Nakoa leaned forward. “Tell us whatever it is that you’re hiding, Anara.”
“Tell us which woman in this hall Soule can fuck without you getting mad,” I countered, forking a turnip. “I want names.Actualnames.”
She flicked a hand. “No one’s interested in hearing that.”
“I’m interested,” Soule interjected, his lips kicking up.
Nakoa glared at me. “You’re such a little shit.”
Quite proud of myself, I shrugged and stuffed the last of my meal into my mouth.
Quillen caught my eye. “You sure there’s nothing going on between you and the Cardinal?”
“Positive,” I said before washing down my food with the dregs of my mead.
“Genuinely?” he asked.
“Yes.” I set down my empty tankard. “Why?”
“Because he’s heading this way, and he’s looking right at you.”
I froze. “What?”
A large male—and very familiar, not to mention sexually skilled—hand appeared on the table beside mine as Talon hovered over me from behind. He looped an arm around my upper abdomen, effortlessly hefted me off the bench, and then started shepherding me out of the hall with a palm splayed on my lower back.
I spluttered, disoriented. “What are you doing?”
He didn’t respond. He simply kept urging me toward the exit. Uh, apparently he was going to escort me to the stables himself tonight.
“I’m not ready to hit the sack—or hay bales, as it were—yet,” I complained.
He ignored that, too. Just ushered me out of the food hall and then led me to … the private barracks.
Oh.
I didn’t whatsoever protest as he guided me up to his room. What woman in her right mind would?
The moment we were inside with the door closed, we were on each other. Kissing, touching, stripping. He unceremoniously bent me over the bed before I even managed to remove all my clothes. Then he was railing me from behind, his hands keeping a firm hold on my hips.
Afterwards, while I was still shaking from my orgasm, he settled me on his bed and dragged off the rest of my clothes. Settling beside me, he placed a hand on my belly.
“So you want me to stay the night?” I asked, panting.
A low grunt of assent was his response.
Not about to miss the chance to sleep in a comfy bed for a change, I let myself relax. In no time at all, I fell into a deep sleep. I saw a young boy. A dark-haired boy no older than six. He was running, panting, clearly afraid. Running through a cavern, I realized. He kept glancing over his shoulder as he sprinted onhis little legs, the roar of an animal coming from somewhere in the background.
The images dissolved so abruptly I snapped awake.
Double-blinking, I brought the world around me into focus. Talon lay flat on his back, his brows drawn together, his breaths coming fast. A nightmare, I thought. He was having a nightmare … which made me think of my own. Made me think of the frightened dark-haired boy racing through a cavern, a boy with night-sky eyes that held gleams of gold.
Shit, had I somehow seen a snippet of whatever he was dreaming?
Probably not, since I couldn’t seehowI would have managed it. Gods, I was too tired to even properly ponder on it.
I snuck closer to him, placed a hand on his chest, and nuzzled his shoulder. I traced little circles over his skin with my fingertip, watching as his tight expression gradually eased away and his breathing finally settled. All the while, I told myself that he wasn’t the little boy in my dream; that I hadn’t somehow shared his nightmare. Because the thought of him being so afraid and alone like that while pursued by some beast? It was too horrific to contemplate.
CHAPTER TWENTY
