As she bluntly reminded me, this female had aged seven years. It showed in the height she had gained, the deep smoky voice, and the firm grip she maintained on her weapon. When she’d first spoken, the sound penetrated a strange place inside me, like a tendril with crisp edges. An inflection that burned.
Not a girl. A woman.
I lay sprawled on the ground like roadkill, forgotten by our boisterous audience, who only had eyes for Aspen. To that, I could not blame them. The woman’s loyal axe rested proficiently against one shoulder, her agile posture carrying the weapon with the skill of a veteran fighter, and light winked from the blade’s edge. That victory stride commanded their admiration, making a legend out of her.
The spectacle triggered an unprecedented response, my blood percolating like a pressure cooker. A disturbing onslaught rushed down my chest, streamed past my pelvis with the force of a roaring rapid, and converged in the one place that had never—never—responded to this female before. My sac swelled, and my cock twitched, the upheaval foreign.
The hood encased Aspen’s features, a facet that hadn’t altered in my absence. While she sidled away, someone’s hand cut across my vision. I glanced at the soldier, lines of conciliatory amusement creasing his features.
Grumbling my thanks, I accepted his palm and let him pull me to my feet. I retrieved the broadswords, sheathing them while good-natured jeers rang from the squad.
For the sake of my brethren, I marshaled my temper. Spreading my arms, I inclined my head as if this had been some goddamn plan to reinitiate me. The exhibition worked, everyone’s palms slamming with increased fervor.
Once again, my eyes tapered on Aspen’s retreating form. Bold, dauntless, and gifted. Just as I’d hoped.
Yet still brash, with ample time to sharpen that vulgar tongue. As images of those crass lips resurface, I grunted and woke the fuck up.
The Brazen Creature vanished around the corner, heading to the side entrance that would deposit her in the library wing. The clan’s roundtable would begin soon.
Damnation, I’d lost track of the time. Muttering an oath, I stalked across the field, the soles of my boots crushing fallen leaves. Rows of knights clapped my shoulders, heralding my return. Although we reunited hours ago, I greeted them in kind, refusing to let this episode dilute their importance to me. Eternally, they had my deference and loyalty.
Though, I could not say I merited it today, despite the performance. I traipsed past the crowd, a snarl carving a path up my throat. This was not the peaceful reunion I had anticipated, nor could I justify how it started or why my emotions took a volatile turn.
Contrite, I departed from the field to the armory where I’d watched her in secret. Upon entering the space, she hadn’t been aware of my presence in the adjacent doorway, theentrance shadowing me from view. And while I would have made my arrival known, the sight of her wielding that axe before a mirror had stalled me in my tracks.
For some reason, my breath had caught in a peculiar way. I’d gone still, my eyes training on each seamless motion, admiration and wistfulness silencing me. Her fighting skills had progressed from that of a virtuoso to a deity.
How I wished I’d been here to witness that evolution. How I had wanted to spar with her, to discover whether our skills matched after this extended absence.
My lips had tilted, fondness and pride coursing through my veins. She was alive and unharmed, a concern that had kept me awake many nights. Moreover, she looked happy, fierce, dynamic. Long before my departure, I’d prayed for nothing less for this female.
Still, Aspen would not have appreciated being spied upon. No matter that she’d rendered me speechless, my body immobilized until it was too late.
By the time I stepped in her direction, that weasel had interrupted.
Recalling the incident, I marched into the armory. Unfortunately, any hope of extinguishing this brewing storm disintegrated. Standing near a display of maces and hammers, a male figure slipped into his overcoat.
Upon my entry, he glanced up. Intimidation pinched his fair features, which then relaxed into a smug expression. He’d been the one Aspen fought prior to my intervention, his ego presumably recuperating now that we lacked an audience.
I’d been briefed on this new recruit. Rhun, or Raccoon, or something of that infernal nature. I never overlooked a fellow warrior’s name, much less burdened them with any such indignity. Yet my head was too stuffed with images of him andAspen crossing weapons like a fucking erotic courtship ritual to think straight.
That she had a suitor shouldn’t have beset me. That someone brought her joy should have gratified me.
And it would have. If the man hadn’t displayed careless skills, much less opened his mouth.
Born and raised in Spring until a month ago, his lineage accounted for the cocksure golden-boy bravado, as well as the direction in which his phallus had been pointed during the fight. To say nothing of the tawdry remarks he made, suggesting he and Aspen knew one another intimately.
“I might be repeating that line later, when I’ve got you arching beneath me and your cunt spread around my dick—”
At which point, a sword had flashed in my hands before I realized it. As the leader of this army, I bore a responsibility to inspire my comrades, not to discredit them. A formal apology for my behavior would have been proper.
Reining myself in, I sought to mend the situation. Except Rhun-or-Racoon tipped his head in a mockery of decorum, vindicating my first impression. No sense of discipline. No civilized inhibitions. The signs emanated from him like grease pouring out of a bucket.
Fine. If Aspen consented to the flirtation, that was her choice. But it would not occur on Autumn’s training yard. And it would not override military standards.
My knuckles curled. As I prowled his way, he maneuvered around me.
Rather cute how this lad expected to get off that easily. Hardly recognizing myself, I palmed his face and shoved him back into my line of sight. More to the point, within butchering distance.
