“Why?”
“You do not understand the world and the pain it brings.”
“I understand plenty of pain.”
The vehemence of her quiet, growling tone tugged Er’it’s lips down. Eyebrows drawn tight, he gripped Aida’s chin to force her to look at him. He gave her a warning when she refused to meet his searching gaze, though the reprimand crawled down his throat to suffocate him by degrees when she turned the watery blackness of her eyes to him.
So miserable he felt the ache of it wringing through his chest, he held Aida tighter. Uncaring if he bruised her delicate skin as he sought to remove the very thought of space between them, he purred loud and long to force that look from her gaze. When she failed to respond to his comfort, Er’it shuffled her clothing to bare her shoulder. The scabbed ring of where his teeth had left their imprint on her called to him, a pulsing energy that drew his attention like a compass. He didn’t need to see it to lay a soft kiss there. He licked at the reddened flesh surrounding it to soothe the sting before giving her a soft nip. Still, the sight of her bare skin never ceased to amaze him.
It also never failed to arouse him.
Giving a quiet call, Er’it reached for the hem of her tunic. He ignored her batting hands and low whines as he tugged the garment up to reveal the pale gold of her belly to his hungry gaze. Feasting on the glimpses of her flesh as he struggled to keep her close and undress her, Er’it paid attention to little else. Drunk on her scent as her body reacted no matter her writhing, he ducked his head to lick a long line from the waist of the trousers to the gentle swell of her breasts. Voicing his irritation, he tugged at the knotted belt and vowed to clothe her in a dress the next time he allowed her any clothing at all. For now, he would live between her straining thighs and glut himself on her glorious scent.
Her dainty palm connecting with his cheek brought him from the hazy arousal with the same effectiveness as a bucket of ice water. He roared at the challenge, amazed when Aida voiced a broken growl and shoved at his chest. Er’it got his knees under him to pull her beneath his weight, his grip on the cursed belt bowing her back from the cushions. Sparks of blue light snapped through the air, showering down around them as Aida snarled and slammed her fists against his chest and shoulders.
“No!” Aida screamed. Her hand missing its mark, the tight fist thumped against the side of Er’it’s neck.
“You will stop this at once,” Er’it said through a growl, putting their faces close. Inhaling deep through his nose, he took in her incredible snow and spring scent and wondered at the languid heat pervading his limbs. Losing himself in it and her, he buried his face against her neck with a vicious call resonating through his chest and into hers.
Still, she denied him, snarling and hissing as she pummeled his head and shoulders. Er’it sensed the movement of her leg seconds before she acted. Dropping the unforgiving weight of his body onto hers, he pinned the offending knee to the cushion before Aida could strike.
Raising his head, Er’it pinched her cheeks between his fingers to keep her blazing eyes focused on his. “What do you think you are doing?”
Aida had the audacity to look unconcerned as she jerked her head, trying to pry her chin from his fingers. Pursed lips mangling her words, she managed to snarl, “Stopping you from hurting me.”
Er’it gave a slow blink before releasing her. Easing his body back, he kept a hand splayed over her thighs until he was well clear of any danger they might present before he sat back on his heels. Brows drawn down into a tight line, he contemplated his little Omega as she scrambled away to huddle against the large chests. It was a defensive move, keeping her back to a solid object so he couldn’t attack from behind.
That was what she felt. Er’it knew it down to the marrow of his bones. Aida saw his touch and need as an assault. Lips thinning, he realized the idea did not give him near as much satisfaction as it might have.
Giving a short roar of dissatisfaction at the turn of events, at the way his insides churned and twisted, Er’it launched to his feet and stormed from the tent. In search of something that did not make bile sear the back of his throat as a cold chill swept through him, he stumbled upon Tor’en and his small fire, where a bevy of young men listened with rapt attention to some story. Most of them exaggerated if not complete falsehoods, they never ceased to entertain or amaze.
The veritable light flickered on within his thoughts, an entire sun’s worth of it puffing his chest as he changed directions and stalked back to the tent. Aida was just uncurling from her defensive posture when he stormed through the flap. Her indelicate squawk of fear was as jagged lightning stabbing into his heart and lungs. Precious organs locked in crackling fire, he gritted his teeth and hauled her after him without hesitating to explain. Dragging Aida the last few yards, Er’it kicked her feet out from under her to deposit Aida close to the fire. Still far from the young men who stared at the ground between their upturned knees with wide, terrified eyes, he placed her close enough she would not feel left out.
“Tell them the one about the sandstorm,” Er’it ground out before he dropped to a crouch behind Aida to keep her penned against the warmth offered by the flickering flames.
Chapter 13
Aida
Narrowed eyes peering from the deep well of the fur she used as a cloak, Aida stared at her captor and master from the safety of the cart. She didn’t trust this new turn in his behavior but couldn’t fathom what game he played.
While she could never accuse him of being soft or gentle, his actions were far less harsh. He smiled at her often, something that seemed to disturb many of their troop. He not only allowed but encouraged her to speak with Tor’en and Maruk, insisting she take lessons from both in their arts of magic. Aida understood it was to control the unpredictable surges of her power that seemed to grow all the stronger the closer they came to the ruins of a city she did not remember, but she couldn’t deny her fascination and eagerness either.
Er’it also no longer forced her to spread her legs for him. At night, safe from the bitter winds and light snows that had begun to fall, his hands and lips held a question. Not to say he accepted her rebukes without argument, or that Aida herself did not fall into his heady warmth and the bliss Er’it offered more often than not, but it still began with a silent request hidden within a caress or kiss.
Tor’en suggested it had something to do with her actions, though he said it with a rolling shrug of his broad shoulders. Sapping Er’it of his magic, years of reserves depleted with a single thought, she’d left none of the evil, bloody power at his call… at least, not until he killed again. As they traveled the long-abandoned road, Aida saw few chances for Er’it to achieve even a glimmer of his previous strength.
A week past, he’d dragged her to Tor’en’s fire, letting her listen to the stories the mage told the young soldiers. She’d learned some of their land, their goddesses, and even Er’it himself. Days followed, full of Er’it’s constant attention, whether he remained beside her or within sight. Little gifts were bestowed upon her at random intervals, no rhyme or reason for some while others were of a more practical nature. The sticks to bind her hair made sense, but the strange symbols he’d carved into them made none. Tor’en said they were simple protection glyphs, but Aida was uncertain she believed him given the twinkle in his dark eyes.
Huffing a sigh, Aida settled back against the trunk and fluffed the warm folds of her furs. The snows were a constant now, though they were light. Er’it’s people seemed unused to such cold, many of them huddling over fires and deep within their bundled layers. Strangely enough, Kal and Aida were the ones to enjoy it. A carefree moment spent with the Phylix, laughing and tossing handfuls of fluffy snow up into the air, was one to be cherished for what remained of her days… as would the memory of Er’it enfolding her in his heat and dragging her to the fire, grumbling about her reddened hands as he rubbed them between his.
“Your control is slipping, girl,” Tor’en snapped from the driver’s bench he shared with Zaec. Bushy brows forming a thick line across his forehead, he scowled at Aida.
“It is…” Aida trailed off as her chin dipped in reflex to the reprimand, taking in the view of her glowing hands. Clenching them into tight fists, the iridescent blue dissipated and drifted away in wisps of smoky brilliance as she willed herself to calm and breathe deeply. “…not?”
“You must control your emotions, child,” Maruk added from the back of the cart, craning his long neck to see Aida around the large trunks holding their possessions.
“I am trying!”
