“Shh, Lady. All is well,” Maruk whispered. Gentle light filling the space with delicate shapes thrown against the heavy curtains. A scattering of stars across fabrics dyed with rich swaths of blues, orange, reds, and purples, a mythical night of some fabled kingdom.
Scoffing laugh as bitter as her tears, Aida scrubbed at her cheeks with the back of a hand. Shrugging deeper into the thick fur covering her as she turned red-rimmed eyes to Maruk waiting by a table of dried fruits and meats, water and bread.
“It was not your fault, Lady.” Voice as dry and dusty as his clean scent, Maruk shuffled over on his knees to settle the laden tray beside her knees. Daring to reach out and adjust the lush furs as if she should be cold.
Her skin still ached and burned, stretched too tight over bones and sinew until she thought she was snap at the smallest touch. Looking down, Aida saw someone clothed her in one of Er’it’s tunics, the fabric torn at the seams, frayed edges showing at long tears. More tears slipped free, a quiet sob shattering the stillness of the tent. Maruk’s dry, smooth palm pushing the damp tendrils of her hair from her face where they clung to wet cheeks.
All Aida could remember was the need. That and the smell. Er’it. Close and thick, making her blood burn too hot, making her ache. Others too near, hating their touch and wanting his, yet ready to accept them as pale substitutes just to end her pain. Aida gave another laugh, one that turned into a sob she buried in upturned knees. Hiding her shame even as she pressed her nose into the furs and fine linen of the tunic. Taking in the faded scent of Er’it lingering in the threads.
“Eat, Lady. Your body is weak, and you must strengthen it for what is to come.” Maruk filled the rough-hewn wooden cup with cool water, wrapping Aida’s slack hand around it. Holding it firm until she brought it to her lips.
Wanting to gag on the small taste of it, Aida grimaced and swallowed it down. Eyeing the tray, her lips pulled down at the corners even as her eyes devoured the simple spread. With her stomach acting so volatile, she didn’t dare to do more than wet her lips with the water, turning to stare into the dark shadows.
Full night must have fallen. An entire day of travel lost because of her. Because of what Otaso named her, what she’d incited in all those men. Sniffling back a fresh wave of tears, Aida tried to firm her resolve. Failed as she turned trembling lips and wide eyes up to Maruk and saw his pained expression.
“What does it matter if I am starved when he kills me,” Aida said, hiccupping on another fractured sound of pain before she could hide it in her cup.
“I cannot change what they spoke so freely of in your presence, but I can tell you that something else is happening. Something that may change the outcome,” Maruk said while rubbing Aida’s back, offering what small comfort he could.
“He wants me dead,” Aida whispered on a trembling breath, catching her lower lip between her teeth to silence the screams that clawed at the back of her throat. Horror scraping over her tongue, she hid her face in her knees again. Hated herself for finding comfort in the musky cedar scent where Maruk’s calming hands could not.
“You wouldn’t quiet until we gave you something of his, you know.” Maruk arranged the plates of dried foods on the tray, putting them in some order that pleased his eye. “When you screamed, he hurt many to go to you. It took five warriors and all of his mages to keep him from you.”
“And? Why do you tell me this,” Aida asked in a plaintive whine, curling tighter around her legs to ward off the vibrating ribbons of heat snaking through her limbs. Wishing them to leave her in frozen misery even as sweat beaded on her brow and stung her burning eyes.
“I tell you this because much can happen in the weeks it will take us to get to the forests in the north. While I do not understand this change in your body, from what I have heard His Majesty and Tor’en speaking of, it is of importance. From what I saw with my own two eyes, it could change your future by leaps and bounds should it come to pass.”
“You’re not making sense, Maruk.”
“I cannot explain it, child. The details are unknown to me, for I’m a simple apothecary. They do not see me as their equal and His Majesty is loath to let the healing mages near you.” Maruk huffed a sigh, nudging the tray closer and tugging Aida from her defensive ball. “Now you will eat something, drink the water. Give yourself strength in body, if not in mind, hmm?”
Aida sniffled and reached for the tray, blind fingers grasping at whatever came to hand first. Shoving it into her mouth, chewing became a daunting endeavor. Trying to swallow the bitter, thick saliva pooling in her mouth an effort she was not capable of. Maruk was there with a wide, shallow bowl as Aida lurched to the side. Steady as she retched and sobbed, holding her hair back from her face with soothing murmurs.
“Try again, child. Slower this time,” Maruk said, taking a knife from his belt to slice a dried fig into quarters before offering the small pieces to Aida.
Noting that he kept the blade away from her, Aida wondered at what orders Er’it had given. With her death looming, a sacrifice for his power, it made sense he would protect the source. Gagging on even that small morsel, Aida choked it down as she realized that the old, scruffy mage, the one named Tor’en, had been correct. Er’it was no different from Otaso in that respect. Where her guardian had waited years to rip free whatever he thought to have from her, Er’it had stolen it away. Like a thief in the night, he’d taken what Otaso so desired. All while Aida begged for more.
Wondering how she had not seen it, Aida ignored the way she rubbed her cheek against the tunic while Maruk offered her a strip of dried meat. From the very moment she’d opened her eyes, there had been something exhilarating and terrifying between herself and Er’it. The way he made her body erupt in fire, the safety she felt enclosed in his arms even as he heaped his abuse upon her. Thinking back to the agony of his knot splitting her open that first time, she had still made sounds for him she’d never uttered before. Purrs and hums that reeked of complacent delight.
“Don’t cry, Lady. No more tears tonight,” Maruk said and wiped at Aida’s damp cheeks with a square of soft cloth.
“He makes me feel…” Aida sucked in a shaky breath, swallowing hard against the angry roil of her stomach before accepting the wooden cup from Maruk again.
“Different?”
“In so many ways. Otaso never… he wanted me to, but I never felt anything for him. I never felt safe with him. Even with the way Er’it has treated me, I find myself becoming another person when he’s near. As if it doesn’t matter anymore, when it does.”
“How so?”
“He calls to me,” Aida murmured, gnawing upon the spiced meat in thought for a long while as she stared off into the shadows. “Not with words, and not only the sound he makes when he… Well, that. When that man grabbed me and Kal defended me, I found Er’it. Terrified, among all those people, I picked him out as if my eyes couldn’t have gone anywhere else.”
“His people would never have harmed you.” Maruk’s brow furrowed, lips slanted to the side as he cut a wedge of fresh apple free of the whole.
“Otaso said they would. He said only he could protect me and that if I disobeyed they would hurt me badly. Something about me would make them, that they would do horrible things to me. Er’it’s guards would have, the ones in Logoria, they were pulling at my clothes and tugging my hair before Er’it came. Earlier, in his tent… those men wanted to—”
“That was not your fault, child.”
“It was! It’s because I’m an Omega, that’s what Otaso said. He said that it’s all I’m good for and he was right, because it was all Er’it wanted me for before he realized what else he could have from me. It’s this-this thing I am that he values. He doesn’t even want me. He cannot help himself but to mount me because it’s all I am good for. When he… After the sacrifice, he’ll be free of whatever pull I have over him.”
