tight, he shook his head, shame burning in his eyes.

I didn’t know what to say to him, how to assure him that what I’d heard didn’t make me think less of him. On the contrary, I couldn’t believe that he’d endured for so long. What strength he must’ve possessed. Resilience. “I swore I’d never speak a word of it. But every time I–” The words caught in my throat. “I hear it. And her laughter. That horrible laughter.”

His jaw flexed, nostrils flared as he clearly fought to contain whatever emotions battled inside of him. “I will never ask you again.”