NaNo Day 36

A couple of hundred yesterday, a couple of hundred today.  I finally finished that scene I hinted about with the wounded Blood.  I’m not sure if it’ll stay or not, but I’m moving on.  During the drive home tonight, I tried to visualize how this next scene should play out, and I don’t have it yet.  If I can’t see it in my head, I can’t write it.  I may have to skip it for now.  The logistics are…challenging. 

Today and Yesterday:  1,248

NaNo Total:  78,603

Snippet:  Mykal pushes.  Shannari pushes back.  Scene starts in Shannari’s POV and then quickly shifts to Dharman’s.

As soon as her gaze touched him, Mykal surged forward.  He disregarded the blades at his throat and the rumbled warning from Dharman.  She scooped up the rahke and braced for full-scale war.

Crouched on all fours, Mykal lowered his head to the floor but kept his gaze locked on her.  He swirled his tongue against the white marble in long, open-mouthed licks and made a sound that sent shards of ice shrieking down her spine.  He licked every drop of her blood off the tile and it was not a man who stared at her, but the silver eyes of the Black Dragon.

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Two rahkes in the bastard’s [word choice may not be correct for Sha’Kae al’Dan] neck hadn’t stop him.  Dharman glared at Lew and Jahne both, but what could they do?  It might take force enough to kill the savage to control him, and they cared not to wound na’lanna Qwen’s heart.

Mykal sat back on his heels and licked his chops.  “Two more wounds for you to taste, brightheart.”

Her eyes flared, her breathing deepening automatically, seeking his accursed scent that she found so compelling.  He’d deliberately waited until she was aroused to remind her of his presence.

Tense, Dharman waited for a signal from her on how she wanted to proceed.  Would she disregard his years of service and the Blood hierachy simply to take this man to her bed?  

Casually, she walked toward the kneeling savage, her hips swaying seductively, her eyes glowing with desire.  Sick at heart, Dharman barely breathed.  He would still serve as First Blood, at least.  She wouldn’t take that from him.  No one else stood between her and whatever dark deed the Endless Night had commissioned this man to commit. 

She smiled, and the hair on Dharman’s neck prickled.  He’d bet his rahke that the savage was sweating.  She touched the ivory rahke to Mykal’s cheek, trailed it down his neck, and without a single muscle in her face or body betraying her, she jammed it to the hilt in his shoulder.

A painful wound, but not life threatening. 

“Now you have a third.”  She jerked the blade out and lifted it to her mouth.  Mykal hadn’t made a sound when she’d stabbed him, but when she began to lick the blade, he groaned deep in his throat.  “When my Blood tell you to stay put, you had best do so.  They may spare your life out of consideration for me, but I assure you, I won’t hesitate to kill you if I must.”