Er’it groaned as Tor’en’s voice rang through the courtyard, setting his forehead against Aida’s. There would be no sending them away now, not as the old mage and the others inspected the changed landscape and demanded answers to their questions. Oh, he could order them away still, but not without agitating them, and Aida would be saddened that her teacher was displeased.
He’d rip the heart out of anyone who dared put sadness in her eyes again.
“Come daybreak, you are mine, mate,” he said in a soft growl against Aida’s lips. A quick nip was all he gave her before turning to face the oncoming horde of robed figures as they descended upon them, already prattling their questions.
“So long?” Aida asked in a murmur, fingers toying with the cuff of his tunic. “By the time the moon wanes, we can be rid of them long enough to sneak away.”
Er’it’s laugh was long and loud.
Epilogue
All was not perfect simply because Er’it professed his love of her. While Aida basked in the myriad of emotions spilling over within her heart, she would never forget those first tumultuous months under his thumb, nor would she ever be free of the horrid memories of Otaso. Demanding he court her as would be proper for his queen, Aida tortured Er’it and forced him to keep his distance as they traveled the long roads back to his homeland. It was an agreement they’d come to after the Scaora tribes had slipped from the trees, their glittering eyes fixed upon Aida with haunting awareness. Once of Oscara itself, they’d renamed themselves and scattered into the blighted forest. Pretending they remembered nothing of the time before Otaso came and destroyed their land, they’d eked out miserable lives in relative secrecy. With the heir to the throne now among them, they became a fractured people. Half wanted Aida dead to fulfill a prophecy they deemed not yet finished, and the other wanted her to take on a crown that was never hers.
Everything became far more complicated when her belly began to swell. The life growing inside her demanded her protection, and Er’it’s aggression knew no bounds. Refusing to allow Er’it to stain his hands with yet more blood, and in her name no less, they’d set out toward Denath under a brilliant, pale blue sky with fluffy clouds and the promise of another snow.
She would never see another snow, not here in the clamoring city of Nalis, the capital of Denath. Sweltering heat that made the shifting black dunes waver upon the horizon were all that she could see beyond the city’s huge walls.
Aida puffed up her cheeks and smoothed the deep blue of her silken gown over her protruding belly. Er’it had lavished her with attention since their arrival while many women of the court sneered and glared. After all, how dare she, a foreigner with her own magic, ensnare their king? He hadn’t seen her in a fortnight, though, not since he went outside the city to show his face among the conquered lands within a day’s ride. And she grew fatter every day, huge in comparison to the tiny breadth of her waist before he’d first laid eyes upon her. He’d surely think her an ox when he saw her next, which wouldn’t be until he returned for their handfasting ceremony.
Letting her breath out in a frustrated sigh, Aida fluffed the folds of her gown and went to the balcony to pace. The intricate woodcuts allowed air and light through, but no one was able to see her staring down at them. It felt too much like her tower for comfort. She’d made friends to be sure, and there were plenty in the court who welcomed her with open arms, but Er’it was not comfortable leaving his pregnant Omega free to roam the halls without him, especially not after their return, upon which they’d discovered Endi had never arrived. Both she and the soldiers escorting her had proven impossible to find by the scrying mages.
Now she languished in her glorious rooms and hated them more each day.
Aida also missed Er’it. Every moment seemed to drag on in an endless loop of dreary wakefulness. No matter how many times she rearranged their bed, the mountainous terrain of soft blankets offered little comfort as his scent faded. She needed him.
With a shaky inhale, she stifled her sob. Scrubbing her palms over wet cheeks, uncaring of the smeared lines of kohl she left in their wake, Aida fought to keep her emotions under control. The larger her child grew, the longer this pregnancy went on, the more tenuous her grasp on her power became. It was far too easy to lash out with it, and no amount of Tor’en’s castigating could force her temper to lessen. The dull ache in her lower back and the infrequent pains across her belly only made controlling it more difficult.
She needed Er’it, Abyss curse him! His bloody Hat’or, as well, would be right to spit in his face for leaving her alone and awkward in this strange place, bereft of his touch and nearness. Aida’s cry was ragged and desolate as she threw herself into the nest, curling up into a tight ball to tug the still scented satin to her nose in a rumpled fistful.
The doors splintered as they burst open, the flimsy metal of the lock clattering across the cool tiles to come to a rest with a dull thump against a gilded wardrobe.
Er’it’s teeth were bared in a snarl, his amber gaze alight as he scanned the suite for some intruder, for the malignant presence that dared make his mate weep so. Stalking around the low bed, he gave experimental sniffs when he found no danger present.
“Who did this?” he asked on a subterranean rumble, gripping the tumble of Aida’s curls to drag her tight against his hip. Shoving her damp cheek against the coarseness of his brocade tunic, he continued to cast his gaze about, as if the one who caused her sorrow would present themselves.
“You did, you perfect ass,” Aida wailed, though she flung her arms around his waist. Burrowing against him, disregarding the way the adornment of his clothing scratched her face, she sucked in deep lungfuls of his scent. Each breath was let out with a broken sound, as if the loss of it pained her.
Er’it let her pull him down onto the bed, his furrowed brow refusing to smooth as Aida continued to cry. Careful of her massive belly, he gave a rough purr and matching caress that did nothing to comfort, refusing to do anything more than lie beside her as Aida pressed her open lips to his neck, shoulder, and beard-rough cheek.
“What is wrong with you?” Aida demanded in a snarl, wrenching his hair to turn his face to hers. “Why are you not mounting me?”
Er’it recoiled. With topaz eyes wide, he looked at Aida from crown to toe before meeting the tearful midnight blackness of her gaze once more. Aida wailed and shoved at his chest, her legs kicking at his where they tangled with her skirt. He didn’t want her. She’d grown too fat, too hideous for him, and now he regretted it all.
“You smell… different.” Brows crashing down, he pushed his face against Aida’s neck to take a deep breath, letting it out in a disgruntled rumble. “Are you well?”
“This is your excuse for not touching me?” Aida shrieked, scrambling from the bed to stalk toward the wide balcony and back. The dull ache grew, twisting through her middle to latch on with gnawing teeth.
“Are you ill,kou’vera?” Alarm flared in his amber gaze, his usual precise movements faltering as he hurried to follow Aida. Touching his hand to her forehead despite her snarl, he looked her over once more. “I will fetch Maruk.”
“I don’t want Maruk! I want my Abyss-cursed mate!”
Aida squeaked and slapped her hands over her thighs, the thick liquid spilling from her to drip upon the floors as frightening as it was humiliating. Babbling incoherent apologies as tears of shame welled in her eyes, she was unprepared for the sudden wrenching sensation ripping through her hips.
* * *
“I hate you,” Aida hissed, glaring through the dripping strands of her hair at the male pacing beyond the edge of the bed. “I will never lie with you again!”
“Careful,” Er’it murmured, narrowed gaze drawn to the tight swell of Aida’s belly as she groaned and doubled over once more.
