“Flare,” I whispered.
At my epiphany, Aire’s gaze veered to mine. “Knots.”
Yes. The roots tied themselves into knots.
Members of our clan each had their own unmatched skills, which we passed on to one another. As a sand drifter with a lifetime of seafaring to her credit, Flare knew how to work the most complex knots. She’d taught us a few tricks.
I dredged up her instructions and recited, “Don’t start with the ends.”
Aire scooted nearer. “We must find the bight instead.”
The loop. The place where the tension went slack.
And what else?
In unison, Aire and I swung toward a narrow hole in the trunk. “Nicu!”
“That’s me!” he called from his tree.
“Are you all okay?” we called out.
“I’m shining like the sun.”
I chuckled in relief. He’d slept good.
“Flare and her knots,” Aire hollered. “What did she say about—”
“Relieve tension before you pull,” Nicu quoted. “Then loosen the knot. Like a ribbon.”
We got to work. After locating the right spot, Aire leaned one shoulder against the thickest segment. Only then did the thinner roots yield, my fingers easing apart the crossings.
The mesh quivered, the plaits unspooling enough for us to squeeze past the tree’s womb. Working the exterior snare of Nicu’s tree, we freed him and the horses, and I snatched my friend in a suffocating hug.
Over the following days, we rode and camped. Despite Aire’s unrecognizable garments, taverns or inns were out of the question if we wanted to avoid being noticed. Nicu’s features alone would garner attention. To say nothing of Aire’s size, priceless weapons, and exquisite face. Plus, the foliage markings on my skin.
For a while, things progressed as well as could be expected. At one point, Aire took his turn chopping firewood beside our camp. Done with my portion, I averted my gaze as he stripped off his shirt. Sweat laminated the knight’s ridiculous torso. His pecs and abdomen flexed like stones, and his grunts punctuated every slam of my axe.
Aire had asked my permission before exercising the weapon. That didn’t mean I gave him leave to do the job half-naked.
Mid-swing, he paused. And pivoted toward me.
Our gazes latched, the impact jittering my pulse. Perspiration darkened the messy tips of his hair, panting exhalations ricocheted across his chest, and the sight of him performing domestic chores set my nether regions aflame. If I didn’t walk—run—from this scene, my pussy would need a bucket of ice water.
I spun in the opposite direction. Dunking myself in a cold pond failed to release the ache between my thighs, nor did fucking myself beneath the lapping water while I pictured Airethrowing down the axe and heaving me against a tree. After coming around my fingers, I washed off and sloshed to shore.
While bending to snatch my cloak, footfalls came to a halt. A pile of logs struck the ground and rolled across the underbrush. Whipping upright, I covered my tits with the mantle and froze.
Aire’s thunderstruck gaze pinned me to the spot. His eyes blew wide, black pupils dilating as they plummeted from my gaping features to my dripping body. Wash sluiced down my thighs, my crimped hair poured over one bare shoulder, and fluid licked the edges of my hips.
Although the vestment concealed my pitted nipples and sopping vagina, I went still. He’d already seen everything below the waist, already fucked the deepest and wettest parts with his hands, already made me come from the pit of my throat. Even so, I hadn’t revealed everything.
I opened my mouth to reassure him, make a joke, or bark at the man to turn around. Yet nothing came out.
The First Knight stalled like a trapped elk. His captivated eyes stumbled over my naked skin, then landed on the barest shadow of my pussy.
He veered away, red suffused his cheekbones, and frantic words staggered from his tongue. “My apologies… I was… that is…”
At a loss, the knight whipped around fully. Ignoring the logs he’d dropped, Aire placed his back to me and stood guard while I dressed, the shuffling of my clothes the only audible sound.
