A Ruin of Roses (Deliciously Dark Fairytales #1)(32)

A vein pulsed in his jaw. His eyes bored into mine for a tense moment. It took everything I had to force my animal down.

“You’ll want to stay away from me,” he said in that voice out of a nightmare. “I was not lying—I will ruin you. I will destroy your virtue. I’ll taint your goodness.”

Why did part of me want that so badly? What were these crazy desires this man was bringing out in me?

I clenched my jaw so tightly my teeth hurt. I believed his threat, and I didn’t want to set him off. I didn’t want him to flood me with another burst of power. I didn’t know if I could stop myself from giving in.

His eyes roamed my face before he finally nodded. With a stiffness belying the state he was in, he turned and walked farther into the everlass field. He ran his fingers through his hair, rendering it more unruly.

I let out a breath and turned the other way. I needed to get my bearings.

Hadriel stood back with Leala, a picnic set up and waiting. Even from a distance, I could see the worry on both of their faces. A memory of the night before floated up—Nyfain grabbing my neck and yanking me to him, demanding information I was not willing to provide. He clearly had an incredible temper.

If only that was what I was worried about.

Once again under control, I turned back around. He was working through the field again, checking the plants and pruning as he went. His graceful movements looked like a well-practiced dance. He didn’t just pull away dying or flagging leaves, either. He fluffed up the plants, touching them almost tenderly before moving on, giving an extra bit of love and attention.

“Does that work?” I asked, working closer. “The random touches as you go?”

He glanced back before continuing on. “I don’t know, honestly. This knowledge was passed down. I didn’t question it.”

“I can test it, if you like.”

He straightened up, straddling one of the rows. The sun beat down on his wide shoulders as he glanced out over the field. “Do as you will. I want you to make that…nulling elixir, you called it. I want you to drink it first, to make sure it isn’t poison. Then I want to distribute it to a few people to see if it really works.”

“Please,” I said.

He glanced my way. “It’s an order, not a request.”

“And if it weren’t going to save people, I would tell you to shove your order up your dickhole.”

Surprisingly, he smiled. “We aren’t going to get along, Finley.”

My name in his voice flowed over my body. I shivered, now incredibly annoyed again.

“I think that was a given as soon as you took me prisoner,” I replied.

“It was a given long before that.” He worked his way back toward me. “You say you need to harvest at night?”

“Yes. Midnight seems to work best.”

“Have you tried three o’clock? That’s when the demons are strongest. If you say the elixir works better when harvested at night because of their magic, then three o’clock would be the optimal time.”

I pulled my lips down in thought. “Good tip. I don’t really know much about demons.”

“Then you didn’t…tangle with them in your village?” he growled, as though the very thought of me intimately touching a demon enraged him.

I frowned, no clue why he’d care. Maybe just an all-around hatred of them, which I completely understood.

“No,” I said, wandering the field and looking at the various plants. I wanted to choose the ones I’d harvest from. “Speaking of, does this place have an herb garden? I want to make the draught that nulls the incubi’s magic.”

“What did you say?” That got his attention.

I huffed out a laugh. “Hadriel was excited to hear that as well. That and the coffee replacement. All this time on your hands, and none of you thought to experiment? I developed that demon draught almost immediately after turning sixteen. Those bastards came on strong. I didn’t want to accidentally get caught out too late and run into one. What a thing to lose your virginity to.”

I made a sound like yuck.

“Not all of us have the gift of healing.”

His tone was somber with traces of sorrow and a hint of pride. I glanced up to gauge his expression, but he had turned away, wandering the field.

“Right, well, if you have an herb garden, I can make enough of that for everyone, if you want. Whoever wants it. If there’s enough supplies, obviously.”

“You are very giving in your antidotes.” Again that somberness. That sorrow.

“Maybe I’m just trying to poison everyone.” After a few moments of quiet, I let curiosity get the better of me. “Do you tend this field on your own? And the one in the Forbidden Wood?”

“Mostly. There is one gardener left on the grounds. He helps where he can.”

“Who taught you to work the plants? Not books, I imagine.”

“My mother,” he said softly.

He’d done a nearly perfect job with these plants. They were all happy and healthy. They’d make a very strong nulling elixir, except that we didn’t have any rainwater collected. I’d have to figure out a different way.

First things first—harvesting.

“I haven’t noticed any correlation between the demons’ strength and the various moon cycles, have you?” I asked as I stopped near a struggling plant. I crouched down, studying it, resting my forearms on my knees.