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“Again,” Galon said.
I sucked in a breath and hit the folded-up bedroll once more. Galon thrust his hand out toward me, and I slid to the side,
knocking his hand away with my forearm before striking with my elbow.
According to the mercenaries, Tibris had laid a decent foundation with my training. But that foundation had no roof, and the walls were falling down around me.
Whatever that meant.
Galon’s answer to my weaknesses was drills. Constant, never-ending drills.
Apparently, half of staying alive came down to reflexes. People who could defend themselves automatically—their body responding to an attack the same way it had a thousand times before—were much more likely to survive.
When I was finished warming up, and I’d completed Galon’s drills, the men took turns attacking me in new and creative ways. Each of them had something to offer, although Galon was in charge of my physical training.
I tripped Marth and kicked him in the ribs. Since I didn’t really want to hurt him, I kept the kick light. Galon scowled at me. “You don’t just hit once. You hit them until they stop moving,” Galon said.
I winced, but he was right. Once I lost the element of surprise, I was in big trouble. The only reason I’d managed to stay alive so far was because men continued to underestimate me.
Long may it last.
Lorian stood from where he’d been leaning against a tree trunk, watching everything through narrowed eyes.
“We need to leave,” he said.
I panted out a breath, grateful for the reprieve. Although I didn’t enjoy the fact that it had come from Lorian.
“You’re riding with me,” Lorian said. The expression on his face dared me to argue. If I protested, he’d throw me over his shoulder and dump me on his horse, making it clear that no matter how much I trained, I was useless compared to him.
I itched with the need to stop time and mount one of the other men’s horses.
Curling my lip at him, I stalked toward his horse. “Hello, darling,” I crooned, patting him on the neck. He lipped at my hand, and I laughed. Lorian still hadn’t told me his horse’s name. It was yet another way to annoy me.
I no longer felt like the days were disappearing beneath me. Now, they’d slowed to a crawl as our horses trod on, day after day.
Even though the thought of the city sometimes made my mouth turn dry and my stomach churn, I still longed for it. Right now, I was stuck with no way back, only forward, and the sooner I got to the city, the sooner I could find a ship and a new life.
Mama had said she’d kidnapped me from my real parents. They’d probably assumed I was dead all this time. Didn’t they deserve to know the truth as well?
“What are you thinking about?” Lorian’s voice was low in my ear.
“You know, for a man who refuses to tell me anything about himself, you sure think you’re entitled to my every thought.”
He chuckled, and I attempted to ignore just how much that sound made me want to grin.
Surprisingly, Lorian hadn’t said a word after his meeting with the fae. I’d struggled to stay awake that night, but I’d eventually told myself that if he wanted me dead, he could reach out and snap my neck while I was awake. Now, neither of us spoke of the fae they’d been meeting. I was pretty sure he knew I’d been spying. He’d definitely seen evidence that I’d been crawling around in the dirt, away from Galon’s keen eye. But Lorian was tricky. He’d likely guessed that not mentioning it would make me crazed.
We approached the outskirts of the town Lorian had decided we would stop in tonight, and I pulled my hair over my face, flipping up the hood of my cloak. “We’re staying at the inn on the other side of this town, closer to the city,” Lorian said.
If I didn’t know him better, I’d think that was an attempt to make me less afraid. But Lorian enjoyed my fear. He’d made that much clear when he’d pulled that rope out of his pocket by the river.
After this, we would be traveling for just one more night, and then we would arrive at the city gates. Nerves fluttered in my stomach at the thought.
My legs were aching when we dismounted. Lorian took my arm and I stiffened, but he ignored me, practically dragging me into the inn as the others followed closely behind.
“My wife and I need a room,” he said.
I went still. This man was determined to keep me off-balance.
The innkeeper’s gaze dropped to my empty wrist, which would have been encircled with a wedding bracelet had I actually been married. My hair was pulled in front of my shoulders and covering my temples, but the innkeeper still glanced at the side of my face, as if searching for the blue mark that would proclaim me old enough to be wed.
Lorian leaned close. “Is there a problem?”
“N-no. Of course not. You’re in luck today. We have our best room available.”
I closed my eyes, my cheeks burning.
Lorian’s mouth curved as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and leaned close. “Did you hear that, sweetheart? The best room.” He turned back to the innkeeper. “We’ll take it.”
