Much thanks to my seven reviewers. Y'all rock! I did a little happy dance after I read each review. They make me ecstatic! Alrighty then…on to where we left off with the romance of the necromancer and Sorielle.

"Who are you?' Sorielle asked. The necromancer looked at her grumpily through sleep-bleared eyes.

"A necromancer." He replied gruffly, sitting up.

"No, I mean…what is your name?" He looked at her, trying to figure out her motive. Seeing no apparent one, he shrugged.

"You may call me Jasaad." (A/N: pronounced Juh-sod)

"But it's not your name."

"No." he looked at her coldly, and then smiled. "So, Sorielle, love, you are finally realizing the inevitability of falling in love with me."

He came towards her.

"Never." She replied coolly. She looked down. "Where are we?"

"My humble abode." He spread his arms out with a flourish to indicate ownership.

"Which is where?"

"My, my, Abhorsen." He said. "You do ask quite a few questions, don't you?"

He kissed her on the cheek. Then, began to travel down her neck, her open collar… She whacked him on the top of his head with her tied-together hands. He pulled back a moment, then smiled. He used one hand to hold her wrists above her head, against the wall. The other hand he slipped around her tiny waist. He straddled her bound legs, and began kissing her lips (which she would not move), her chin, traveling down the front of her neck, her throat, her collarbone. He pulled her body close to him.

"No, no. Stop that. No…Oh. Ooh!" she protested dazedly, as he left his mark on her neck. He leaned back to admire his work. She looked at him with longing and lust. She trembled slightly, aware of how close they were.

"No one's ever done that to you before." He said knowingly.

"True." She murmured. "No! Of course it's been done. I'm the Abhorsen. I can have any man that I want."

"But you haven't."

"Yes, I ha-ha-have." She protested weakly as he left another mark on her collarbone. "Stop!" she said, choking on the word.

"Fine. I'll just get you some food."

"I'm not hungry." Her stomach growled loudly and she winced.

"The hell you aren't. You haven't eaten in three days."

"Three days?"

"I am not going to succumb and eat it." She muttered to her self as he left.

He returned with bread, cold meat, cheese, and some wine. Oh, I do hope its mulled wine. She thought dazedly, lightheaded from the hunger. The food was so tempting, but she couldn't give in. Never give in. She thought faintly. He used a butter knife to cut cheese and a piece of bread from the hearty loaf, and offered it to her. She shook her head vehemently. He waved it about in front of her nose, the aroma of the fresh cheese and the coarse, whole-grained loaf filling her nostrils, making her taste buds go insane.

"Charter damn you." She muttered and opened her mouth. He lifted the bread closer, and then pulled it away, teasing her. She glared at him briefly before he let her take an actual bite. She closed her eyes as she chewed, savoring the wholesome nourishment.

"Wine?" she asked, opening one eye. She swallowed the bread and cheese and opened the other one. He handed her the warm, earthen jug, allowing her to grasp it as best as she could with her bound wrists. She lifted it to her lips and drank deeply. The warm, spiced liquid traveled down her throat, warming her insides.

However, the small amount of food had awakened her full, monstrous hunger. She ate ravenously from Jasaad's hands. When she was finished, she looked up at him.

"Tell me, why was it that I woke up in your bed? In your arms?" she inquired suspiciously, raising an eyebrow.

"Because, love," He pulled her onto his lap, inducing an indignant squeal from Sorielle. "You are mine to have."

"I belong to no man."

"Think again, my dear." He said, and began to nibble upon her ear.

"Don't." she said in a warning tone. His lips brushed against the soft skin of her neck. "I said to stop." Her tone was icier than his eyes and colder than the North wind.

"No, my lovely, you must see…what there is between us." She sat stiffly on his lap, rigid and cold.

"Nothing. There is nothing between us and there never will be anything. I am an Abhorsen and you are a necromancer. My nature is of the warm Charter…and yours the corroding Free Magic. I-"

"Your life and mine are not so different. Free Magic still wreathes your be-spelled words."

"Yes, but unlike you, I am not corrupted by it. I use it to lay the dead to rest and you to raise them. I-"

"You are of the nature of Death, then, my Sorielle."

"I'm not yours!" she protested. He pulled her close to him and whispered in her ear.

"My nature is to bring the Dead to life. Life. And I will make you live as never before."

"No." she whispered. Then, spoke more firmly. "No! That is not their path. The Dead are not meant to walk in Life."

"Does the walker choose the path or the path choose the walker?" he quoted, planting a kiss on her cheek.

"That does not apply!" She attempted to throw herself off of him, and ended up in a heap on the cave floor. Jasaad looked at Sorielle with amusement in his eyes. He pulled her bound form close to him, standing up with her in his arms.

"Why do you resist, my love?"

She denied him and answer and tried to struggle. He held her so tightly that it felt that she would burst from lack of air. She gave a small whimper, a combination of fear and defiance, before she gave up.

"Fine, do what you will with me." He scooped her up abruptly and dumped her onto the pile of furs. He pinned her arms above her head with one hand and spoke a Free Magic command, releasing the bonds from her legs. He straddled her, putting his other hand on her ribs, beneath her left breast. She looked up at him, for once acknowledging her fate. No. Not like this. Not like this. She thought desperately. He's going to rape me. He said he'd do it and he will. What's going to happen to me after…

Jasaad stopped and looked into her eyes, eyes large with fear. Although the concept of a necromancer with morals was inconceivable, Jasaad felt that he could not do this to this woman. Some feeling tied to the back of his mind prevented him from ravishing this Abhorsen. A feeling stronger than lust, and power, unlike any emotion he'd ever felt before. No, he could not do this. They lay like that, him hunched over her, restraining her, for about a minute. The, he got up, brushed himself off and walked away. As he disappeared out of the doorway, Sorielle sat up. She wiped the tears out of the corners of her eyes, and closed her eyes. She stretched her legs out and sighed.

What happened? He was going to…and then he stopped. What made him stop? Bless the Charter that he did, but why? I have to get out of here before what almost happened, actually does. She thought resignedly. My bells. I must find my bells. She felt through her Death sense for the instruments of her path, wrought with Free and Charter Magic. She felt them faintly, and decided it was enough to go on.

Sorielle stood up shakily, and used her Death sense to guide her through the cave, through the darkness. She stumbled blindly, with no sense of direction, only driven by her insane desire to be free. She thought she heard a faint rushing noise, like the sound of the waterfall, but dismissed it as the sound of silence.

Her death sense twitched abruptly and she felt a dark presence grow closer. It's the necromancer! Jasaad! She panicked and began to run in the opposite direction of the presence. The rushing noise grew louder and the stones she stepped on rapidly grew wetter and more slippery. She felt the spray of an underground river too late; she attempted to stop, but slipped on the slick rocks and plunged into the raging rapids.

Ya-ha-ha! Cliffy! Cower before my evilness! Alright, don't cower, you can bow and kiss my feet instead. Fine, I'm joking, but could you please review? I would, like, give you Jasaad's shoe if you do. So go click on the lovely lavender button on the bottom of the page if you want to see what happens, or Jasaad's shoe. Toodles-Siren's Voice.