Standing, I hear Merek do the same as Rowan and Henry guide her toward the chair at my side. “Good evening, Sybilla,” I say softly, lifting her hand to my lips as I bow slightly.
Tasting the skin of her knuckle, I hold back the groan at her scent. I want naught more than to be inside of her again, the moment cannot come soon enough.
“Good evening, Elias,” she breathes.
“Officially, this is my cousin, Merek,” I introduce.
Lifting my hand and waving toward Merek. He bows slightly and to her credit, Sybilla dips into a small curtsy, bowing her head toward him.
The three of us take our seats, Rowan and Henry do as well toward the end of the table, giving us our privacy if we need it, which I think that the three of us do about now. Clearing my throat, I lift my hand toward my butler, signaling that it is time for the first course, I’m starving.
“Merek is heading out tomorrow in search of a powerful witch,” I offer, keeping my eyes on Sybilla to gauge her reaction.
To her credit, she looks naught other than confused by my words. Merek clears his throat, obviously objecting to my telling Sybilla about the expedition. Her brows are furrowed as she looks at me, then Merek, then back to me.
“I don’t think that I understand what you’re saying,” she admits.
Dipping my chin, I reach out and take her fingers in mine, squeezing them before I release them. “If your powers are hindering or blocking Aleida’s, then this witch will be able to sense that. She’s even stronger than Aleida, the strongest in my land actually,” I explain.
There is a moment of silence before Sybilla makes a noise, sounding like a snort. Shifting my gaze from her eyes to her mouth, then back to her eyes, I wait for her to speak. I watch as she temptingly licks her lips, inhaling through her nose then exhaling.
“Bring her, hopefully, she’ll be able to tell you that I am not a witch. I don’t know how I got here, except to think that you’ve kidnapped me from my apartment.”
Merek makes a noise in the back of his throat, but I cannot look away from Sybilla’s golden eyes. She is not lying, she is convinced, she is serious that she believes I have caused her ill-intent. That me, or one of my people, has kidnapped her and holds her hostage.
A fleeting thought passes through my mind. Did she open her body up to me, convinced that I would take it anyway? That I would force myself upon her? I shake my head once as a servant sets a bowl of dark rich stew in front of us.
Picking up my spoon, I grab a piece of bread from between us and dip it in my soup, soaking it to soften the bread before I shove a piece in my mouth. Her eyes flick from the soup to the bread, then back to me.
I decide that I don’t care how she felt when she opened for me, because before our coupling was complete, she was nowhere near scared and her cries of ecstasy were definitely not cries of fear.
Merek doesn’t say much as we continue eating. Though I catch his eyes drifting toward her breasts. I don’t blame him one ounce, but I decide immediately, no matter how fetching the gown is on her, that Sybilla needs gowns fit to her body. Obviously, my father’s women were much smaller than Sybilla’s perfectly curvy physique.
The main course is served and although I don’t typically enjoy the bake metis, it’s something that is served often in the winter to ward off the chill, Sybilla must like it judging by the moan that escapes her lips. I am forced to shift in my seat at the sound, my cock standing at attention and begging for entrance into her warm body.
Pouring more cider in her goblet, I top mine off as well, needing it to finish this meal with her at my side and me not inside of her. I decide to begin taking our sup together in my chambers so that I can watch her devour her meals, moaning at the flavors, but doing it completely naked.
“I will return as quickly as possible, cousin, and with the witch in tow,” Merek says as he abruptly stands.
His eyes aren’t on mine, instead his hands are curled into fists at his side and his gaze is focused directly on Sybilla.
“Allow me to walk you out,” I offer, clearing my throat as I stand and bow slightly to Sybilla. “I will return shortly,” I offer her before I follow Merek out of the dining room.
Merek and I are at the castle entrance before either of us speaks. He is the first to say something. Whirling around to look at me, I watch as he shakes his head a couple of times, his gaze wild.
“She is…” He pauses, inhaling deeply through his nose. “She is seducing. Though I’m not sure it is intentional, which confuses me, I must admit.”
“Yes, I agree,” I say with a nod.
“I will return as quickly as possible so that we can get to the bottom of this. I fear that she may be the victim of some kind of foul play. For I see no deception anywhere inside of her.”
Lifting my hand, I run my fingers through my hair, my gaze flicking back up to meet his. “I feel the same. Though I must admit, I was afraid it was only because I’d had her. I am glad that physical pleasures haven’t clouded my instinct,” I say, lifting my lips in a smirk.
He chuckles, reaching out and clapping his hand around the side of my neck. “I have no doubt that they have clouded you, cousin. But I have seen no other person, man, woman or child, best your instincts, no matter what.”
He dips his chin in a nod, then turns and leaves me standing at the doors, watching him descend the castle entrance steps and head toward the stables to retrieve his horse. Turning from the doors, I hear the guard close them behind me.
Chapter Seven
ELIAS
Sybilla sits at the table, a fruit tart held in her fingers and pressed against her lips as I march back into the dining room. Rowan and Henry smartly keep their mouths shut at the sight of me. Sybilla’s brows lift and I watch as her lips part before she slips the tart into her mouth.
Walking over to my place at the table, I reach out and grab ahold of my goblet of cider. Lifting it to my lips, I take a healthy drink, my eyes never leaving Sybilla. Setting my goblet down, I lift my hand to signal my butler.
“Have a pitcher, two goblets and a tray of tarts sent to my chambers,” I demand, my gaze never leaving hers.
The lashes that fan her cheeks as she stares at her plate instantly fly up at my words and those golden eyes that make me instantly hard, meet mine.
“Shall we, milady?” I ask, holding my palm out to her.
I watch as she gulps, her nostrils flaring slightly before she slips her palm into mine and without hesitation stands to her feet. Jerking my chin behind her toward Rowan and Henry, I silently dismiss their services before turning toward the stairs.
Tucking Sybilla’s arm close to my side, I guide us toward my chambers. I could send her into her own and have the maids ready her for me, but there was something I rather enjoyed about loosening her ribbons myself.
Guiding her into my chambers, I ignore the seating room and keep us moving until we’re actually in my bedchamber. Locking the door behind me, I turn around to look at her. She has already made her way toward the window, her profile the only thing that I see in the soft glow of the lantern.
“You’ll catch a sickness next to that window. Close the draperies, sweeting,” I call out.
She turns to me, her eyes shimmering with what looks like unshed tears. I’m not sure why she looks sad, but I’m not sure that I want to know either. She does as I’ve asked and drops the draperies. Slowly, she closes the distance between us.