Her eyes snapped open. It took her only a few seconds before she spotted a warbler on one of the branches.
“There it is!”
Her jaw softened in awe, but she immediately felt exhausted.
Valenden yawned as he let go of her hands and wiped his palm down his face. He, too, suddenly looked tired. “Congratulations, princess. Now, I’m going to close my eyes for five minutes. Wake me when it’s time to get back on the road.”
Bryn turned to Rangar as she hummed with excitement. “That was incredible. I truly felt it—” She, too, stifled a yawn.
“That’s the price of the amplifier spell,” he explained, lightly pinching her chin to indicate her yawn. “No magic comes without cost. Most require skill and study, and of course, scarification. But pooling our efforts to serve the amplifier spell leaves its casters depleted.”
“Youdon’t seem tired.”
He snorted. “When you’ve been a soldier going on five nights of no sleep and daily combat, finding a bird isn’t too depleting.” He took her hand, glancing at the napping Valenden. “Walk with me.”
As they strolled along the icy stream bank, he told her more about how spells that required more than one caster worked and what toll they demanded in return. They discussed Bryn’s apprentice training and how she might balance it against the realm’s needs for her as the future queen. They passed a thicket of reddish-brown ferns that Bryn recognized from one of the books in the mage library.
“Oh, water sprite ferns!” She fell to her knees and brushed snow off the ferns. She turned one over to reveal dark red spores. “Ren told me about these.”
She broke off a few ferns, wrapped them in a handkerchief, and then tucked them into her blouse. She was thrilled over identifying the fern, but when Rangar helped her back to her feet, the frown on his face made her smile fade. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
He lowered his voice. “Do you truly not wish to fall pregnant?”
“Oh, Rangar.” She pinched the bridge of her nose as she groaned. “I told you. I do wish to carry your child, only when the time is right . . .”
“That’s not what I mean,” he said, smoothing a gentle hand down her curls. “If you feel that way, we should take more care with how we pleasure one another. I wouldn’t have filled you with my seed if I knew that wasn’t what you wanted.”
“Rangar.” She hissed for him to be silent as she glanced back toward the meadow where Valenden napped, embarrassed by his straightforward talk. Her cheeks burned brightly. She whispered, “I told you I’ll speak to Ren about the tea to prevent pregnancy.”
“We won’t always be at Barendur Hold.” His fingers curled at the base of her neck as a fire sprang into his eyes. “With Ren and his tea.”
Her heartbeat sped as she recognized that lusty look in his eyes. Giving him a stern look, she said, “What, you plan to bed me at Higharbor Keep?”
“No,” he purred. “I plan to bed you right here.”
Her jaw parted, and she couldn’t quite find the words to speak. She sputtered, “We’re in the middle of a journey. Prince Anter awaits us, and there are still hours to ride . . .”
“And Val is taking a nap.”
She heaved a sigh to express how impossible he was.
His hand slid around the back of her neck until he could curl her in closer. His other one traced over her curves until he had a handful of her thigh. He settled his mouth near her ear and said in a dangerously low voice, “All this talk of putting a baby in you has left me unable to think about anything else.”
She felt a ripple of desire pass through her as his breath grazed her ear. Her thigh tingled all around his touch. What was wrong with her for even considering this? They had a mission to accomplish. And Valenden was asleep just steps away!
“The whole point of our talk was that itisn’ttime for a baby . . .”
“I know. That’smypoint. That there are other ways to please one another. Now, kneel in the grass. Here, on my cloak.” His voice was husky, impatient.
Her eyebrows snaked up at the bold command. “I’m not so innocent that I don’t know what women do on their knees, Rangar.”
“Good. So do it.”
Aghast, she was about to tell him to drop to his own knees, but the look on his face made her reconsider. Rangar looked like he very well might take her up on it and put his tongue in places that would make her forget why they were even in the middle of a forest, and have her moaning loud enough to wake Valenden, and the warbler, and every animal in the forest while she was at it—including any wolves.
Narrowing her eyes, she sank onto her knees on the cloak. “So now that you’re my king, I can’t refuse you? Is that what this is about?”
“No, my love, it’s about sticking my cock between your pretty lips.”
