“If you don’t tell, I will,” Aidon chimes in from his spot beside Riven.
I squint. “What about you? Care to share a story?”
“No way. I’m not entertaining you.” Aidon’s voice is calm, but the steel beneath it is unmistakable, his eyes sharp enough to cut through any argument.
“Please?” I plead. I know nothing about him; it doesn’t seem fair.
“Don’t you want our Lady to be happy?” Riven asks, grabbing Aidon by the arm. The sheer determination in his moon-kissed orbs makes me shiver.
I definitely want that Dragthrall harem.
Please. I want to know you,I whisper on our private channel.
“I suppose one story won’t hurt.” Aidon shrugs the hand off his shoulder, meeting the General’s gaze, who in turn holds his stare without yielding.
Nulok reaches to offer him mead, the other hand gripping the message orb.
I almost regret that we don’t have any Fae wine. It was a ‘silent’ condition—no wine on the journey. I’ve never felt so humiliated as when Riven stopped me from packing bottles. He studied me with an intensity that made me shrink back, reminding me that I wasn’t allowed to lean on my old crutch.
“We’ll drink after the journey,” he said, and I couldn’t say a damn thing, because arguing would only prove how dependent I’d become on that rush.
“Instead of my boring story, I think we’d all rather hear about that time you tried to send us to the Fool’s Festival.” Aidon’s voice tugs me back to the present.
“Did she now?” Riven’s dense black brow arches, doing wicked things to my lower stomach, especially when his wings twitch at the same time.
I wonder how they work in bed.
Aidon’s wicked grin is the only indication he overheard that thought.
“Oh, she definitely did. Look at the blush on her already rose skin,” Jestin chimes in, sipping the mead, a half smile dances on his lips.
“I can project some of her colourful insults for you.” Aidon offers.
Riven and Jestin exchange looks.
“No doubt in my mind it was creative, but tell me, have you seen anything naughtier?” Jestin answers in a conspiratorial tone, “I would pay handsomely for it.”
“I am not going to entertain you,” Aidon says, clearly insulted.
“A real Fae would find out for himself.” Riven’s silver orbs drill into mine, as if he’s promising he’ll uncover the truth.
My answering smile is nothing if not an invitation.
“I’mhungryfor her. You would be too if you had a taste.” Jestin goads Riven, throwing the fact that I’ve been in his bed in his face.
Riven only smiles, all teeth and danger.
“Ouch, that was low,” Aidon giggles.
Wow. What am I hearing?
Aidon glances back, his smile crooked and full of mischief. “Would you like me to show them what you were thinking about them, little minx? Would it turn you on?”
My jaw drops to the floor, dries out and turns to fucking dust. And I know I can tell it without cursing. But it wasn’t dust, it wasfuckingdust.
That’s how shocked I am.
“For all the big talk, My Lady, you are rather shy,” Riven says, his attention locked on me, unrelenting.
