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I woke, wrapped around Prisca. She lay so still in my arms, her long lashes dusting her pale cheek.
Some days, it took everything I had to clamp down on the urge to take her someplace quiet, away from this war. To watch her eat and laugh and raise a family. I stroked my hand over her flat stomach, and I imagined it rounded with our baby.
Gods, she would make an incredible mother. And if she didn’t want that, I would have her to myself for the next several centuries. Either way, she was mine.
She sighed, shifting her ass against me, and I harnessed my self-control. She needed sleep.
We’d made it to this camp in the early hours of the morning. Since I had every intention of making Prisca scream before we left, I’d ensured our tent was farther away from the others, closer to the river.
Unsurprisingly, Vicer had taken Prisca aside as soon as we’d left the city, determined to return to Kaelin Stillcrest and her hybrid camp. I’d be impressed by his determination if it weren’t so fucking misplaced.
Prisca was just as hopeful that Stillcrest would see reason. Madinia, on the other hand, had been out of patience.
She’d given Vicer a look of such fury, it was almost impressive. “You don’t think we could use someone with your power?” She’d hissed. “Think of all the things you could do if we got you close to Regner’s generals.”
“I’ll go wherever Prisca asks,” he’d muttered. “I just need a few more weeks.” His gaze had met Prisca’s. “I can’t give up on her yet.”
“Just use your power on Stillcrest,” Madinia had ordered.
Vicer tensed. Slowly, he’d turned his head, pinning her with a look so dark, a tiny flame had appeared in one of her hands, despite her drained power.
Part of Prisca had agreed with her. I knew her well enough to know that much.
But there were two kinds of people in this world. Those who justified the confiscation of one person’s free will in exchange for hundreds or thousands of lives, and those who felt it was such a slippery slope, such an action should only be taken under the worst circumstances.
I was someone who could easily justify such a thing without a second thought. So were Madinia, Galon, and Demos.
Rythos was not. Neither was Marth, although that might be changing. Tibris was in the second category as well, and so was Asinia.
Prisca naturally felt the same as Rythos and the others. But the decisions she’d had to make in this war were wearing on her. And she knew exactly what would happen if Regner discovered the hidden camp.
Vicer’s eyes had flared as he’d watched Prisca deliberate. And I’d seen the moment he’d realized just how much she’d changed. She hadn’t yet been formally crowned, but it weighed on her just the same, along with the lives of each of her people.
“Two weeks,” Vicer had said hoarsely. “Two weeks, and I’ll convince everyone I can to leave. The hybrids we’ve just freed will help. If I…if I can’t make them leave after that, I’ll make my way back down to you. And I’ll use my power however you want.” Bitterness dripped from his voice.
Prisca had nodded. “Two weeks. Convince as many hybrids as you can. We’ll have safe places for them to stop and rest on their way to either the hybrid kingdom or the fae lands. Galon has offered a group of highly trained fae to help guard the camp.” Her amber eyes turned colder than I’d ever seen them. “Attempt to make Stillcrest see reason and allow them access. And tell her I’m personally holding her responsible for the lives of every hybrid in her camp. If they die because of her stubbornness, she better hope she dies too.”
Rythos sucked in an audible breath. Vicer’s eyes had turned flat. But he nodded. Madinia smiled at her, clearly pleased. Galon flicked me a glance, but I had already been watching Prisca once more. Something had happened. And whatever it was, I would get it out of her.
Prisca shifted some more.
I growled. “I know you’re awake.”
She chuckled, her eyes still closed.
“Was there something you wanted, wildcat?”
Her eyes slid open, so gold, I caught my breath. “You,” she said.
Gods, this woman.
I nuzzled her hair, breathing in the sweet scent of her as I pushed up the shirt she’d worn to sleep—my shirt—and slid my hand slowly up her body.
She sucked in an unsteady breath, arching her back, urging me on. I took my time, enjoying the way she melted for me.
“Lorian…”
Her nipples were already hard, and I played, teasing them, enjoying her gasps and moans. When I pinched one of them, she ground back into me. I smiled against her neck.
