“Is she a danger?”
“I don’t know. That’s the problem!”
“We’ll sleep on it and address it again in the morning.” Rhyn gave a firm nod, cradling Aida with one arm beneath her backside, keeping his other hand free to ruffle Miyenth’s russet curls.
“You’re not leaving her with me?” Miyenth’s eyes rounded, her lips going slack before she regained her composure and resorted to scowling at Rhyn’s teasing smile.
“What, and risk these incredible breasts?”
“You’re not really going to bed her!”
Tilting his hand from side to side, Rhyn’s lips pulled down in consideration. “Perhaps I will. Perhaps I won’t. Truth remains that you can’t control her with your magic, and if it comes to physical strength, you’re near a match. I’ll not have that lot coming to rescue you.”
“I can take care of myself.” Miyenth crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes narrowing to vicious slits.
“I know.” Heading for the door, Rhyn set Aida on her feet and slung his arm around her shoulders, dragging her closer when Aida corrected the slumped posture he forced upon her. “Which is the problem. I’d never hear the end of it. Vrazys keep you, Miyenth.”
Leaving Miyenth to sputter and curse at their backs, Rhyn led Aida back through the darkness and toward the deeper blackness of the small hut. Smile easy, stride languid, he showed little care for the men who remained huddled around the paltry warmth of the central fire. At least, Aida thought he did, but as she glanced once more at the twisted flames and faces marred by the flickering light, Rhyn palmed the side of her face and pushed her into his chest. His chuckle was downright licentious as he dropped the arm from around her shoulders to land a light smack against her backside.
He let her shove him away after they entered the hut made of sticks, smiling all the while as Aida felt her way to the back wall to put more space between them. Eyes heavy-lidded, the rich sapphire of his gaze swept over her, lingering on the torn front of her tunic.
“You said you wouldn’t,” Aida stammered out as she clutched the loose folds of her skirt tighter, wishing she’d been dressed in the complicated layers of one of her gowns. Er’it’s tunic and the thin skirt offered little protection to reassure her.
“This night, no, but dawn is near, imp. Listen to the birds waking in their nests.”
Aida’s brows knit, a huff of breath squeezing from her lungs when she heard the telltale chirping murmur. It grew louder as each thundering heartbeat pounded in her chest. By the time she realized her mistake, it was far too late.
Rhyn’s hands closed on the ragged edges of the tunic, opening it with a hissing sigh of torn linen. Tugging it from Aida’s shoulders before she could do more than scream a denial, tangling her arms in it, he set to work on her skirt. It met the same bitter end, no matter how she kicked and writhed. A useless heap of scraps pooled at her feet while Rhyn loomed, the vibrant pink of his tongue sweeping out over his bottom lip as he drank in the sight of her.
“Incredible,” Rhyn husked, sliding the back of his knuckles down the side swell of her breast, continuing to sample the curve of her waist. He tested the softness there, hand folding over the shelf of her hip to dig his fingers deep into the flesh of her backside.
Aida bit her lower lip hard, wishing the Abyss to open beneath her feet in that moment. Part of her was terrified she’d like what Rhyn promised to do with his coarse touch as he turned Aida this way and that to see her better. Another part hoped she did, that whatever connection held her fast to the thought of Er’it was nothing but a fantasy, easy to replace with the visage of another male. She knew it for a lie, though, shivering as Rhyn’s rough fingertips tripped down her spine.
“Ah, Vrazys take me,” Rhyn groaned, catching Aida by the waist and carrying her to a pile of thick furs and silken duvets. Tumbling her amidst the cozy mess before following her down, stretched out and more than twice her size, he tucked her under his bulk and wrapped his legs around hers, his arms hugging Aida around her middle. Hands clamped over her biceps, she’d be going nowhere soon. Facing the wrapped canes of the wall, she could do nothing but stare at the faint shadows dancing.
“What—”
“Sleep, imp.”
“My clothes…”
“Don’t need them while you’re sleeping. Now shut your mouth before I put it to good use.” Rhyn nuzzled the space between her neck and shoulder, the stiff bristles on his chin grinding over the tender skin.
“I’m cold,” Aida whispered, and it wasn’t a complete lie. She expected Rhyn’s low grunt but not how he disentangled himself to haul a bevy of coverings up to Aida’s ears before cocooning her in his body once more.
Even with everything that had happened, the endless nights and emotional turmoil on top of the sudden physical burdens she’d endured, Aida didn’t count on sleep finding her. Yet with Rhyn’s intense heat seeping through the layers of cloth and hide deep into her bones and his quiet breaths warming her neck, her lashes fluttered and refused to open again.
Chapter 2
Er’it
She was gone. Disappearing with the damned thieves into the night, she didn’t just leave but went willingly. Offering herself up like some prized lamb for the slaughter, her naïve trust that she wouldn’t be harmed baffled Er’it.
“Spread out more,” he shouted, his sword swinging through the underbrush to reveal the fallow earth beneath. Searching for any sign of the horses the scoundrels rode, Er’it denied that his heart hammered away in his chest, dreading the appearance of old blood.
“Majesty, we’ve been searching since dawn,” Ath’asho said, panting with the exertion of heaving his sword again as he cleared away scrub several feet from Er’it’s side.
“You’ll keep searching until we find her!”
