His lips caress mine, like he’s sealing the words into my flesh. I shiver with a sudden wave of dizziness as his hunger stirs up a fire inside of me.
Someone’s hand grips my shoulder, and they tear me away from Malachi. I turn and growl at Nash. “What the Blazes is your problem?”
His eyes linger on my plump, tingly, swollen lips. “Remember what I promised?” he checks. I blink. Um, something about him returning whatever they did to me threefold. Honestly, a tiny part of me is scared, like my middle toe on my left foot—that’s the bit of me that trembles in fear of Nash’s promise. The rest dares me to test him.
“What did you promise?” Theo asks, coming to crowd me alongside Malachi. The only one giving me an inch of space is Hart. I dart between the gap and edge toward the prickliest of the Stirling brothers. He won’t be crowding me with a big, hard, heated body anytime soon.
Nash’s grin tips up at the side, like he’s thinking of all the ways he’s going to deliver. I lift my chin. He shakes his head and stalks down the tunnel. Theo glances at his retreating back, then at me with a raised brow. Hart leans down to whisper in my ear, “Just to be clear, you might think I am the scariest of my brothers, but I let my darkness out for all to see. Nash hides his, and that is ten times more deadly.”
I blink at the opening where Nash has disappeared, no longer sure of my need to push him.
“Tide is low enough for us to leave,” Nash shouts from the tunnel.
“What did he promise?” Theo asks again.
I dart a look at him as I follow Malachi down the tunnel. “He threatened me with a good time.”
Malachi chuckles as we spill out into a damp tunnel, the water lapping against our ankles. We make our way out onto the shoreline and edge around the cliffs until we spy the kingdom surrounding the castle. We climb up a rocky ledge and start walking through the town. Small whitewashed dwellings with cute colorful flowers in pots by their black doors surround the castle. The cobbled streets are bustling in the light of the diurnal. We stroll into a market of people selling their wares and displaying their crafts. My eyes devour the wonders of the stalls. We have nothing like this back at Strongfair. Silver is a rare trade in Far, Far Away. Everyone contributed and traded their goods and skills, ensuring everyone was useful and remained fed. But the only wealthy person is The Duke, who wasted his silver on erecting statues of himself to elevate his own importance.
My hand grazes the edge of some intricately carved wooden bowls, engraved with scenes of dragons and knights. Malachi’s hand at my back keeps me moving. I spy various cheeses—who knew there were different types? I feel like this is something everyone should experience. Like a cheese party. Wait no, a cheese and sausage party.
The walk through the market is up a hill, and my calves ache. “Are you sure the horses are gone? Not waiting for us somewhere?” I huff out between pants. I need to work out.
“They bolted. We walk unless Nash purchases new ones.”
I give Malachi a hopeful look. He shakes his head. “Too expensive.”
Ugh. My feet continue trudging upwards. Then we pass a sausage stall and my entire world is rearranged with the dangling delights before me.
I blink as the older man in front of the stall offers a platter of cooked sausage out toward me. “A sample of delicious sausage for the pretty damsel?”
My lips part, and my hand trembles with the need to grab the whole tray. “Take some,” Malachi mutters. “You aren’t bound to buy.”
I glance at the sausage and lick my lips as my mouth waters. Nash looks over his shoulder to see why we’ve stopped. He spins on his heel and grabs the tray of tiny bite-sized pieces of sausage from the man before slapping a piece of silver in his empty hands.
He hands me the tray and jerks his head up the hill. The journey suddenly seems more manageable. That’s the power of a good sausage. I nibble on the pieces and groan at the wonderful taste. Damn, The Hallows does sausage like no other. The tray becomes empty all too soon, and to my delight, I find the tray is wooden with a carving of a gigantic dragon in the center. I trip on a loose cobble and smash into Nash’s back.
Nash looks at me over his shoulder with a frown as Malachi reaches for the tray and I hug it to my body. “Mine,” I growl.
His smile lights up. “I thought perhaps I could carry it for you, seeing as the walking and carrying is causing you some issues.”
I clutch the tray even tighter and shake my head. “No, I’m not letting it go.”
Nash turns and sweeps his arm under my butt, lifting me up against him. My legs wrap around his waist and I grin.
“I could have carried her,” Malachi grumbles. I look over Nash’s shoulder and meet Malachi’s eyes.
“I’m sure Nash will get tired and swap me out,” I tell him.
Nash’s hand squeezes my ass, sending a wave of heat between my legs. “I never get tired,” he mutters.
Good to know. I eyeball the rest of the stalls, and my hand glides out to touch a silk scarf, which starts out the color of flames before deepening into a dark purple. So beautiful. I’m not a girl that lusts after material things. So long as I have clothing, food, and shelter, I’m happy. But the warmth of the scarf's colors captivate me.
Malachi snatches the scarf, and after some bargaining with the stall owner, a younger woman with a babe tucked on her hip, he exchanges a piece of silver for the scarf. I blink. Why are they being so nice to me? Malachi winks as he wraps the scarf around his neck and tucks it inside of his shirt. I eyeball his chest and narrow my eyes.
“You get this when you climb on me,” he says.
He’s playing dirty, and I love it. But I’m not giving up my tray or my Nash right now. That scarf isn’t going anywhere. I lay my head on Nash’s shoulder and allow myself to be carried. The swaying lulls me into falling asleep. This time, it’s with a smile on my face and no sea witch threatening us and telling me I’m not good enough. This tray and that scarf say differently. Also, you don’t carry maidens that aren’t worthy.Screw you, Idols, I am worthy.
