“What?”
“Youbastard,” Hagen drawled to Draven. “You introduced her to the shit before me?”
“It wasn’t like that—“
“I see how much our friendship means, mate,” Hagen continued, and Aydra clapped her hand over her mouth to stop her laughter at Hagen’s supposed jealousy. “I can’t believe you—“
“It was occupational,” Draven argued.
“Occupational, my ass,” Hagen grunted.
“Wait—you don’t like Nadir?” Aydra wondered.
“Of course he does,” Draven grinned. “He’s his best friend.”
“He’s a shit,” Hagen huffed, shaking his head. His gaze washed out to the beach and then back to Aydra. “You see how much he loves me,” Hagen grunted. “Introduces his woman to the fucking fish first.”
“Mate—“
But Hagen ignored Draven’s chuckle as the Venari doubled over again, apparently realizing that he hadn’t laughed so much in months.
“Bastard,” Hagen grunted one last time before turning his attention to Aydra. “Tell us, Sun Queen. What quarters have you for us filth?” he asked with a nod to the rest of his people. “The smell is rotting off them. If the proper people are coming, we should collect ourselves, I guess.”
“Proper people?” Aydra frowned.
“He’s talking about the Honest,” Draven said as he pushed his disheveled hair off his face.
Aydra hopped down from the banister, realizing they were getting ready to disperse. “I assure you, the only proper people in this castle are the ones on the Council and my brother.”
Hagen grinned slyly at her. “Saying you’re not afraid of the dirt, Sun Queen?”
Aydra returned his smile, eyes darting all over him. “Wouldn’t you love to know?”
Rubbing his hands together, Hagen elbowed Draven and gave him a nod. “I like her,” he winked.
Draven sighed, smiling at Aydra, and his tongue darted out over his lips as he gave her a once over. “I bet you do.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
HER DRESS IN tatters, Nyssa picked it up from her floor with a smile on her face, watching as the last bit of light from the hall evacuated behind Falke’s exiting figure.
Flashes of Falke pushing her against the door filled her mind when it clicked shut. The pair had barely made it to her room before he was flush at her back, speaking words in her ear that she didn’t try to understand, his hands wandering over her stomach and to her breasts as he kissed her neck. And when they reached her door, she turned into him and pulled him down to her lips.
He had smelled like fire, dirt, and cold mountain air, and she could still smell it on her skin when she held the dress to her nose. She replayed the moment he picked her up in his arms and hauled her inside, pressing her against the door and letting her pull his shirt over his head.
He was quick. Rough. Lustful. Slightly aggressive.
Everything she’d ever been told a Blackhand would be.
His rugged beard had brushed against her soft inner thighs when he’d feasted on her—a little faster than she usually liked, but the memory of the way he’d held her breasts while she rode atop him and then held her legs in the air to finish had her thighs clenching again.
She had enjoyed it, and she would certainly enjoy it again, but not in the way she’d hoped to be enjoying a man who was not from her own realm. The romantic in her wanted—needed— to feel as though the person couldn’t breathe without her. She wanted to feel like she was coming back from the Edge after a passionate devouring. She wanted to scream because she could not hold it in. She wanted to feel…desired.
Nevertheless, she’d not been touched in weeks, and honestly, with all the new blood coming through the castle, she needed to get at least one out of her system.
Especially with the mention of the person whom everyone was telling her to stay away from, being so near.
Nyssa collected herself with a quick wash and brush of her hair before going to the wardrobe to find a new dress. She wondered what the attire for welcoming in the Honest and the Nitesh would be… They were meeting in the Throne Room, so perhaps a little better of a dress than the one she’d worn that morning.
