The Reaper's Wicked Obsession
Chapter 115: Almadra Should Be Pleased (1)

Chapter 115: Almadra Should Be Pleased (1)

Isadora tried to steady her breathing, her eyes glued to the Smithy, located at the highest levels of the mountain just a few feet away from Kraven’s chambers.

The sound of striking steel could be heard from inside, and it only made Isadora more nervous, knowing he was inside.

She didn’t want to see him. She hated him for leaving her like that, making her beg and reducing her to something desperate and wanting.

It wasn’t fair that her heart kept pulsing profusely at the thought of seeing him. The heat pooled low in her stomach, and her nerves worked her to the bone.

The ache between her legs turned into a mix of sensations she couldn’t keep up with.

Going in there would mean being alone with him. She didn’t know how well she would fare at that proximity.

"Go on, we don’t have all day," Logi said bored, leaning against the wall with folded arms. "Don’t forget you’re a warrior now and you need to report to the training ground. You don’t want to be late on your first day."

Isadora looked over her shoulder, noting how amused he was than she wanted him to be. He was the reason she was here in the first place—she had to see him first after such an encounter last night.

Turning her head back to the Smithy, she walked closer, her legs heavy and the sting between them was more painful than it had been.

But she feared for her poor heart, she wouldn’t be surprised if it leaped out of her chest due to how fast it raced.

’Calm yourself down, Isa,’ she mentally scolded. She had faced a terrifying reptile in a battle for life and death.

’Facing Kraven is nothing.’

Using that as a little bit of courage, she stepped into the Smithy. Her pale amber eyes took in the spacious place, the sunlight slipped in from the opening just a few feet away, the strong wind blowing through.

Isadora kept her eyes on the sun, it was always a rare thing to see here, and she always welcomed the energy it brought to her body.

Dragging her gaze away, she took in the place, tools she didn’t know of, made and unmade swords of different kinds.

The smell of smoke was intense, and it was hot.

Seeing all these caused her to wonder if he made them all. Does this mean the weapon he gave her, he made them?

Warmth heated her chest at the realization. It was perfect for her, he had made them down to the last detail. But then guilt suddenly gnawed at her because she lost them when she fought the Snákr.

The sound of ringing steel gripped her focus, her eyes veering to a shirtless Kraven, and her breathing hitched.

She took in the view of his bare back—ridges muscles, his broad frame, marred with runic tattoos, sweat trailing down his golden brown skin.

The way his muscles flexed with each strike against the steel must be studied because the gods were playing tricks with her.

Why would they create such a Fae and expect her not to drool?

"Almadra," she mumbled, calling to the Allmother of all births—for molding such a creation to walk this earth.

He was massive, she had known this before but...

Isadora swallowed a lump in her throat, trying to tear her eyes away but it was impossible.

The view was greatly tempting and the pulse between her legs made her wonder if she needed to pee or dissolve.

Isadora shook her head, killing whatever shameless thoughts had danced their way into her head.

What was wrong with her?

’Hate him.’ she enforced, collecting herself and putting up a stern face.

She cleared her throat, hoping to get his attention, but it didn’t work, his eager strikes ringing through the air. She had a feeling he had spent a long amount of time here.

Isadora took steps closer, stopping just a few feet away from him. It was hotter, because of the forge.

"Lord Raven."

Kraven paused instantly, looking over his broad shoulder as a frown took over. "Don’t call me that." He turned back to his work.

She gulped as the silence grew awkward, only to be broken by the hiss of the blade quenching.

"Logi," she began. "...Is my lapdog."

"And?"

Why was he speaking that way? That indifferent tone again. Isadora didn’t know what she expected but it was not this.

She clenched her fist. "Kraven."

He ran a hand through his hair but didn’t turn to he. He simply grabbed the tongs to turn the blade dipped in cooling water.

Isadora got more furious than she wanted to be, channeling the pain of him leaving her behind in the lonely corridor, after making her body yield to him.

"I do not need a lapdog!"

"A wager was made, love."

"But I can’t have him following me around, I don’t like him."

A smile tipped at the corner of Kraven’s lips, against his better judgment, he turned and leaned against the table, his hands gripping the edges tightly at his sides.

A means of control.

"Then you better get used to it. It’s what he deserves for challenging my authority. He has always been a greedy and annoying thing. Life as a dog will teach him right." Kraven rumbled on but the girl had lost focus.

Her wide eyes fixated on his chest as if she hadn’t seen it before. Her cheeks flushed and the heat in her eyes mirrored his own.

"See something you like, love?" Kraven asked, in a teasing tone.

Isadora quickly moved her gaze back to his eyes, the silver orbs were far worse than she thought, it reminded her of last night.

How it glowed in desire, watching as she shattered against him.

"I...I..." she couldn’t form her words correctly. Her mouth lost function the same way her brain did.

The look in Kraven’s eyes darkened as the little bit of control he held onto slipped. He closed the distance between them within a blink of an eye.

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