She fell into a restless sleep as the fire burned brightly around her.Her last coherent thought was that she wished she’d been bold enough to ask him to stay.
* * *
The cold woke her from vivid dreams.
Cecelia blinked groggily, trying to get her bearings, and a violent shiver racked her.Looking out the hazy window above the fire pit, she saw it was still pitch black outside, still nighttime.The fire just beneath it had died down to a few embers.
She’d dreamed of Rixavox, of his warm skin, of his addicting scent.For a moment, she thought that he was there with her because the dreams had felt soreal.But the space beside her was empty, the linens cold to the touch.
Cecelia’s eyes tracked to the metal door leading out to the hallway.Maybe it was the dreams or the cold or because she regretted the awkward tension between them earlier, but she pushed up from the bed, shivering as she gathered a few furs around her shoulders.The stone floor beneath her feet stung like ice as she padded out into the hallway, the door silently swishing open and closed behind her.
The living room’s fire was just as dull as her own and she figured it had been several hours since she’d fallen asleep.In the low, golden light, she saw Rixavox’s form.He was on his back, sprawled out among the cushions in the fire pit, his broad chest rising and falling.
The moment she stepped into the fire pit, he woke immediately, his hand automatically reaching for what she realized was ablade, tucked close to his body.
Cecelia froze and it was only when Rixavox saw it was her standing there, that he cursed softly, his hand releasing it.
“Luxiva,” he murmured, his voice guttural and husky with sleep.“Mexirava ta vira, vellixa.”
He didn’t seem to realize that his words were Luxirian and not English, but Cecelia relaxed, feeling their meaning, the apology in his tone.She remembered him talking about being a warrior and a war general for his people.
Warrior.She hadn’t truly thought about what that word meant, what its implications were, but now she wondered what things he’d seen, what he’d experienced to make him reach for a blade without second thought when he’d been jarred from sleep.
“It’s okay,” she whispered, kneeling down beside him, the furs dragging around her.
Rixavox regarded her with heavy-lidded eyes and he reached out to touch her cheek.He said something else in Luxirian, but Cecelia smiled softly, shaking her head.
“I don’t understand you, honey,” she whispered, feeling a powerful affection well up in her as she stared down at him.His eyes were impossibly dark in the low light.
He finally translated.“A dream,” he murmured softly.“A trick of the mind.Of the Fates.”
Cecelia furrowed her brow, not understanding his meaning.He was tired, she realized.She wondered when he’d last gotten a full night’s rest.
Slowly, she leaned down and brushed her lips over his cheek.His skin felt smooth and warm under her lips.
“Sessela?” he murmured, blinking up at her when she leaned back.Clarity returned.He started to lean up on the elbows, but she smoothed a hand down his chest, pushing him back down.“What is wrong?”
“Nothing,” she whispered.“Can I sleep here with you?”
Rixavox looked down at the furs bundled around her shoulders, but without waiting for his answer, she sank down among the cushions next to him and spread out.
His rumbling purr made her smile into the cushions and she felt his arms immediately come around her, pulling her into his body.She sighed happily, nuzzling her cheek into his warm chest, her limbs beginning to thaw against him.
“You feel so good,” she murmured softly.They were pressed so tightly together that she felt him hard and erect against her belly.Instead of the sharp, aching arousal from earlier, her arousal right then was soft, sensual.Nothing would happen between them that night, but it felt nice.Her entire body felt full and warm and lush because of it.
His lips moved against her temple.“Frixavir.”
One of his horns rubbed against her hair, up and down, up and down, and she let out a soft breath, liking the sensation.
Sleep reclaimed her shortly.
FOURTEEN
“I love this place,” Sessela told him from her place in theRillirax, nude underneath the water, both a distraction and a pleasure.She’d made him turn around to stare at thefacevwalls again as she undressed.Needless to say, Rixavox’s cock had been as hard as the mountain they were inside since he’d laid eyes on hisluxiva.Even in sleep, he had no reprieve.
It was their second night at the sacred pool and Rixavox’s Instinct was emerging more readily with every passing moment.It was becoming a chore to keep it calm, keep it restrained, but he would for his female’s sake.
I must, he corrected.
