“Is there something you need,mi’ajna?” he asks.
Riah groans, and I think her eyes are about to roll into the back of her head. The female doesn’t seem the type to faint, but whatever he’d said to her before my arrival is certainly testing that theory.
“I just came to see what time Riah would like to meet for our morning training sessions,” I say, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“Thelieutenantwill not be—”
“Is seven too early?” I ask and she gapes when I ignore the general’s interjection. “Perhaps the afternoon would be better for you?”
“Would you mind giving us the room, Lieutenant?” The general forces a level voice when he says it.
She jumps at the general’s command, keeping her eyes on the floor as she shuffles into the main room, shutting the door behind her.
He flicks an invisible speck of dust from his tunic and tips my chin up with a single finger until I’m staring up into a sea of deep blue eyes and says, “No.”
The command should annoy me, should chafe against my bullheaded nature, but the word only makes my core go molten beneath the male’s demanding gaze.
“I’ll find someone else to teach you,” he says, as if that will be the end of it.
“Someone less skilled,” I say, tearing my chin from him in annoyance.
His jaw ticks. “Someone who won’t send you back to me broken.”
“It was hardly a scratch,” I say and he huffs at the declaration while I continue to argue. “And I like her.”
“YoulikeRiah?” He gapes. “You hold a knife to my throat when I try to help you, but the female gives you a black eye and youlikeher?”
“Shewasn’t trying to undress me,” I say with a pointed stare.
“I was saving your life,” he growls.
Clearly, he isn’t over it.
“So is she, by training me,” I bite back, “But she can’t if you won’t let her.”
He looks like his teeth might crack under the pressure of his jaw when I temper my stance and take his hand in mine.
“Please, Xeyvian.”
I thought he might be softened by my plea, but I’m wrong. His eyes are pure desire when he lifts me onto the war table. Scattering wooden ships and infantry across the maps of Terr, he presses in between my legs, and his mouth is on mine the next second.
The passionate heat of his lips. The handful of hair he grasps at the back of my head. The press of his body against mine. The male is practically feral. He breaks the kiss, and I pull a deep breath, my heart thundering in my chest.
“Say it again,” he says.
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Please.”
He smiles, shaking his head. “The other part.”
Now I understand what lit the fire in him. What it is he wants from me. I brush my lips against his when I repeat his name in a breathy whisper. “Xeyvian.”
He swallows the sound, his tongue delving in long sweeps like he’s memorizing the curve of my lips, the shape of my mouth. He wraps me up in his arms, his fingers a tangled mess in my black curls as he drinks me in. A sharp fang nips at my bottom lip, and I smile against his mouth.
Coming up for air, he rests his forehead against mine and sighs deeply. All the fight is gone from the male when he says, “No earlier than eight. I want you in my bed until then.”
I nod, and nothing in the world can remove the smile from my face when he drops a kiss on the tip of my nose and heads for the door. He calls the lieutenant in and her eyes flick to where I’m sitting on the table, the scattered remnants of the A’kori military at my back.
“Have Seke cover your morning tasks,” he orders, “You will betraining with Shivaria moving forward.”
