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Chapter 32
ARSENE
Heat meansthree days of pure bliss, primus and vergis lost in a haze of endless mating. Heat would forge their already strengthening bond into a powerful chain. Is it wise?
Nur whimpers again, and Arsene realizes he’s clutching Nur’s shoulders tight to himself and the humans are watching him warily. There’s no time to think—his primus brain is already taking over, flooding him with pheromones designed to do one thing only: ready him to take Nur’s heat. Wise or not, he’ll do it.
“It’s business not of this realm.” He addresses Irvin. “We need to stop until he’s recovered.”
“The caravan can’t?—”
“Not you. The two of us.” He has no desire to be within five hundred paces of any other soul during Nur’s heat. “You’ll have to leave us behind. Leave a tent, my bag, and some water. We’ll catch up within six days.”
“How?” Myra interjects. “The sands shift all the time. The caravan won’t leave a trail for you to follow. Have some sense—surely he can ride it out in the back of a wagon.”
Arsene grimaces. “No. Not for this. We have no choice.”
“There must be something we can do,” Irvin says to her.
Heedless of the eyes on them, Arsene checks Nur over while the humans consult. His mind buzzes with excess energy from the bond. He should have seen the signs coming—Nur’s brightness, his rising scent. But it happened so fast.
It could be Nur’s regular cadence. Or it could have been triggered by Arsene’s protective pheromones, which have surely been in overdrive. Which means it’s his heat to take—if Nur wants him.
Finally Myra turns back. “We’ll leave you what we can spare, and we can set a few flags on the trail. Beyond that, you’ll be on your own.”
Arsene nods sharply. “It’s enough.”
“Rhys, go fetch what they need,” she orders. Then, blessedly, she ushers the rest of the humans away to leave them in relative privacy.
He should thank her, but it’s hard to focus right now. Instinct wars with sense. If his knot finally comes in during Nur’s heat, he’ll go into thrall.His mind will belong to Nur. His whole being aches for it—but there’s no universe in which this won’t interfere with his mission.
Yet he can’t leave Nur to weather this alone.
“Angel,” Nur whispers, his lips barely moving and his eyes still closed. “I feel like shit. What’s happening?”
“You’re going into heat,” Arsene tells him plainly.
Nur’s eyes crack open. He goes loose, mouth curling up in a gasping chuckle. He drags himself upright, his torso bent over his knees as hoarse laughter rocks his body. “That’s ridiculous. Tell me the truth.”
Arsene grits his teeth. “That is the truth.”
Nur’s laughter fades. “You’re serious.”
“We’ll have to stop here and weather it. There’s no way around it. You won’t be able to travel.”
“Weatherit?”
Arsene winces. “I just mean?—”
“Put me in the wagon. I’ll bite down on a strip of leather and fuck myself til I’m done.” Nur straightens. His face twists up in disbelief. “Surely you don’t mean to be a participant? With those pretty words?”
“You’re my—we’rebonded,” Arsene says, catching himself at the last moment. “Of course I mean to. You need someone. Have you even had a heat before?”
“Why would I? I’m not a real vergis,” Nur snaps.
Arsene flinches again, the words like daggers in his primus’s now-tender core. “Please, let me help.”
“I don’t see why I should.” Nur twists in his arms, but Arsene holds tight. The bond thrums. A vergis’s word is law during his heat—to defy him is unthinkable. But he has to convince Nur. Heat is dangerous at the best of times, and in the middle of the desert with only a human doctor around? The risk is unthinkable.
