43
ELOWEN
But we don’t travel to theSouthernwastelands right away.Wego to a town on the very edge of the wastelands and thereTherondeclares that we need to stop a while.
“We need food and a place to rest before we take on a fire demon,” he says to me.“I’llsee ifIcan pick up some smithing work and maybe you can do some healing?”
“I can’t heal anything very big,”Itell him.Butit’s true, being a priestess of theNatureGoddess,Ido have some healing power–not thatI’vehad much experience using it on people.Imostly heal woodland creatures ifIfind one hurt in the forest.I’mactually surprisedIstill have any magical powers at all, since they are granted by theGoddessherself.Iwould have thought she would have abandoned me by now, considering the lascivious thingsI’vebeen doing with the bigDrakeShifter.Butmaybe she knowsI’munder a curse andIcan’t help it–or that’s whatItell myself, anyway.
I knowIshould pushTheronto finish the quest, butIdon’t.I’mnot anxious to face aFireDemonand thoughIdon’t like to admit it, even to myself,Idon’t want my time withTheronto end.
I don’t know if he feels the same way, though.Astrange kind of distance seems to have come between us ever since he showed me hisDrake’sshaft.Idon’t know why, but he seems cooler towards me–distant.
I don’t push myself on him, despite the fact that the curse is tormenting me.Ikeep my distance, even at night when we sleep in the same bed, since we’re pretending to be husband and wife.
Theron finds work at the local forge where his craftsmanship is much admired andIheal little cuts and injuries for the townsfolk.Thesmith and his wife let us sleep in their attic and we stay for about a week, working and waiting.Waitingfor what?I’mnot sure.Maybejust until we’re ready to go.
I don’t know ifI’llever be ready.
One thingIdo know, though, is that the curse is riding me hard.Mynipples are tight all the time and my pussy feels wet and hot and swollen with need constantly.Duringthe day, whenI’mhealing cuts and bruises,Ican mostly ignore my body’s needs.
But at night, afterTheronandIhave gone to bed,Iam in agony.Ican smell his spicy, masculine scent and feel the heat of his big body and it makes me want him so badlyIcould scream.
I don’t though—Ikeep quiet.IknowTheronmust knowIneed him.He’stold me before that he can smell whenI’min need soIknow he knowsI’mhaving a hard time.Buthe doesn’t reach out to me, doesn’t offer to help.
Doesn’t even touch me.
I’m not going to lie–it hurts.Idon’t know why he doesn’t seem to care anymore.Whyhe doesn’t kiss me or hold me or touch me or anything at all.
I would think he doesn’t care at all…except sometimesIcatch him watching me with an expression on his faceIcan’t quite read.Butwhenever he sees me looking, his jaw tightens, and he looks away.
I wishIknew whatIdid wrong.IwishIcould stop wanting him.
I don’t thinkIcan stand the curse much longer–I’mgoing to have to beg him to help me.Butwhat if he says no?
I don’t know whatI’lldo if that happens–Ionly knowI’mmiserable andImiss him.
44
THERON
The attic smells faintly of wood smoke and iron.Evenup here, tucked beneath the sloping rafters of the smith’s house,Ican still smell the forge clinging to my skin—the heat of it, the sweat, the sharp tang of worked metal.Allthe scents of home—it should comfort me.
But it doesn’t…because she’s here.
Elowen lies beside me in the narrow bed we’ve shared for the past week, her back to me, her body a warm, tempting curve beneath the thin blanket.Ican feel the heat of her even without touching her…can hear the soft rhythm of her breathing…can smell her warm, feminine scent.
Gods, her scent is driving meinsane.
It’s intense tonight—more than it’s ever been.Sweetand sharp and unmistakable.Need…want…arousal so strong it curls in the back of my throat and settles low in my gut, making me hard despite every effortImake to stay in control.
“She needs us.”MyDrake’svoice is a low, insistent growl in the back of my mind.“She’shurting.Youcan smell it.Whydo you deny her?”
BecauseIhave to.Becauseit hurts too much to let myself get close to her again, the wayIdid whenIwas tasting her.IknowI’llnever be able toBondher to me,Iknow she’s going to forget me—erase me—the moment she works theTimeWeavingspell.AndI’malso afraidI’llgo too far—thatI’lllose control and change the color of her eyes.
The pain and uncertainty just aren’t fucking worth it.
I squeeze my eyes shut and turn onto my back, staring up at the rough-hewn beams overhead, trying to focus on anything other than the soft shift of her body beside me.Thewhisper of cloth against skin…the faint hitch in her breathing that tells me she’s awake.
