FOREVER KNIGHTS: #7 King of Assassins
SAVAGE JAXSON - What Was That About?

SAVAGE JAXSON

“What was that about?” Dimurah asked. Watching Savage’s approach with a skeptical eye. “I was interested in what he was saying.”

That’s the problem.

“I heard that.”

“Why do you get so jealous?”

Jealous?

He sighed. “I wasn’t jealous, Dimurah. I worry about you.” He said plainly.

Dimurah stirred a brewed liquid in a small wooden cup.

He gave her a coaxing look. Sticking out his bottom lip in a feigned pout.

Sighing dramatically, she handed the cup over and began mixing a second one for herself.

This one was for me anyway. He knew.

She usually made it in the evenings. Knowing he had problems sleeping at night. Sleep Duster she calls it.

She handed him a spoon and he slowly stirred it.

Awful is what I call it.

It tastes like squirrel piss.

But it was part of their nightly ritual.

So, he pretended to enjoy every sip. Against every fiber of my being. He thought ruefully.

It’s one way I get time with her. Which made it worth it.

Now that the Haven was closed for the night, she removed the green cloak.

As she always does.

Folding it over her arm and setting it on the counter. She drew a rag from under the wooden top and began to scrub the splintered surface.

Her breasts plunged against the pale blue dress she wore.

One I found for her at the Traders’ Market. It laced up the back, so it fit even her extreme curves.

His eyes trailed over all her rounded fullness hungrily. Things had been less complex before she took over Winter Haven. And started becoming annoyed with everything I do.

“How about you tell me then why you killed that man tonight?” She coaxed. Voice going husky.

The voice she uses when she wants something from me.

He put the cup to his lips briefly to buy some time. Awful stuff.

Though some of the assassins had a taste for it, Savage wasn’t one of them. It tastes like every herb I can’t stand in one cup.

Delightful. He thought ruefully. Staring into it as he tried not to think about the flavor stinging his tongue.

“Murah, for the most part I can keep things within these walls simple for you.” He gestured around. “There is good and bad. Right and wrong. And I can keep you safe from the complexities of the outside world.”

“Alright?” She prompted. Delicate brows furrowing in confusion.

“But on occasion, other things do seep in…”

“Other things?”

“Things that’d hurt you, Murah.”

“Do you remember bringing me here, Jaxson?”

He tilted his head at her in assent.

“You saw me with the trader that day.”

“It wasn’t one day, Murah.” He sighed. Stirring his drink again. Reluctant to recall what he’d seen.

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