Sin of Fury by Avery Duncan Page B

lower lip was too full, her cheeks were
too high and regal, and her dark hair was just...too dark. Her
shoulders were slim, and with the brighter light he saw more of her
than he thought was healthy.
    The dress was strapless, the corset
extra tight. She looked to be having slight trouble breathing, but
he couldn’t tell if it was because of him or how constricting the
thing was. Her waist was small, too delicate for his liking. Her
hands were slender and pale, just like the rest of her body. He
could have easily snapped her wrist, he thought, considering. She
would not be so foolish to touch him again.
    But even as she tried to pull away to
do the very thing he wanted her to, his hand kept her still. He
noticed when her hand left his thigh. A snarl escalated from his
throat, the veracity of it bringing fear to her eyes.
    “ Listen, I’m really sorry.
Just let me go and I can leave you alone...” She trailed off, voice
becoming weak as he brought his eyes to hers. His hand relaxed, yet
he didn’t let her go. His shoulders loosened. His lips parted on an
exhale.
    Her eyes were so blue...and too big.
He forced himself to believe that she was no beauty, forced himself
to remember that she was a pawn for Auro and Lyne and wanted
nothing but his demise. She was surely working with them, he
thought, turning his head from her.
    If Talon hadn’t been so weak, he would
have cleaned himself. But as it was, he found himself letting her
hand go, not pushing it away but letting it sit there, the damp
cloth turning cold in the frigid air.
    There was a tense silence in which he
thought she was pull away. Instead, slowly, the cloth was pulled
from his chest and replaced warmer than before. He glanced at her
face, turned down from his gaze. Talon felt uneasy when he saw the
blush overcome her face, her shoulders tensing with every
second.
    She turned so stiff her hand started
to shake. Talon sighed, and did something he hadn’t done for
months.
    He spoke. “Stop.”
    The woman squeaked, her hand stopping.
Even to his own ears his voice was rough, like colliding rocks. It
boomed through the room, even though he hadn’t said it loudly. It
almost hurt to talk, he thought, closing his eyes
briefly.
    He tried again, wondering how he was
going to get her to calm down. The shakiness in her hands could
only be catastrophic to his torn chest. If she were to dig the
cloth too sharply into his chest he would only feel pain, might
only attack her.
    Talon spoke uneasily. “Don’t be
scared. I won’t kill you until you do something wrong,” he said,
hating how deep his voice was. Not only was it deep, but it was
scratchy and it hurt to talk.
    For a second, her face shown only
confusion. And then fear as realization dawned on her. He watched
her face pale a second before she stood, rushing to the door in the
corner. Talon felt like an ass as he heard the rushing water, could
imagine her crying silently, alone.
    He started to sit up,
grimacing.
    No one had ever bothered to
take care of him. His ravaged body had taken a fierce toll. He
pushed aside the blanket and stared down at himself. His skin was
loose, bones showing. He no longer had a perfectly tanned,
perfectly formed body. Disgust rolled through him.
    He sat up, drawn to the woman in the
bathroom. She had just been trying to help. While she may be a pawn
for Auro and Lyne, it was unlikely they had told her to clean him,
to even use warm water on him. It stung, but it was better than ice
cold water.
    Soft steps on the carpet drew his eyes
to her. She had a cup in her hand, but her face was still pale. And
dry — meaning she hadn’t cried. Relief coursed through him, then
anger. He hated himself for caring, even if it was just a small
amount.
    Yet, as she came forward, the dress
flowing behind her with an ethereal grace, he didn’t take in the
room as he would have. He saw nothing but her, but the calm masked
that sat upon her face. He wondered how hard it would be to break
her, how long