Chapter Twenty-Seven
Peytor
My boots clacked against the exposed stone for two paces before I turned and strode in the opposite direction, my steps muffled by the thick red rug that covered the majority of the floor in Folami’s and my bedroom.
Back and forth I paced, my strides rapid and sharp, hands raking through my hair, as I waited for Folami to return fromhisroom.
Just the thought of the affable Pleasure Mage was enough to annoy and arouse. Even now, my cock twitched against the confines of my pants in response to the dual male chuckles—one deep and undulating, the other slightly husky and quieter—that bled through the thin wall separating our room from theirs. Disgust once again filled my veins at my body’s reaction to just their voices.
Why, after all this time, were they the first men my cock took an interest in?
With a growl of frustration, I shook my head and strained to listen to their conversation through the adjoining wall. I couldn’t quite hear Folami’s response to their mirth, or what even elicited that reaction, but I could tell the normal sharpness of her voice was absent. Not for the first time, I cursed the fact that I was a Vessel and not a Mage.
What I wouldn’t give for the ability to hear through that wall.
White-hot jealousy coursed through my veins as I thought about her with them; thought about them making her laugh, easing past her defenses.
It took me months—months—to get to a place where she trusted me with her softness, felt protected and seen enough to let those walls crumble.
Lex and Ilyas destroyed them within a matter of days.
Inadequacy and insecurity twined closely with the jealousy. My skin crawled as nausea rose at the thought of sharing her laughs and quiet with someone else.
What if she picks them? What if I am no longer what she wants?
The thought cut me to the core.
Losing Finian was one of the worst moments of my life, but losing Folami and, consequently, Itanya? That would utterly destroy me.
The tempo of my steps increased in response to my agitation. Sweat beaded against my skin, sticking my normally loose tunic to my back, but still I paced.
I swallowed against the sudden dryness in my throat, aggressively willing my agitation to dissipate.
Folami’s soft voice filtered through the wall again, followed by the low murmurs of the two males, before I heard the softclickof the door to the adjacent room.
Abruptly, I halted my pacing, anticipating Folami walking through our door to see the wildness I couldn’t contain.
The last thing I wanted was to push Folami away, for her to think I was insecure in our connection.
Other men aren’t the issue; the problem is thatMageis her True Bond and can offer her something I never can.
I pulled at the roots of my hair just as our door swung softly open. Folami lightly stepped through with a small smile on her face.
My gut sank at her vulnerable expression, and my shoddy attempt at reducing my jealous insecurities to a mere simmer was already abandoned.
“Did you have fun?” I asked, my question and tone much more caustic than I originally intended.
Immediately, Folami’s expression fell, her soft smile replaced by the hardened look she wore as the rebellion’s general.
Shit.
Her amber eyes flinted as she closed the door, hands and arms held loose at her sides, almost as if she was preparing for a fight.
Her physical reaction to my frustration was a direct punch to the gut.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, my shoulders dropping as the adrenaline waned. “I’m . . . I just don’t know how to handle this right now.”
Folami flinched slightly as I reached toward her, and I felt my heart crack in half. My hand froze in midair before I slowly drew it back to my side, careful not to fist it lest Folami think I would strike her.
