I shuddered when it finally began to fade.
Amaia was spread out on the bed before me, her breath heaving,her eyes wide. A sheen of perspiration made her skin glisten. Her hair was a wild tumble beneath her head.
I felt a swell of deep affection settle into my chest, too exhausted to feel wary about it.
“Kiss me,” she whispered.
I lowered down on my shaking arms, feeling her clench around my cock. So out of my mind for her that I’d spilled myself deep inside and hadn’t even realized it until now.
And I knew that she’d worked me over so thoroughly because I didn’t even have it in me tocare.
I poured a lot into that kiss. It was both soft and hard, punishing and sweet. I breathed her in, our magic tangible, like it covered our skin and we were spreading it between us.
Whatever had just happened…I feared that I was already addicted.
To her too.
Guess I don’t need pain to find pleasure,I thought.
And I fell into a dreamless sleep.
Chapter 28
AMAIA
Another week, another trip to the cropland,I thought, gritting my teeth against the strain of the basket of hatchling feed. This particular batch stank even more than the last.
Even though I’d woken this morning feeling untouchable, the high from last night had slowly descended into a brooding mood. When Syris, Moak, and I had reached the farmstead, expecting to see Brune, we’d been informed by one of the tillers that he’d been sent away from his duties. Nysa and his son, who Brune had been assigned to live with, didn’t want him under their roof any longer after what Ryak had done.
As such, I’d learned that Brune was living with Ethrisha but was evidently keeping a low profile around the village until it was a certain decision about his return to Dakkar.
The snickering stares as I lugged the feed back up the pathway, past the rider acolytes—Nevinnotamong them, making me think that he, too, had been driven from his post—and through the roads of Grymia, only added to my mood.
“Ignore them,” Syris panted, glaring at a small group of younger Karag who made snide remarks as I passed, laughing when I turned my back.
It didn’t stop there, however. As we rounded the corner near the washing house, a steam-filled dwelling solely for laundry, one of the workers outside spat as I passed. Actuallyspat. I was so shocked, his spit narrowly missing my boot, that the feed bucket nearly tumbled from my hand when I tried to swing back.
“What’s wrong with you?” Syris hissed out at the stranger, surprising me because she was not someone who liked to be confrontational. But she was mad, her yellow eyes spitting fire. Her bucket dropped as she put her hands on her hips and glared.
“Whoa, whoa,” Moak said. He pushed between the Karag male and Syris when she stepped up to him. “Hold on there,” he murmured down to Syris, his brow raising in what I thought was intrigue. “As much as I would love to see you take him on, I don’t think you’ll be happy about it when the dust settles, all right?”
“And it’s not your fight,” I added quietly. “Just leave it alone, Syris.”
She pushed Moak’s hands away. “Fine. I’m just tired of…of…small-minded, judgmental bastards like him who think it’s okay to spit at anyone.”
“They fucking deserve it,” the male said, glaring. “They don’t belong here.”
“What’s going on?” came a familiar voice, calling out from down the pathway. An angry voice, cutting and sharp.
When I turned, I saw Alaryk, Myzalla, and another male that I knew was one of his riders, heading toward the landing field. Dresnar was his name, if I remembered correctly.
The washhouse male tilted his chin up. “Nothing,Karath. Nothing at all.”
“I highly doubt that,” he said, breaking away from the others to approach, his strides quick.
Alaryk’s gaze cut to mine, and I felt it whittle me down to bone, like he could see everything I was feeling. How could he do that?
But I was looking straight back at him. When he stood anarm’s length away, I was reminded of the tingling between my thighs. Remnants from the night before, like my body had been held suspended on the precipice too long. I hadn’t seen him since last night, which likely also accounted for my brooding mood. I’d swung my head to try to spy him in Grymia, my cheeks flushing at Syris’s teasing. I’dwantedto catch the merest glimpse of him. It was alarming how quickly he’d settled into my mind, a permanent fixture.
