Extinction - Lisa Smedman [101]
"You knew that boy was a… an animal… thing."
"Yarno is harmless," Ryld said, returning Splitter to its sheath.
"He's a monster. Eilistraee has commanded us to clear this wood of vermin like him."
Ryld winced.
"He's a boy," he sighed. "Just a boy."
Halisstra shook her head, not understanding.
"Then why do you care if he lives or dies?" she asked.
Ryld opened his mouth, trying to find the words.
"Because he…" the weapons master fumbled, confused himself. "He reminds me of myself at that age."
"How is that possible? You're a drow, and he's…" Halisstra paused, uncertain what to call the boy.
"He's a 'werewolf,' " Ryld said, supplying her with the word. "And hunted. And frightened. Just like I was, once."
For a heartbeat or two, Halisstra stared into his eyes, and Ryld thought she had understood. Then she lifted her horn.
"He may look like a boy, but he's a monster," she said firmly.
"And you're a First Daughter," Ryld replied, grabbing Halisstra's hand. "Always one of the hunters-never one of the hunted. You never had to survive in the Stenchstreets."
Halisstra paused, and Ryld realized she might not know exactly what the Stenchstreets was.
"But you're a noble drow too," she said. "Aren't you?"
"I have no House," Ryld answered. "I never have."
He sighed, wondering what he was doing. Was he really choosing to stand against Halisstra-the woman he loved-for the sake of a boy he'd only just met. For a werewolf? What kind of drow was he?
The kind who remembered what it was like to be a small boy and frightened.
Ryld let go of Halisstra's hand.
"Summon the hunt then, if you must," he told her. "But know that, if you do, I'm leaving."
Halisstra's mouth gaped.
"You're asking me to choose between you," she said, "and my sacred duty to the goddess."
"I'm asking you to choose between what is wrong and what is right."
"Strange words, coming from the mouth of a drow." She stared off into the moonlit forest, hefting the horn in her hand. Then, slowly, she lowered it.
Relieved, Ryld took Halisstra's hand and bowed low over it, brushing the back of it with his lips.
"Thank you," he said.
Halisstra yanked her hand free-and for a terrible moment Ryld thought he was going to be chastised-but instead Halisstra lifted his chin and kissed him fiercely. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close.
Closing his eyes, Ryld felt her lips brush his ear-and heard a whisper so faint he was certain it hadn't been meant for him.
"Eilistraee, forgive me. I love him."
Then, taking him by the hand, she led him to the ancient ruin the priestesses had set aside as their shelter.
As soon as they were inside, she kissed him again. Her lips pressed into his with a fierceness uncharacteristic of her. They had kissed before, it was true, but not like that. All she had permitted him, before that night, were brief, almost chaste brushes of his lips against hers. Obedient male that he was, he had not dared ask for more. Bur that kiss… that was the kind of kiss his fantasies had been filled with. Eagerly, he returned it, barely keeping in check the hard, insistent heat that was threatening to overwhelm him.
"I want you," Halisstra said, breaking away from the kiss just long enough to gasp out the words. "I want to take you. Here. Now."
At these words, Ryld felt self-control slide completely from his grasp. Breathing rapidly-where had his warrior's training fled to?-he slid Splitter from his back and tossed the greatsword aside, then rapidly began shucking his armor.
Halisstra was stripping off her own armor and clothing, then she was kissing him again, one hand pressing against the back of his head, the other snaking tight around his waist, making the process of undressing even more difficult. For one panicked moment, Ryld had a vision of himself as a fly, caught in a spider's web. Halisstra's arms were tight around him, pulling him closer, her mouth devouring him. Her teeth bit passionately into his neck, then his chest, then the hard muscle of his stomach, and onward.