A Shadow in the Ember (Flesh and Fire 1)

“I’m sure you mean absolutely no offense,” he purred. “Just like you meant no offense when you stabbed me.”

I ignored the rumble of his voice and the reminder of what I’d done. “But you should leave.”

“There you go, being so very demanding. Meanwhile, you ignore what I’ve demanded of you.” His head tilted back, and a slice of moonlight kissed one cheek. “It’s very different.”

My pulse skittered. “What? A mortal who doesn’t cower before you or beg for a favor?”

“Some beg for quite a bit more than a favor.” His voice was like smoke, a shadowy caress. And that voice…it stoked that same odd feeling of warmth and familiarity. “But you’re not the type to cower. I doubt you’re the type to beg.”

“I’m not,” I told him.

“That’s a shame.”

“Maybe for you.”

“Maybe,” he agreed and then drifted forward.

“What are you doing?” I demanded, tensing.

He stopped, close enough for me to see an arched brow. “If I’m to leave as you so kindly demanded, I will have to walk forward.”

My jaw was beginning to hurt from how tightly I held it. “You can’t leave from any of the other banks?”

“I’m afraid that the lake is far too deep in those areas for that. And there is the issue of a cliff to one side.”

I stared at him. “You’re a god. Can’t you do something…godly?” I sputtered. “Like will yourself from the lake?”

“Will myself from a lake?” he repeated slowly, the half-grin making another appearance. “That’s not how that works.” The moon eased free of the clouds, bathing him once more in pearlescent light. “Should I stay, or should I go?”

I glared at him. “Go.”

“As you wish, my lady.” He bowed his head slightly and then proceeded forward.

I watched him closely. The water dipped below his chest, revealing the ridges of the lean muscles of his stomach. I knew I should look away. Continuing to stare there meant I was being equally inappropriate. But his body was…it was very interesting, and I was curious because, well…

I didn’t have a good, appropriate reason for looking.

I knew how strong he was, so the fact that his body represented his strength came as no surprise. Despite the coolness of the water, the warmth in my skin steadily spread as those…thick lines on the insides of his hips became visible, a deep black that followed the indentations there, traveling down and over toward his—

“Oh, my gods!” I shrieked. “Stop!”

He halted a mere breath from the water revealing far, far too much. “Yes?” he inquired.

“You’re naked,” I informed him.

A heartbeat of silence passed. “Are you now just realizing that?”

“No!”

“Then you have to realize I will continue to be naked until I retrieve the clothing you apparently didn’t notice in your haste to undress.”

The breath I inhaled scorched my lungs.

“If it makes you uncomfortable, I suggest closing your eyes or keeping them off my unmentionables.” He paused. “Unless you would like for me to stay?”

“I don’t want you to stay.”

“Why do I think that’s a lie?”

“It’s not.”

“That’s another lie.”

I twitched at the near-decadent drawl of his tone and managed to keep my eyes on his face as he proceeded forward. Kind of. My gaze dropped again, but to those strange black lines. He was close enough that I could see that they did indeed creep along the side of his body. But they weren’t solid. Instead, some smaller marks or shapes followed the pattern of a line. Did they continue onto his back? Curiosity blazed through me now. What were the shapes?

Don’t ask. Keep your mouth closed. Don’t ask. Don’t—

“Is that ink?” I blurted out, hating myself for asking and for continuing to speak. “The kind needled into the skin?”

He stopped. “It is…something like that.”

I didn’t know if gods and Primals had a different process when it came to tattoos. “Did it hurt?”

“Only till it didn’t,” he replied, and my gaze lifted. There was a slight curve to his lips—just the faintest of smiles. But like before, it had a startling effect, warming the coldness of his features. “You’re familiar with tattoos?”

I nodded. “I’ve seen them on some of the sailors. Mostly on their backs and arms.”

Another lock of hair slipped forward over his cheek this time. “You’ve seen the bare backs of many sailors?”

Not that many, but that was none of his business. “So what if I have?”

“So what, indeed?” The faint smile remained. “It just makes all of this far more…interesting.”

I tensed to the point it almost became painful. “I don’t see how.”

“I could explain,” he offered.

“Not necessary.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“I have time.”

“I don’t. Just go,” I repeated, my frustration with him, the day, and with the fact that he was here in my lake, and that this place would never be the same again, rising to the surface. “But do not come any closer to me. If you do, you will not like what happens.”