She caught up to him just in time to see him stroking Thessa’s scales again. Confusion felt oddly cold as it washed over her. Why, of all people, did Thessa let him touch her? Vane had mentioned it would take a lot for Thessa to kill him. Perhaps he had some previous connection to her. There was no other explanation for the way she closed her eyes and chuffed softly as he patted the side of her enormous head.
“She’s…agreeable,” Soren commented as casually as she could manage.
Vane tilted his head, eyes still on the dragon. “Hm, I’d be careful if I were you. You don’t want to offend her honor.”
“She’s just oddly—” But before Soren could finish, Vane was in front of her, tripping her and catching her arm as she futilely tried to swing at him.
She yelped as they both plummeted back, the dagger that had been in his hair suddenly in his hand and at her throat as they fell to the ground. He caught the small of her back with his other hand, pulling her up just before she hit the hard ground.
The air knocked out of her, completely at his mercy, she blinked slowly at him. This felt…familiar, and it took a few seconds to remember why.
Last night, in the dream, the goddess and the man had been in a similar position.
“You don’t need to protect me, remember?” she muttered before thinking.
Vane went still, his muscles locking up around her. “What did you just say?”
His dagger was still at her throat, their faces inches apart. She tried to shove him away, but he held firm.
“Let me go!” she snarled, squirming in his hold.
His eyes flashed, and there it was—the first crack in his armor of the day. What she had said bothered him. She had an inkling as to why but was still pushing away the truth because it was simply impossible. He couldn’t be the same person as the man in the dreams.
“Make me,” he ordered, his voice rough with tension.
She wanted to scream. He knew very well he had her trapped, and there was no getting out of it through force.
But maybe there were other ways to escape. Perhaps she could even use this tension between them to her advantage.
One of her hands was pinned beneath her, the other on the hilt of his dagger, keeping it where it was. She shifted her fingers, slowly caressing the rough skin of his calloused palm. His breath caught, just barely, just enough for her to hear it. But there wasno way for him to hide the way his pupils spread, making his eyes nearly black.
His grip on the handle loosened, and she slowly guided it away from her neck, keeping her gaze locked on his. He still had her pinned to the ground, so she leaned in, brushing her lips against the shell of his ear and whispering, “If I stab you now, will I be punished or praised?”
A low sound, almost a groan, escaped him, and she took the opportunity, rolling and flipping their positions so she straddled him, the dagger that had loosened in his grip now held tohisthroat.
For a moment, they just stared at each other, both breathing heavily. Vane broke the silence first, his voice a phantom caress as he said, “Very good, Soren.”
She was trembling with an aching feeling she did not want to admit to. It made her voice waver as she demanded, “You goaded me, didn’t you?”
His lips lifted. “You won’t learn to fight in a few days, not well enough to stand against soldiers trained their whole lives. But I can teach you ways to cheat that system.”
She was still on top of him, but as she tried to move away, his broad hands caught the swell of her hips. The distracting heat swelled, and she froze. He did too, before rolling his jaw and releasing her. Quickly, she moved off him, and they both sat a few feet away from each other, neither deigning to speak about what had just occurred.
Eventually, when she couldn’t take the silence anymore, she said, “So, what else?”
He didn’t look at her, not at first, his chest rising and falling in a slow breath. When he did finally meet her eyes, his expression was closed off, the mask firmly in place again.
“Let’s throw some daggers.”
Her brows lifted. “You mean…at people?”
His lips twitched, just barely. “No, Soren, at a target. I won’t ask you to kill, not today.”
He stood and tilted his head, a silent request for her to follow. She scrambled to her feet, trailing after him as he strode towards camp. Vane’s face was impassive as they wove through the tents, passing groups of soldiers training or taking breaks.
As they passed a group of three men eating around a low, burning fire, Soren heard one of them mutter, “Bet she’d spread her legs for me if I asked. Never fucked a Misean cunt before, but I wouldn’t be against trying.”
Just ahead of her, Vane stopped walking abruptly. He turned towards the soldier, and a shiver raced down her spine at the dark look on his face.
