FOREVER KNIGHTS: #7 King of Assassins
Where to Take Her

She stopped as though his raging voice had been a slap.

“You’re achingly lovely.” He softened his voice, snaking the perimeter of the room under her watchful eye, until close enough to see her round face.

A face which was dominated by large almond eyes. A shade the bluest sky would envy. Trimmed in dense lashes. Her short nose lent her features character. Pouting lips were a ruby swathe over her curved chin.

“Who are you, Sabine Delacroix?”

Who is this woman who steps with the wind and dances in snowflakes.

She jumped at his nearness. But to his surprise, did not flee.

He reached a thumb to stroke her heavy bottom lip. “You’re a cleansing breath of air in my constricted world. I can’t bear the idea of him hurting you. Controlling you. Such a pretty flower would die without sunshine and laughter. A girl that dances in the snow wouldn’t survive that…”

He’d destroy you.

“How did you know that?” She gasped. “Him, who?”

Radix. That thumb slid to trace the line of her fine cheekbone. But he didn’t answer.

“You sound almost…sincere.”

Of course!

“I’m always that if nothing else. If I don’t wish you to know a truth, I simply won’t answer. I abhor deception.” Vehemence entered his voice.

“You think me pleasing to look on?”

Unbearably.

“I do.”

“Show yourself to me.” She directed.

No. Too dangerous.

“I fear I cannot, My Lady.”

“Odd. I’d thought you were once someone who feared little.”

I’m not afraid. It’s unwise.

“I was. When I was a warrior called Derenoe.” His head lowered, and voice became pained even to his own ears. “That’s not the man I am any longer.”

“What happened to these friends of yours?”

I betrayed them.

“All good things must come to an end, My Lady.”

She looked down at her arm as she felt the touch there. “Why are you so warm?”

His large hand wrapped in her small white one. Lifting it he pressed his lips to the back.

Her brows drawing together at where he stood in the shadows, unable to glimpse his features. Her lashes fluttered, and eyes closed.

“What are you thinking?” He couldn’t resist.

“I’m savoring the feel of your touch.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t customarily let people touch me.” She breathed.

“Whyever not?”

He heard her thoughts as she considered if he was a spirit. A ghost.

“Of a form.” He confirmed

“Huh?” She asked bemusedly.

“I am a form of spirit.”

She frowned. “I asked you nothing.”

“Yet I answered. I’m sure you’ll assess it out.”

She studied his outline wondering if he knew her thoughts.

Yes.

“It’s time I must go.” He said sadly.

She watched the watery shadow back from her.

“You shouldn’t have allowed me to look on you. I’m most certainly completely besotten.”

She scoffed.

“I offer no sarcasm.”

“Yet you play some manner of game?”

“I don’t jest about such things.” As he spun to leave, he looked over his shoulder a last time. “Had I somewhere to go, would you let me take you there?”

As strange as it’d be.

She paused. Brows drawing together.

“If I could protect you from all things that’d harm you?”

She laughed lightly.

Wondering if I’m mad, no doubt.

When he said nothing more, merely waiting, she swallowed hard.

“I-I guess I c-could.” Her reluctance was obvious, but she finished quickly. “I’ve nothing to hold me here…"

"But where would you take me?” A tinge of fear darkened her voice.

“Indeed.” Chavias’ jaw set. Eyes glittering decisively.

Those that knew him well knew that look. It was steely determination.