Chapter 13: 13. Let me go.

Without further thinking, she jumped down from the bed. She had no idea why she forgot this, but she always carried a thin dagger in her boot. Since she was already using violence, she could as well continue in the line. Swiftly, with her eyes still on the man, she pulled out her dagger and now she could suddenly see why her brain had completely forgotten she had a dagger.

This thing was nothing against this man! It's like a fork! What exactly would she do with it? Slice a loaf? But she had little to no other choice. She was ready to battle it out with this unreasonable being.

"You little witch!" His words were harsh, deep and they duly reflected his anger. "I thought elves were supposed to be meek and dignified! But you seem more like a rabid dog?"

"I am an elf!" she retorted. "And I am always as dignified as dignity can get! But you my dear sir are far from it. You clearly do not know what the word means. How can you even know what dignity means when you have that filthy dragon blood flowing inside you? You try to taint my pure, clean, blessed blood and body with your accursed, disgusting, polluted, unchaste, dirty dragon blood! I swear to all things holy and unholy, I will bite you! And do even worse if you try to touch me again."

He wasn't saying anything. Her chest was puffing up and down like a wildcat. She couldn't see his expression in the darkness. The candlelight had died and the fire from the hearth had also quenched. Apart from the minor reflections coming from the open window, they were in complete darkness now.

"Just let me go," she wanted it to sound like a plea and also not like a plea. She brought her voice lower, but her hand remained high up with her dagger.

"I promise I will not tell the princess or anyone about all this. No one has to know. Sweet goddess! I do not even know who you are. I do not know your name, and I might not even remember your face when I wake up tomorrow." That was a lie. Neriah knew for sure, she wasn't going to forget the man so quickly. She would probably remember him for the rest of her life. How could she forget the face of the man who has touched her in different ways in just one night. How could she forget the face of the man whose mere voice sent sweet shivers down her spine.

Oh sweet lords! She would never forget him. Not his face, nor his lips, his kiss, nor his touch. She would never forget. And she would definitely never forget the passion he was able to evoke in her. Oh lords! This stranger is something.

"I will not talk about you at all. I will tell the princess that I could not find Prince Barak in the castle, that he had gone out for some reason. Just let me go. You do not really want to touch me."

There was another moment of silence between them both. The only sound that was heard was the little, low crackle of the burnt wood trying to ignite fire again, and the heavy breathing of the two of them. Mostly Neriah's, for it seemed she was fighting a bull.

"You are wrong," he suddenly says, "I do really want you." He confesses. And Neriah dragged in a pleading breath. The man was mad. He was taking closer steps to her even though she still held her dagger in front of her.

"In fact, in all my life," it seemed like he breathed, but Neriah wasn't sure if he did. What she was sure of was that, when he chose to be, he was fast. Really fast. For he was standing right before her, and her dagger was gone from her hand. And now she was at his mercy, in his arms, his fingers trailing down her face, her lips that were now swollen due to his fearsome kiss. He was staring down at her, and lords, she hated to feel this way. Like a desperate young girl who has never been kissed before, she was expecting his lips.

"I have never wanted anyone or anything as much as I want you tonight." and his lips came upon hers again.

Oh, the way he could make her lose her mind, the way he could make her lose her sense of reasoning. The way his kiss made her forget who she really was, and who he was. The way his hand tickled her nape where he held her, and made her weak and vulnerable. Oh lords, the way he commanded and compelled, coerced and coaxed. She had never known anyone like him.

But he suddenly pulled away from her. "Know this," he stared deep into her eyes. "I really do want you. I am certain you know that it would be hard for any man to resist you. But I will cease from touching you now." He said and in that same moment, his hands were off her body, and he was already standing two feet away from her.

Neriah's eyes widened. Was that it? All she had to do was sincerely negotiate_or something like that.

Her mother always told her that words go a long way, and that sometimes all a nation at war has to do is remove the S from sword, and the world will be a peaceful place. Was this what her mother meant by that?

"You are going to leave me?" she asked. Maybe it was a stupid question, maybe she should have just bolted out of the door when he told her to, but she asked anyway, and she awaited a response.

"Would you rather we make love?"

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