One day, I would make this man pay for every drop of mortification I’d felt in his presence.
The innkeeper handed over the keys, and I glanced behind me at the others, ignoring Rythos’s snort, Marth’s grin, and even the hint of amusement in Galon’s eyes. As usual, Cavis was staring into the distance, deep in thought.
“Rooms include dinner and breakfast,” the innkeeper said.
“Good,” Marth muttered. “Please tell me it’s anything but rabbit.”
Offense crossed Rythos’s face. “You don’t like it? Maybe you should cook your own food.”
Leaving the men to bicker, I checked the hood of my cloak and wandered into the main room, where a fire was currently roaring in one corner. Lorian prowled after me, practically breathing down my neck.
“What’s the matter?” he purred. “I thought you didn’t want to sleep alone.”
The mercenary was in a playful mood. Clearly, I wasn’t the only one looking forward to a roof over my head tonight.
“I don’t,” I said coolly. “But I’d prefer that no one thought I was stupid enough to marry a coldhearted brute like yourself.”
He gave me a knowing look that made me grind my teeth. By the time we got to the city, my teeth would be little more than dust.
Dropping into his chair, Lorian pulled me down next to him and surveyed the inn. Across the room, a barmaid was pouring ale for a group of travelers who were just as dusty—and likely as road-weary—as us. She looked up and winked at Lorian, her tongue darting out to lick her lips. When I glanced at him, he was looking at me, the hint of a smile on his face.
“What?”
The smile disappeared, his expression falling into its usual neutrality. I sighed and got to my feet. He instantly clamped his hand around my wrist.
“Let go,” I growled.
“You go nowhere alone.”
I knew that resolved expression. The brute wasn’t going to change his mind. After what had happened the last time we were in an inn just like this one…
Lorian waved the barmaid over, and she swung her hips in a way I knew I could never replicate. Not that I wanted to.
“Water,” Lorian said. “Please,” I gritted out.
The barmaid didn’t seem to have a problem with his gruff tone and lack of manners. She smiled widely at him and filled our cups.
“Food and ale?” she smiled.
He nodded, and she sauntered away toward the kitchen.
Marth strolled over, sending the barmaid his I-know-you-want-me smile. Her eyes lit up, and I shook my head at him.
I missed the company of other women so much sometimes. Missed my best friend even more. What would Asinia think of me now?
If not for the fact that I was one of the corrupt, she would likely find the fact that I was traveling alone with five men both hilarious and titillating.
“You’re quiet,” Rythos said. “I’m tired.”
Rythos just nudged me, hard enough that I wobbled on the rickety stool.
Lorian sent him a warning look.
The barmaid returned with plates of some kind of meat, root vegetables, and bread, which she placed in front of us. The bread was fresh, and I took a bite, my stomach awakening as the other men sat down and began stuffing food into their mouths.
The barmaid leaned over the table, revealing the tops of large, round breasts, and gave Marth a saucy grin.
She shifted her attention to me. “Now which of these fine men is yours?”
Lorian snorted. That. Was. It.
“Well,” I said. “This is a little…awkward…”
The barmaid’s eyes lit up, and she leaned closer. “It is?”
“It’s just that…they’re all mine.” I surveyed the men as I said it, grinning at their reactions.
A chunk of meat fell from Rythos’s mouth. Cavis’s eyes widened, while Marth choked on his ale. Galon closed his eyes and muttered something that sounded like “young enough to be my daughter.”
Lorian just looked at me, irritation clear in his eyes.
I smiled a smug little smile that was guaranteed to annoy him even more. I had to get my enjoyment where I could find it.
The barmaid’s mouth had fallen open.
“She’s just joking,” Marth ground out, obviously seeing his chances with her going up in smoke. “Tell her, Prisca.”
“Don’t say that, darling,” I crooned. “I promise you’ll get your turn with me eventually.”
I didn’t know what had come over me. From the horror on Marth’s face, neither did he.
I’d expected Lorian to snarl. Instead, he leaned close. So close, my body hummed with awareness. So close, I could barely breathe.
“My wife has a…filthy mouth,” he purred, his gaze dropping to my lips.
I licked my lips, and he leaned even closer. Galon slammed his cup on the table, and I jolted.
Lorian launched to his feet, pulling me up with him. “Are you finished?”
I glanced down at my empty plate and beamed at the barmaid. “I am.
