Free Bitter Ashes (Bitter Ashes Book 1) by Sara C. Roethle Page B

time,” Alaric announced. He was dressed in gray sweats and no shirt. I would have felt more comfortable if he was wearing a shirt, but I knew that if I said anything, he would only tease me. His long black hair was tied back in a low ponytail, making his dark eyes stand out.
    “I don't think this is a good idea,” I began.
    I had been waiting in my room, already dressed in my own workout attire of black yoga pants and a matching sports bra, but now my nerves were kicking in.
    “Of course it is,” he replied happily as he grabbed my hand and pulled me up off the bed.
    We hesitated for a moment as he held my hand, and I almost thought that he might kiss me again, but then he simply led me out of the room. I trailed behind him with a nervous flutter in my heart.
    It had been like that the past few days, ever since he'd kissed me while his mouth still dripped with the blood of a man whose throat he'd bitten out. I wasn't sure if I even wanted him to kiss me again. The sight of him spitting out the gob of flesh that had once been a man's windpipe was a bit unsettling. More unsettling still, was the fact that I had enjoyed the bloody kiss afterward.
    We left my room to find James waiting for us in the hallway. I found the golden-haired, handsome man way more unsettling than anything else put together, and that was really saying something.
    The look in his extremely pale blue eyes was friendly enough, but I knew better. I might have been the clan's executioner, but James was the questioner. He was the one that tortured men and women until they were weak enough for me to easily relieve them of their lives. Some might argue that what I did was the greater evil, but at least I didn't enjoy it. James very much enjoyed his job. 
    “What are you doing here?” I asked, sincerely hoping that he wasn't planning on joining us.
    James laughed. “Like I would miss the little mouse receiving her first lesson in combat.”
    “Just be careful that she doesn't turn her training on you,” Alaric commented. “You might have all of the torture techniques, but Maddy has the follow through.”
    James looked down at me smugly. “I'm okay with follow through. Be sure you save some of it for this evening.”
    “This evening?” I asked, trying to hide how nervous I felt at the prospect of having to work with James.
    “We have another traitor in our midst,” he said ominously.
    I felt like I wanted to cry. Another traitor. The last traitor had looked into my eyes while I stole his life away. His last thought had been of never again seeing the one he loved. I had felt every excruciating moment of it. His pleading eyes had visited me in my nightmares every evening since. 
    James watched as the emotions played across my face, then seemingly satisfied, turned and walked away. Alaric glared after him.
    I tugged on his hand, but he kept glaring, deep in thought. I could feel the edges of his anger burning lines across my skin like tiny flames.
    “I'm sensing some sort of rivalry there,” I observed.
    Alaric still didn't look at me. “No rivalry,” he corrected, “just moderate hatred.”
    “How can hatred be moderate?” I questioned as we began walking again. “Hatred is the extreme.”
    He finally looked over at me, expression unreadable. “That's not true. There are many different types of hatred. I doubt you've felt any of them.” 
    I stopped and put my hands on my hips. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
    Alaric turned to me, still looking angry, then his expression softened. “I meant it in a good way. You don't seem to be the grudge-holding type. Hatred gets you nowhere, but even knowing that, it's difficult to avoid.”
    He was right about me not holding grudges, but I still didn't like the accusation. “I'm still angry about being kidnapped,” I offered. “That's a grudge.”
    “Yes,” he replied, “but you're also still cooperating. You could have tried to flee when we were attacked, but you came back to help