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7
ANOTHER FORM OF UNION
Naia woke in the middle of the night from Solaris climbing into her bed.
A gust of sweet lemongrass swarmed her nostrils. She popped her eyes open to his bare arms caging around her. His chest lowered to meet hers.
After a century, Solaris had grown into a man, lean and corded with muscles from his years of training. Naia could barely seize her arm up from his weight, let alone shove him off.
Panic sprouted viciously, pushing her heart into her throat. She could not move. “Solaris, get off me this once!”
A look of warning crossed over his features as his eyes flashed to the front of the room.
Naia registered the silhouette of Mira’s most trusted attendant in the shadows, and her fright turned into rage and crawled up her neck into her skull. The situation was agonizingly clear then—whatever was going on was not Solaris’s doing, but Mira’s.
Raksa stood with his hands bound behind his back. “I apologize for the intrusion, My Lady.”
Naia took inventory of the number of blades sheathed down his legs. He was a middle god of war. As a child, Naia often found the attendant flinging his precious knives in practice. A glinting blade in the sunlight slicing through the air and into the bellies of flitting fish in the sky.
Naia returned her gaze back to Solaris. “What is the reason for interrupting my sleep?”
Raksa gave a small scoff. Sleep wasn’t obligatory for deities, but Naia found solace in it. “Lady Mira’s orders were for me to escort Lord Solaris to your bedchamber. She has ordered you to lie with him.”
Fear burned in her veins.
Naia searched Solaris’s face for answers, her heartbeat pulsating in her fingertips wrapped around his forearms.
Would he do what was demanded of him?
The tension left Solaris’s face as he exchanged a look with Naia, assuring her she had no reason to be afraid.
Her body gave way to relief, and she relaxed into the mattress.
Raksa continued to watch them. He would report every detail to Mira.
Naia slipped into an act, hardening her tone as she commanded, “Leave us now. I have no intention of putting on a show for you.”
“Lady Mira has ordered me to remain?—”
“I assure you the deed will be done,” Solaris said, using his lord voice—strong and authoritative. “You heard Lady Naia. Now leave us.”
“Forgive me, but that is not my order, Lord Solaris.”
“Very well then,” Solaris sighed. “If you must remain, do so outside. I would prefer to make love to Lady Naia without her being distraught by your presence. Afterwards, I will provide you with proof. Does this satisfy your order?”
Raksa held Solaris’s gaze for a long moment.
Solaris remained unblinking, embers of his power crackling in the air as a warning.
“I suppose it will suffice,” Raksa said. “After all, you have no reason to disobey orders given by the High Goddess of the Sea or the High Goddess of Lightning.”
Crafty bastard. To remind Solaris of the demands given to them by their mothers.
Throughout the years, Naia had learned one thing about her future betrothed. He always did what his mother specifically asked of him. If she said jump, he jumped. If she said to marry the High Goddess of the Sea’s daughter, he would. All without question. Undoubtedly, it was the most frustrating quality of his.
Solaris gave a stiff nod to Raksa in response.
He excused himself and left.
