approach if you really want me to join you. Because I doubt that ugly little nymph will be there.'
His lips twitched and he felt a tickling in his throat. 'I did not ask you there. You asked me. And I will go. Part of me hopes you will stay away.'
Sparks lit her eyes, a blaze of fury and that seemingly ever-present arousal. 'And what does the other part of you hope? That the sex-hungry bitch will go instead?'
'That you come, that I can rid myself of the thought of you.'
She softened somewhat, as did the growing ache in his chest. 'And if you can't?'
'That you'll be so weak from loss of blood that you fail during the next challenge and are chosen to die.' There was stark truth in his tone, though he wasn't sure he meant a word.
'Liar.' She arched a brow, not giving him the reaction he'd expected. 'You want me, you're just afraid to admit it. Besides, you've told me time and again never to trust you,' she said with utter confidence. 'But you never told me if you bedded the nymph.'
Do not give her the reaction she's looking for, either. 'And I won't. Now, I've delivered my warning. That's all I can do. Come to the waterfall at your own peril.'
'I'm not afraid of you, Layel,' she said, raising her chin.
'Foolish.'
'Confident in my abilities.'
'Foolish,' he insisted. But he was the foolish one. The world around them had long since faded. He was aware of her and only her. Anyone could have snuck up on him, and he would not have cared.
She stepped closer to him, cutting away at his prized personal space to gaze up at him in challenge. 'Tell me one thing at least.'
'Let me guess. The nymph?'
Irritation curtained her features as she snapped, 'Do whatever you want with her. I don't care.'
When she sounded ready to slay the other female? She cared.
'What I want to know,' Delilah continued, closing even more distance, 'is if you would mourn for me if I did get executed.'
Any closer, and he might wrap his arms around her. Might press his lips to hers, and devour her. The thought of her death…hurt him, made him want to hold on and never let go. 'No,' he managed to squeeze past the lump growing in his throat. 'No.'
Surprising him still further, she grinned slowly. 'Once again I'm forced to remind you that you told me never to believe a word out of your mouth,' she said. 'I think you would miss me greatly.' With that, she sauntered off in the direction of the waterfall.
CHAPTER 12
WOULD LAYEL COME?
And had he touched that nymph bitch? Delilah had the sudden urge to drive the length of her wooden blade through the nearest tree. Or heart. She wasn't picky. She'd spent more time worrying about him and his actions than about Lily, the next challenge and the frightening days ahead. Sadly, she doubted that would change.
All around her, water cascaded into a dappled pool of liquid crystal. Lily pads floated dreamily and lazy moonlight seeped from the sky. Everything around her evoked peace and romance, yet her heart pounded like a war drum.
Layel had stayed away from her for an entire day. Pleasuring that nasty nymph? How she'd hoped to see him, had looked for him in every shadow; she'd missed him terribly, dark temper, cruel words and all. She hadn't sought him out, though, lost in the wake of Tagart's sickening revelation. He'd had a mate. Obviously he still mourned her.
Delilah couldn't tolerate the idea of Layel thinking of another woman while he touched her. And the nymph?
'Argh!' She was taking a chance—a big one—just to appease her curiosity. At least, that's the reasoning she gave herself. Tomorrow, perhaps, she would believe it. Right now, she wanted to experience possession. Utter, dream-about-forever possession. He wanted Delilah. On some level, he wanted her.
Oh, gods. Would he come?
Layel had considered her a fool for suggesting such a rendezvous, but then he had suggested one, as well. Perhaps she was a fool, but she had to know more of him. The compulsion to be near him, have his teeth in her vein, made her crazed. Wonderfully crazed, and that compulsion only intensified with every moment that passed. Actually, it was now buried so deep inside her she could not find and destroy it. Could only tolerate its ever-growing presence and follow wherever it happened to lead.
Would he never come?
Back and forth she paced, droplets of water splashing her calves. Tendrils of fear drifted through her. She didn't fear him. She was too much a warrior, too well trained, to let him conquer her completely and hurt her in the process. What she feared was liking everything that he did too much. Liking him. Wanting, needing, craving more and being unable to let him go.
That didn't drive her away. Oh, no. She doubted anything could drive her away right now. Nothing and no one had ever fascinated her as Layel did. All he had to do was show up and she would take care of the rest.
Another minute ticked by, then another. She had spent most of the day making more weapons, and now she fisted the two blades at her sides before tossing them down. The razored sticks crisscrossed at her back soon followed. They plopped against each other in the moss. Next came the arrows she'd painstakingly carved.
Without them, she felt naked. Not as naked as she wanted to be, though. With a humph, she sat on the driest rock at the water's edge and unwound the laces of her boots. She tossed them aside as she had her weapons and dipped her toes into the warm, soothing water.
Where in Hades was he?
If he'd changed his mind, she would hunt him down and—
'I should not have come,' he said, somehow behind her.
Gasping, she twisted. Not a single sound had given away his presence. Not so much as a blur of movement. But he was here now. Right in front of her. Beautiful, eerily so, those haunted, tragic eyes devouring her in a white-hot perusal. At least he wasn't eyeing her with hatred.
But seeing him, the first stirring of vulnerability overtook her. Suddenly she was unsure about what to do and say, and despised herself for the weakness. What did he think of as he looked at her like that? Perhaps nothing good. He still mourned the death of his human mate, after all. Still defended her honor.
Delilah, he threatened to slay at every opportunity.
'But you are here,' she finally said.
He gave a stiff nod. 'Here I am. I…did not touch the nymph.'
Relief thundered through her, so potent she would have fallen if she had been standing. Thank the gods. Heads would have rolled had he delivered a different announcement. 'As if I care,' she lied airily.
Clearly, he was not so easily fooled. 'You care. You shouldn't, but you do. I, however, only came for your neck.'
'You need to feed,' she said, and the answer suddenly didn't sit well. He hadn't come for her specifically, hadn't come for passion and satisfaction. He'd come for sustenance, nothing more.
'You knew that. I told you so. But need?' He shook his head. 'No. I'll never need anyone.'
What did that mean?
She hadn't voiced the question, but he answered her anyway. 'I want your blood. I do not need it.'
'Are you sure?'
He ignored her. 'First, you will tell me why you are so willing to help me.'
'I don't know.'
He studied her, gaze probably taking in details she didn't like him being privy to. How badly she still wanted him, how much she wished she didn't. 'You know nothing about me,' he said.
