I’d need to brew another batch soon as I was quickly growing low on them. Crawling back out, I rose on shaky legs to pass them out to each of my companions. Groans of relief echoed as we all downed the contents of the vials. As the liquid poured into my mouth, I felt the burning, parched walls of my throat relax, my chapped lips easing their ache as my body slumped into the sand. Gianni began to build a fire—the desert days were hot and tortuous, but the nights were cold and long.
As we had for the last three nights, we ate a simple meal of roasted veggies, dried meat, and a broth that Gianni claimed was filled with vitamins and proteins.
What I wouldn't give to sink my teeth into a bit of fresh roasted chicken.
I laid back against the sand, eyes fixed on the night sky as the group spoke in hushed tones. They always spoke with a softness to their voices for the reverence of the dark. Perhaps it was instinctual, to be quieter when you couldn't see what lurked around you.
"What do you think, desert oasis?" Gianni asked suddenly and I sat up, my hands instinctively moving to rub the knotted muscles from my thighs. At my confused expression, Gianni smiled, his eyes drifting briefly to Bran. “We're debating whether passion and love are one in the same."
I raised a brow, acutely aware of the white-haired man who sat on the other side of the fire. "I believe they can be connected to one another, but they are not the same. You can have passion without love, and love without passion."
Gianni leaned forward, eyes sparkling. “And which would you rather have?" His tone was teasing, flirtatious, and I rolled my eyes, my own smile reflecting in the vibrancy of his gaze.
"I've had passion and I think I could do without it. I wish to be loved tenderly, and with a gentleness." My shoulder lifted as my fingers traced patterns upon the sand.
Gianni hummed thoughtfully, his dark eyes roaming over me. “If you wish to rekindle your desire for passion, you know where my bedroll is."
My laugh came soft, shoving him away and he returned to the conversation with Bran as I stood on wobbling legs, making my way to Aziza.
Running a gentle hand over the scaled side of the Tolokok, a fondness for the beast fluttered to life. She had been an excellent traveling companion and I almost wished she could travel north with us. Though I knew the Tolokok would not be suited to the icy, dense forests there.
Aziza nudged at my hand, knowing I hid a fist full of dried sweet berries, as I did every night for her. I opened my palm flat, allowing that forked tongue to glide over the fruit before the Tolokok ate the berries straight from my palm.
I turned when I heard steps shifting in the sand behind me and startled when I found Roan, a tin in his hand as he held it out to me.
"For your legs," he said simply as I took it. Opening the container I inhaled the spiced scent of the salve, my nose instantly picking out ginger and turmeric within it.
Smiling up at him, I gently waved the small luxury he had given me. “Thank you."
With the berries gone, Aziza slumped into the sand. Pressing my back against her, I groaned as I slid down the scales, leaning on her for support. Shifting forward to roll up my pant leg, I stilled when I saw Roan drop to his knees before me, his quick fingers making deft work of the fabric so it was rolled just a few inches past my knee.
“You can barely move without pain.” An explanation for the kindness.
He moved without another word as he worked and I watched, studying the sharpness of his jaw, the angles of his cheekbones, the way his sweaty hair hung into his eyes. I admired the stubble that had begun to grow along his jaw and above his lip, adding to the allure he already possessed. His hands reached for the salve before popping off the top and taking a generous dollop to rub between his palms.
And then those scarred hands were grabbing my legs, with such gentleness that my fingers were clawing into the sand from the ache ricochetting in my chest. He rubbed the salve into the muscles of my calf with a precision that had me groaning as he sought out the aching knots and rubbed away the radiating pain with careful ministrations.
It wasn't until he moved to my opposite leg that he finally spoke, his voice far too casual to be anything less than prying. “Do you plan to join his bed tonight?"
Lifting my head from where it had been resting back against Aziza, a wry smile crossed my lips as he continued to massage.
"Would it matter if I did?"
His hands stilled, green and silver eyes a storm that had me sucking in a breath as he leaned closer. “If you wish for him to leave this Goddess forsaken hellscape they call a desert alive, then yes. It does matter."
I hummed, closing my eyes as I rested my head back once more, patting the sand beside me. I felt him shift before settling down next to me, his back also leaning against Aziza.
"Is your vision impaired, Captain?" I asked, tone teasing, one eye peeking open to gauge his reaction.
When his confusion was evident, I gestured towards the others who were still sitting around the fire.
"Tell me what you see."
He watched for a moment. "He's flirting with Rena."
I nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, you see the playfulness he exudes there, similar to how he interacts with me. Now wait for," I quieted before Gianni's attention was inevitably drawn back to Bran, his gaze softening the slightest bit. “That."
Roan watched the scene unfold, head tilting and I gave him a triumphant smile as I spoke once more. “Even if I wanted to enter his bed tonight, which I donot, I fear I may find my cousin already in it. There's no need to be jealous of his flirtations, as nothing will ever come of them."
