Bound By Fate: A Novel of the Strong by Amy Knickerbocker Page B

nearly swallowing her whole.
    Feeling more secure now that her body was a bit more covered, Liv tried to calm her racing heart.
    “Okay, okay, okay,” she chanted to herself as she sidled over to a partially opened door.  
    She peeked in.
    Bathroom.  
    There was only one other door in the room. She crept across the carpet to press an ear against the wood.
    Through it, Liv could feel energy emanating from two males, two distinct sets of emotions. One was a cloying concoction of slyness, haughty disdain, and barely-hidden glee. The other, a potent blend of anger and disgust highlighted by the barest hint of despair.
    They were locked in a terse conversation.
    Something about duty? Impotence? Marriage?  
    She pressed her fingertips against the door and strained to hear more.
    A seething blast of hate knocked her away.  
    Hatred for… me?
    Blinking past her hurt and her fear, Liv stood frozen in place, her heart thundering in her chest. If she were brave like Mandy, she’d go back and listen for more. Her friend had always told her that, to protect herself, knowing the lay of the land was key.  
    She wasn’t brave.
    Instead, she finally managed to stagger towards the fireplace. Now even colder than before, Liv picked up the heavy poker with shaking hands and bent to stoke the coals.  
    Just as she leaned forward, the air filled with a hissing static. Someone or something solidified in the room right behind her. A scream of terror left her lips as she whirled around and swung the iron as hard as she could.
    She connected squarely with bone.  
    A daemon roared.
    *****
    “What the fuck?”
    As pain seared across his scalp, Toran’s venna thrashed and whipped about the room in a frenzy. He fell backwards into a chair, the telltale warmth of blood oozing through his hair.  
    “Oh my gods. Oh my gods.” The sound of a female’s soft and panicked voice thrummed against his eardrums.
    He sensed more than saw her dart away. She returned seconds later with a towel from the bathroom. With one arm cradling his head, she pressed the cloth to his wound, her body tucked inside his open legs.  
    He stared right into her heaving breasts. Through his electric blue haze Toran somehow managed to process that she was wearing one of his V-neck tee shirts. Ten sizes too large, the neckline slid down her shoulder, doing nothing to hide her cleavage.  
    “I’m so sorry.” The faine’s body trembled as she pressed her hand tighter against his head. “You frightened me. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
    Despite the electric charge in the room, a strange sense of calm blanketed his agitation, as though his unease were trapped beneath her fingertips.  
    It was as if she welcomed the sting of his venna.  
    He reached up and knocked her hand away.  
    “Step away from me, faine.” Taking the towel from her, Toran held it to his head and angled out of the chair and away.
    “I’m so sorry,” she said again. Ignoring his command, she stepped towards him, her palms open in supplication. “Are you okay?”
    He spun away from her touch.
    “It’s just a cut.” Gods, his throat felt like gravel. “It’s already healing.” As if to prove the point, Toran tossed the bloody towel into the corner.
    As an awkward silence passed between them, Toran could see questions swirling in her eyes. When the faine finally spoke, he resisted the urge to close his eyes and lean in to her melodic voice.  
    Which just served to piss him off further.
    “Where am I?” she asked. “How long have I been here?”
    At her questions, he looked around, the full ramifications of what he had done finally dawning.
    He had brought the faine here.
    To his bed.
    What the fuck had he been thinking?
    Toran grabbed her wrist. Throwing a hidden door open with his venna, he dragged her out of his room and down the darkened corridor that led to the chamber of the faine.
    The blue luminescence of his venna lit the way.
    “What are you doing? Where are you taking