I watch as everyone splits off without a word, shoulders slumped, boots dragging through the snow. No one died today, but everyone is too exhausted to celebrate.
I roll my own stiff shoulders and head toward my tent, the weight of Kai’s request still pressing down on me. I wage an internal battle with myself, walking slower than I usually would. Half of me is eager to return to Aurelia, while the other half wishes I could avoid her for a few days while I think about what to do.
I need to tell her that Kai wants me to kill the queen of Thermia. Even though we don’t know for sure that the queen is her mother, I know she’ll view it as a betrayal if I don’t tell her the truth.
Fortunately, it’s evening, and that means we can’t talk freely in the tent. We’ve been careless lately, growing too comfortable to remember we should only be talking in our heads, and I know it hasn’t gone unnoticed. Fortunately, most of what we’ve said is during sex, and no one has too many questions about why that would be. We can’t have a conversation about our plans and the queen though—that will have to wait at least until tomorrow.
I step into the tent and see Aurelia sitting on the bed, her hair comb in hand as she brushes her squirrel. The little beast has burrs tangled in his tail. She catches my eye and rolls hers, tilting her head pointedly toward the squirrel. I can practically hear her thoughts:Do you see what I’ve been dealing with while you were gone?
I fight the insane urge to cross the tent and kiss her.
I need to get a fucking grip.
Instead, I stride in and start stripping off my armor. Underneath, I’m drenched in sweat and dirt. I need a bath, and I’m about to ask Aurelia if she wants to go with me, when she stands up from the bed and walks over to the paper we’ve been using to pass notes since we arrived.
She bends over, and I get a nice glimpse of her ass as she scribbles out a note and holds it up for me to read. I’m barely paying attention, only thinking about the hot springs and, more specifically, about her ass, so it takes me a second to process what she’s written.
What’s knotting?
I stare at the words, feeling a contradictory rush of heat and ice through my body—arousal tightening in my groin while something cold and leaden settles in my gut. I snatch the pen out of Aurelia’s hand, scribbling my reply so fast that the ink smears.
Who the fuck talked to you about knotting?
Liv and Inga.
I have no idea who Liv is, but Inga is Kai’s woman. They have seven damn children, I’ll just bet she had a lot to fucking say about knotting.
What did they say?
It’s dark so it’s hard to tell, but I think I see her cheeks flush.
Nothing really, they just mentioned it. What is it?
I run a hand through my hair, letting out a breath. I still feel hot and sweaty, although now I’m not entirely sure that’s only from the armor. I’ve been forcing myself not to think about knotting Aurelia ever since the insane idea occurred to me the other day, but now I can’t think about anything else. That can’t be a good sign.
Aurelia waves her hand in front of my face to get my attention and taps the paper impatiently waiting for my answer.
I take the pen back and write.
I can’t explain it like this.
Aurelia wrinkles her nose with annoyance and tries to grab the pen back from me, but I won’t give it back to her.
Instead, I write:
Come take a bath with me.
Her expression immediately clears and she nods eagerly even as I bite back a groan. I can’t decide whether I’m excited or terrified about this. Maybe both.
It’s dark as Aurelia and I walk through the woods. I wish I’d brought a lantern, but I wasn’t thinking that clearly when we left the tent. At least I remembered to bring the soap and towels.
I’m trying to think about how to explain knotting to Aurelia, while being far too self-aware of the fact that the only reason Iwould have to explain it to her would be if we were going to do it. I’m rapidly reaching a point of no return here, but I’m not sure how to turn things around.
I watch Aurelia counting her steps under her breath, her lips moving silently as we walk. The moment we cross what must be her mental boundary line for how far she needs to be from camp before she can talk, she turns to me with bright eyes and speaks at full volume, as if we’d been mid-conversation. “So, what does it mean?”
I resist the urge to groan. “What did Inga say?”
“She didn’t really say anything. She and Liv were just asking about, er, well see both she and Liv are pregnant and…”
