“Gods, what am I going to do with you?” Zorvut muttered, watching in half-aroused fascination as his seed spilled out of Taegan’s body.
“You’ve ruined me for anyone else,” Taegan teased, then kissed along his neck. A breathy sigh escaped Zorvut’s lips at the contact. “So you’ve got to fuck me every day. That’s what you’re going to do with me.”
“I already want you again,” Zorvut groaned. For the first time, there was a needy whine to his voice much like Taegan’s own, and a pleased grin spread across his face.
“Eventually,I’mgoing to fuckyou,” he said as he pulled Zorvut up into a sitting position. “But for now, I suppose you can have me again.”
Chapter Fourteen
Theyroselatethenext morning, wrapped comfortably in warm blankets beneath the tent. There was an unspoken understanding that whatever the day held for them upon their return was likely to be far less pleasant than their time spent alone here. Much as he wished the morning would last forever, Taegan roused himself to start a small meal as Zorvut packed up his belongings.
“Where were you headed?” Taegan asked curiously as he watched him disassemble the tent. Zorvut shrugged.
“Truth be told, I’m not sure,” he said. “I think I would have continued south into Autreth if I could, to find sanctuary there.”
“Not a bad idea,” Taegan said. He wanted to add that it would be a good option if they could not return to the capital, but couldn’t bring himself to speak it aloud.
Once they had packed everything away, they set out on the road, heading north back toward the castle. At their leisurely pace, Taegan estimated they would arrive back at Castle Aefraya shortly after sunset.
It was strange, being so close to Zorvut yet unable to feel him in his head through the bond. There was still some pain, which had steadily receded over time, but it was a constant reminder of his mistake. He would never be so rash again.
Though there were snippets of conversation throughout the day, they mostly rode in silence. Despite the uncertainty of what would await them when they reached their destination, Taegan was just glad to be riding alongside him at all.
Well past midday, the little fishing village of Pondshear came into view. A small smile played at Taegan’s lips at the sight of it, but quickly morphed into a frown as a faint, distant shout pierced the air. It was coming from the direction of the village. His head snapped to look at Zorvut, who met his gaze, looking equally surprised.
“You heard it too?” he asked.
“Let’s go,” Zorvut replied with a nod, and they quickened their pace toward the village.
More shouts joined in as they got closer, and the unmistakable sound of steel striking steel.
“You don’t think it could be a war party already?” Taegan exclaimed as Zorvut galloped ahead. His bow had been slung across his back, but he pulled it out in anticipation of a fight.
“Why would they be this far south?” Zorvut replied without looking back at him, but he didn’t sound convinced. With everything that had happened already, it would be far-fetched, but not impossible for a party of orcs, maybe a small band of scouts, to have arrived within the kingdom’s borders. Who else would attack a sleepy fishing village?
Sure enough, as they approached and more of the village came into view, Taegan could make out the hulking figures of four orcs on horseback, skirmishing with what looked to be two guards and a handful of lay people armed with makeshift weapons. The orcs had circled around the elves, harrying them into a tight group.
Instinctively, Taegan drew an arrow and loosed it in the direction of the largest orc of the group. It whistled through the air and missed the orc as they cantered, but struck his enormous horse in its haunches, causing it to rear up with a scream. That grabbed the orc’s attention—he pointed at them and bellowed, and the other three caught sight of them, too.
“Stay behind me,” Zorvut growled, drawing his sword as he galloped on ahead. Taegan slowed, cantering further down the road as Zorvut barreled into the fray.
“Traitor!” the larger orcs roared at him as they moved to meet his approach. The pair of elves looked around in bewilderment as their attackers seemed to forget about them entirely. “Half-blood!”
Zorvut did not respond, only swung his greatsword at them as they approached. The weapon was easily as long as Taegan was tall, yet he maneuvered it in one hand and held his horse’s reins in the other effortlessly. In one fell swoop, the first orc to approach him howled in pain as Zorvut feinted to the side and slashed him in the ribs, dark blood staining the blade.
Taegan was transfixed for only a moment at how natural and easy Zorvut made it look despite the size advantage the others had on him, then shook himself to his senses to draw another arrow. Zorvut circled back around, but one of the orcs was getting close, too close—Taegan aimed his sights at that one, and embedded an arrow deep in his shoulder. He looked in the direction of the arrow and caught sight of Taegan, an expression of unbridled fury crossing over his face. He drew another arrow rapidly, shooting this one into the orc’s chest. The orc winced, but did not stop as he galloped toward Taegan.
Fear gripped him as he kicked into Moonlight’s sides, sending her bolting, but he knew the larger legs of the orc’s warhorse would catch up to him quickly. He had not even brought his sword with him in his hurry to leave the day before—the only close-range weapon he had was the dagger in his belt, useless when the orc had such longer reach with his ax. The orc charging him roared something he did not understand. He twisted back to fire another arrow at him—the angle was bad, he moved too hastily to get a good look, and he missed.
“Taegan!” Zorvut shouted, and Taegan caught sight of him breaking free from the group, galloping toward him. One of the orcs now lay unmoving on the ground, but the other two were close behind him.
The charging orc was upon him now, swinging an ax that missed him by a hair’s breadth. He loosed another arrow, but the orc had the advantage of being behind him, and it grazed the orc’s ear but went sailing on past him. When he looked, the orc’s eyes were not on him but on Moonlight—with a shout, he wrenched his feet out of his stirrups. The ax came down again and Taegan was tumbling to the ground, Moonlight shrieking in pain.
“No!” he wailed in a panic even as he skidded through the damp earth. “No!” He had freed himself from the saddle just in time and was not wounded, but his bow clattered out of reach and the ground beneath them was streaked with red. Moonlight had fallen next to him, blood gushing from her hind leg. But he couldn’t look at her long—the sound of hooves pounding into the dirt circled around him and drew closer.
“Taegan!” Zorvut’s voice came, just out of his view. Taegan instinctively raised his hands above his head, an ineffective shield against the hulking form bearing down on him.
A roar ofsomethingfilled the air, and in an instant, a flash of heat and light streaked through the sky and slammed into the orc’s chest, knocking him from his horse with a pained shout. He fell to the ground, howling as the arrows stuck in him were on fire, more flames licking along his clothes.
