This little warrior won’t yield easily, a challenge I find alluring.
“Where would you like me to hold so I can lift myself?”
She blanches. In her haste to beat me onto Dahla, she didn’t account for her body now being in the way.
I grab the saddle horn anyways, my forearm laying across her thighs. The feeling of them flexing beneath me has my heart racing, and I focus the next moments on propelling myself upward and into the space behind her. With my free arm, I scoop her closer to my thighs, until she’s almost sitting on them.
“There’s only one way for this to work, little warrior,” I whisper into her ear, the languid words causing her spine to stiffen. “Together we’re too big for this saddle, so you must ride this close to me.” I feel her muscles flex again, as if she’s about to spring away from me.
Her arm moves to my arm that’s currently around her waist. Her delicate hand comes around my own, causing my skin to almost vibrate. With a slow pull, she moves it to the top of her thigh.
Fuck me. This feels like torture, or worse, condemnation.
“If we must ride this way, then you’ll have to keep your hands lower and not obstruct my midsection.” Her whisper is sliced with annoyance and my insides soar. I can’t tell if she knows how much her actions have turned my mind to chaos, or if she just would rather challenge me. Probably a little of both given what I’ve seen of this little asp.
“I would most definitely rather my hands be where they are now,” I whisper into her ear as if I could beckon her to let me move them lower.
Caym and Leeson spur their horses forward in a rush. Alora meets the urgency and gently taps Dahla. The horse responds and bounds forward, almost sending me toppling off backward. I grip Alora and hear a low chuckle escape her lips. She definitely wanted me to fall, again.
I knew my little warrior was feral, but I hadn’t expected her deviousness.
My mind turns thoughts around, the swirling of them consuming me. I can admit when I’m wrong, but this is something unexpected. The Hidden had been doing everything to make my life, and in turn King Euron’s, more difficult. I hadn’t blamed them, but I had failed to think of them as individuals, a shortcoming of my own callousness.
The wind whips her hair in my face, the soft brushes tickling my chin. The more time I spend in the company of these people, specifically her, makes me realize how much of myself I’ve lost under King Euron’s rule.
More than just my soulmate and my freedom, but pieces of myself as well.
But withher, I feel like those pieces start to stutter, begging to be sewn back together. It’s enough to break me because I’m not sure how much more I can stand to lose.
Chapter 15
Alora
It’s been three days of misery.
Three days where I’ve had him riding behind me, touching me.
Three days of a smoldering blaze that has my thighs tense and me aching.
The heavy snow had made our journey long as the trails were covered. Dahla could only move so far before we’d have to get off of her to clear the snow balls that formed on her legs and belly. The snow eventually turned to sleet, followed by unending rain. It is quite literally sludge we trudge through.
So it only makes sense that my mood is sour. I’m ready to be done with our journey and deliver this man to the council. I need to get him out of my system and be rid of his maddening presence.
He has started watching me more openly now when we’re not on Dahla. As we eat by the fires, while I talk with Lees and Caym, and when it’s just us alone in the early morning hours before the rest of the world wakes.
Even in my dreams I see his glimmering jade eyes, the pools so decadent I all but drown in them. He’s like the candle I know better than to touch, but do so anyway. The desire to feel the sting of the flame to see how long I can endure the pain, only to be swallowed by it entirely.
Gods I’m going crazy.
This energy between us is enough to keep me wound tight, causing a restlessness to course through my veins.
I worry the leather reins between my fingers, letting my mind swirl with thoughts of The Devourer. Lucid, wicked thoughts.
Today has been one of the longest days of our travels. The woods have done enough to spook all of us on more than one occasion—whether it be phantom whispers coming through the trees, the sudden silence that lasts far too long, or just the feeling of being followed, watched endlessly as we traverse the paths of the forest..
Lees has, more than once, circled back to see if we had anyone stalking us, only to report that there had been no signs of anyone.
The trees here are the oldest part of the Siltar Woods, the most ancient. Like great wardens of the forest, waiting for a chance to stomp us out if we so much as dare to linger too long.
