He adds a third finger, stretching me more as the heel of his hand grinds hard against my clit.
I detonate, flying apart as colours flash behind my eyelids. I clench so hard around Lore’s fingers that he’s forced to stop pumping and just hold them there, letting me grip and release them over and over until my body comes down from the high.
My eyes have fallen closed, but all I can see is red. When I open them again, the world around us is completely silent. The last of the rattling cries of the dead have been extinguished, and the golden dome which protected us is completely gone.
“Lorcan.” Drystan has his arms crossed over his chest. “That was just about the most stupid thing you’ve ever done.”
“I charmed him into it.” I hasten to defend him, trying to ignore the fact that the redcap’s fingers are still buried inside me. Both Bree’s and Jaro’s eyes are glued to where Lore’s hand is barely covering my mound.
The wolf shifter’s nostrils flare, and Bree’s ears are pricked up and flicking with agitation.
“You weren’t going to leave any of them alive, anyway,” Lore replies, withdrawing his fingers and licking them clean with a grin as I slam my thighs closed. “What does it matter if they saw before they died?”
“You put her in danger.” Jaro’s wolf flashes in his eyes for a second before he wrestles it back.
“She was suffering.” Lore shrugs. “Now she’s not. Did you want a round of applause for doing your job and protecting her? Good wolfie. Well done.”
Behind Jaro, Wraith rips a blue limb free and throws it up into the air, playing a game of gory catch with himself as he waits for us to move on.
“I don’t want to argue about it.” I stand stiffly, not daring to look at Drystan as I tip-toe over the bodies towards my pile of clothes. “We have to get going, do we not?”
Yanking on my clothes beneath the poncho with jerky movements, I almost fall over in my haste to cover myself. I feel weirdly exposed like this, despite most of them having seen me in some state of undress at one point or another. They continue talking—well, growling, really—but I tune them out as I put my clothes to rights. When I’m done, Lore’s hat transforms from the poncho to a stiff, flat-topped velvet riding hat with an arched brim and a fluffy red feather in the band.
I’ve just finished tugging my boots back on when a large pair of hands fall on my shoulders, steadying me. I barely hold back a squeak of surprise. I was so caught in my own thoughts that I didn’t even notice their conversation ended.
It’s Jaro. I can tell by his scent and the too-gentle way he holds me.
“Rosie, are you okay?”
I swallow, then nod. “I’m fine. Better now that Lore helped me.”
He pauses, arching a brow. “You mean to tell me you weren’t frightened?” I go to shake my head, but his disappointed look stops me before I can even try to deny it. “The Call was screaming at me until I managed to shield you.”
“Well, maybe I was a little bit, in the heat of the moment,” I admit. “But I trust you—all of you. I knew Lore would get us out of there if there was any real danger, and I knew you’d never let them near me.” I pause. “You can’t stop me from being afraid, Jaro.”
His hands twist me and pull me against his chest. “I can damn well try,” he mumbles, the growl in his words causing them to rumble through his body. “Come on, we’ll get cleaned up in the river upstream.”
While getting clean sounds great, my gut sinks as I consider my plan to ask them to learn to fight. I thought maybe Jaro would back me up along with Lore, but his tone dashes those hopes.
Nine
Rhoswyn
The atmosphere is tense as we set up camp. We made it to three more shrines before my Guard decided on this tiny clearing in the hills, but at no point did anyone turn the discussion back to boundaries or sex. Perhaps because they were all too annoyed with Lore, who's still whistling a happy tune and twisting this way and that to admire the sheen of my dust across his chest.
With nothing else to do, I switched my focus to searching for my aura ten minutes into the journey, but I made no progress. I can still catch the subtlest glimpses of gold, but even I have to admit that might just be the sunlight against my pale skin.
I assume if I was actually managing to dim the glow, Drystan would’ve broken his angry silence and said something.
I’ve chosen to give it a rest for the night. Now, I’m sitting on the soft grass, wrapped in a shawl to guard against the chill wind, and trying to relax while Drystan packs away our things back into Blizzard’s saddle. I’m pleasantly full thanks to Bree’s valravn, which took down a brace of pheasants for our evening meal, and quietly debating how to bring up the questions I so desperately want to ask.
It won’t be easy, given that Drystan is the only one here. Jaro is off patrolling in wolf form, Bree disappeared to wash our clothes in a small nearby brook, and Lore is finding Wraith someone to eat—though they think I’m oblivious to that last part.
I asked for something to do, and Drystan gave me the task of maintaining the fire he summoned by magic. It doesn’t even seem to even be eating through the logs it’s set on.
I may have been raised mortal, but even I know what busywork looks like.
“Why don’t you speak your mind, dear heart?” Titania asks, softly.
