Chapter 71: The Red Goblin’s Invitation

Her hair fell over one shoulder, and she brushed it back with a graceful movement that seemed entirely natural.

I had fought wild boars, dwarves, and creatures that could tear a goblin apart with one bite.

I’d faced opponents who could kill me if I made a single mistake.

Yet standing in front of Zarvessa, I suddenly found myself uncertain about what to do with my hands.

This was ridiculous.

I was the Storm Sovereign. Whatever that was.

I possess a legendary axe and enough power to turn a group of ordinary warriors into a very short and unfortunate memory.

Why was I acting like a someone who had never spoken to a female before?

"You said you were willing to follow someone capable of leading the goblins," Zarvessa murmured. "Is that true?"

"Yes."

"What if I told you I was capable of doing exactly that?"

I considered her for a moment.

"I’d ask what your plan was."

"And if I told you I already had one?"

"Then I’d ask whether it was a good plan."

She smiled.

"You really are difficult to impress."

"I’ve been told that too."

Her expression softened, and her voice dropped into something quieter, more intimate.

"What would it take to convince you, Sylas?"

I opened my mouth, but she moved closer before I could answer.

My back straightened. I took a small step away from the basin, only to discover that she had followed me.

There was no aggression in her movements, no sudden threat to react to.

She simply seemed intent on closing the distance between us, and every step made it harder for me to remember what we’d been discussing.

"Zarvessa," I began, trying to recover some of my composure. "I feel like we’re moving into a conversation that requires a little more preparation on my part."

"Does it?"

"Absolutely. I usually prefer to know what game I’m playing before I start losing."

Her lips curved.

"Who said anything about a game?"

She reached up and placed one hand against the side of my head.

I froze.

Her fingers slipped into my hair, resting just above my ear, while her other hand settled lightly against my shoulder.

She was close enough that I could see the delicate curve of her eyelashes and the small smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

I tried to think of something clever to say. Nothing came.

That alone was a deeply troubling development.

"Join me, Sylas," she whispered.

I stared at her.

"Join you?"

"My clan. My cause. My plans for the future." Her thumb brushed lightly against my temple. "You say you want to help the goblins stand together. I have the resources, the warriors, and the authority to make that happen. You have the strength to make people listen."

She leaned closer.

"Why should we work against each other when we could accomplish so much together?"

For once in my life, I had absolutely no response.

It wasn’t the offer itself that had left me speechless.

The proposition made sense.

Zarvessa was a clan chief with a settlement, an organised group of warriors, and enough influence to make decisions that affected hundreds of goblins.

Working with her could give me access to resources we desperately needed.

No, the problem was the way she was asking.

Her voice had become softer, each word flowing into the next with a warmth that seemed to slip past my thoughts and settle somewhere beneath them.

I could feel her breath against my face. The faint scent of flowers and something sweet drifted from her hair, mixing with the earthy smell of the courtyard.

My mind, which had been perfectly capable of analysing threats and calculating battle strategies a few moments ago, had apparently decided to abandon its responsibilities.

I swallowed.

"That’s a very generous offer," I managed.

"Is that all you have to say?"

"I’m trying to come up with something more intelligent."

"And how is that going?"

"Terribly."

She laughed, her voice brushing against my ears.

I was beginning to suspect that she knew exactly what she was doing.

The thought should have helped me regain control of the situation.

Instead, it made me even more aware of how close she was. Her crimson eyes held mine, and the smile on her lips had become smaller, almost private.

"You don’t have to decide everything now," she whispered. "Just tell me you’re willing to give me a chance."

I drew a breath to answer.

She didn’t give me the opportunity.

Zarvessa tilted her head and kissed me.

For one suspended moment, my mind went completely blank.

Holy shit.

I had expected many things when I’d agreed to follow her into this courtyard. Questions about my abilities.

An attempt to recruit me.

Perhaps a threat disguised as an offer, or some political arrangement that would require me to sit through hours of negotiations.

I had not expected this.

Her hand remained against the side of my head as her lips pressed against mine, and I stood there too stunned to react.

Every clever remark I’d ever made seemed to have abandoned me at once.

Her tongue parted my lips and she took my mouth like she’d been starving for it.

I should have pulled away.

Instead I kissed her back, and the hunger in it startled me, a slow, devouring heat that pulled the breath out of my chest.

My hands found the curve of her waist and drew her flush against me.

The moan she gave me vibrated against my tongue, low and wet and unashamed.

She broke the kiss just enough to look at me.

Her eyes were the color of embers under ash, half-lidded, and the look in them was so frankly wanting that every sensible thought left me.

I kissed her again and stepping forward. She followed my motion stepping backward, and when I finally opened my eyes the clearing was gone.

We stood in a chamber of red stone. Braziers burned in iron cradles along the walls, throwing amber light across crimson silks that hung from the ceiling and moved in a draft I couldn’t feel.

The air smelled of smoke, myrrh and warm skin. Beneath my feet was a floor of black fur, thick as moss.

She was beautiful in a way that felt dangerous.

Her skin was a deep, burnished copper, scarred across the ribs and shoulder in pale, healed lines.

Dark hair fell past her shoulder blades, heavy and slightly damp at the temples.

Her armor was lacquered red and black, cut close to the body, and the firelight slid across it like blood across a blade.

I put my mouth to the side of her neck and felt her pulse against my lips, quick and hot.

I kissed down to her collarbone, to her shoulder, my fingers working at the clasps of her armor.

The plates loosened and fell away one by one, ringing softly on the floor.

She laughed under her breath, then reached for the shawl at my hips and let it slip.

Cool air touched my skin, then her skin, bare against mine from chest to thigh.

I shuddered.

She was so warm, and the slide of her body against me was almost too much to bear.

Her nails traced down my back, slowly, deliberately, and I felt every inch of them.

She took hold of me and guided me into her.

We both moaned.

She was fire and silk, tight and welcoming, and for a moment I couldn’t move at all or I would have ended it there.

I began to rock against her slowly, and her legs wound around me, her heels pressing into the small of my back.

I buried my face between her breasts and breathed her in, salt and smoke and something sweeter underneath, drowning in the pleasure of it.

She seized a fistful of my hair and pulled my head back until I was looking straight up at her.

The sight of her, flushed and fierce, lips parted, a bead of sweat sliding between her breasts, undid me a little more.

She rolled us and rose above me, a dark silhouette against the amber light.

Then she began to ride, and she moved like a belly dancer, all fluid rhythm and unhurried control.

The muscles of her stomach rippled with each roll of her hips, her waist narrow and gleaming.

My hands ran up her thighs, her ribs, her breasts, and she arched into my palms and sighed.

This was heaven.

The firelight, the heat, the weight and motion of her.

I couldn’t have named a single thing outside this room.

She leaned down, her hair falling around us like a curtain, her lips brushing my ear.

I could hear her smiling.

"What do you say?"

She straightened, still holding me inside her, still moving, slow now, almost cruel.

Then she bent and kissed my neck, and her voice dropped to a purr.

"Would you like to join me? To stand by my side as a red goblin?"

The offer hung there between us.

I turned it over for one long second, the pleasure still rolling through me, her warmth still wrapped around me, how easy it would be to say yes.

My hand rose and closed in her hair.

I drew her face down until our noses touched and her ember eyes filled my whole sight.

And then I responded:

"No."