I close my eyes, but sleep is impossible now.
All I can think about is the warmth of his body against mine, the rough-silk sound of his voice in my dream, and the way his glow brightened like a star going nova the moment I came.
And behind me, wrapped around me like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he lets go, Sarven sleeps on.
Unaware.
Probably.
Hopefully.
I lie there in the golden dark, heart pounding in time with the drip of the poisoned water, waiting for the inevitable moment he wakes up.
Chapter 13
SO, THAT'S WHAT THAT'S FOR
SARVEN
Iam awake.
And I am in agony.
The dream fades, leaving only the ghost of her taste on my tongue and a very real, very painful problem between my thighs.
My member is straining against the pouch, swollen hard as a stone and throbbing with a dra-kirbeat of its own. It demands release. It demands her.
And Mih-kay-lah?
She is still in my arms.
Warm. Slack with sleep. Breathing softly.
And the scent?—
Dust.
Her scent is thick in the air now, rich and musky-sweet. It curls into my lungs with every breath, unmistakable.
I have only smelled this scent twice.
On the air outside Tharn’s alcove at dawn, when he and Jah-kee reek of satisfaction and cannot hide it. And clinging close to Jus-teen after she has spent a long, private time with Rok.
It is the scent of a female who has been claimed.
My whole body goes still.
My thoughts stumble, trying to assemble the pieces. My dra-kir kicks against my ribs.
Did she…did she dream it too?
Oh dust.
My member throbshard.
Do not move, I order my treacherous flesh.Do not poke her with your enthusiasm.
But the beast in my chest is howling. It wants to wake her up. It wants to press her into the stone and find out if she tastes as sweet in the waking world as she did in the shadow-walk.