That was delicious, thank you.”
The look Lorian sent me made it clear he wasn’t talking about the food. I wrapped both my arms around one of his, determined that he wouldn’t win. He stiffened, brow lowering.
“Let’s go to our room.” I winked at the others. “I’ll see you all later.”
“Enough,” Lorian said, hauling me toward the stairs. “You’ve had your fun.”
I glanced at him. I was expecting him to growl at me. What I wasn’t expecting was the way his shoulders shook, or the way he pulled me close, holding on to me as his chest rumbled with his laugh. “Did you see Galon’s face?”
The older man’s horrified expression flashed in front of my eyes, and I giggled. “His daughter,” I got out, almost folding in two as fresh laughter erupted from me.
Lorian stopped laughing first, his gaze on my face. His expression had turned gentle, almost indulgent. He was so close that I could see the darker green flecks in his eyes. The moment stretched, and my heart began thumping erratically.
“What is it?”
He cleared his throat. “Nothing.” Pulling the key from his pocket, he glanced down at the number. “Let’s get settled.”
I followed him up the rest of the stairs and to the right. Our room was on this floor at the end of the hall.
Lorian swung the door open, taking in the “best room.”
The sound that came out of me was an embarrassing moan of pure want. Lorian stiffened, and I glanced up at him then back at the bath, which had been drawn while we were eating. He chuckled.
“I’ll leave you to bathe.” He dropped his bag on the floor and gently pushed me farther into the room so he could shut the door.
I’d bathed in the river that morning. But that had involved shivering until it felt like my bones would break and cursing at the lack of soap. Now, I could laze in this cracked, clawed tub for as long as I liked.
My clothes hit the floor within moments, and I was stepping into the bath, sighing as I leaned back in the candlelight. The water was almost too hot—just the way I liked it—and whoever had drawn the bath had left behind vanilla-scented soap.
This. Was. Paradise.
I lathered every inch of myself, washed my hair, and leaned back once more.
Teasing Lorian, finally hearing him laugh…had been…fun. I’d thought I’d annoy him—and had been just fine with that idea—but hearing the rough mercenary truly laugh for the first time… Our eyes meeting without the usual rancor…
It had been nice. That was all. A nice, enjoyable moment in an otherwise monotonous travel day.
A moment that had—for reasons I didn’t understand—reminded me of my parents.
Gods, they’d laughed so often. They’d rarely fought, unless it was over me. The worst was when my parents took us to a wedding in the village. It was before we moved to our last village. The one I’d just…left.
I couldn’t recall who exactly was married that day, but I’d never forget the way the bride’s smile lit up her face when they vowed to be true to each other for all time.
When the groom took her in his arms and kissed her, the whole village cheered. I’d sighed, laying my head against my mother’s hip.
“I’m going to get married one day,” I’d announced. “Here in the village.”
My father had given me his amused, patient look. My mother had been battling a headache all day, and her voice had been sharp.
“No, you won’t, Prisca. Such things are not for you.”
My father’s expression had tightened, and he’d wrapped his arm around me. “Vuena,” he’d said warningly, and my mother had given him an impatient shrug.
“She needs to learn now. Better than to be disappointed later.”
“Let her have her dreams,” my father said softly. They hadn’t talked for the rest of the day.
A few months later, I’d learned exactly why such things weren’t for me. That was the first time I’d pulled that strange thread that had made time stop. But I’d vowed I would find a way to change my fate.
My mother continued to remind me I was different each time there was a wedding or a baby born or any of the other happy milestones of life.
“Prisca,” she would say, when my father was busy elsewhere. “Remember, this is not for you.”
And of course, like most people, the more I was told something wasn’t for me, the more I wanted it.
A knock sounded on the door.
I startled, an embarrassing squeak leaving my mouth. “One moment.”
Reaching for the bath sheet, I stood, wrapping it around me. The room was freezing, and I huddled by the tiny fire as I dragged on one of the mercenary’s shirts. Sure, they’d given me clothes, but I’d convinced them to let me keep a few of their shirts for sleeping.
“Who is it?” “Lorian.”
“You can come in,” I called, and Lorian stepped inside. His eyes went dark, and I glanced down to see the shirt clinging to my damp skin, my nipples pressed against the cloth.
“That’s my shirt,” he said. Was his voice hoarse? “Well, you can’t have it back.”
He rubbed his hand along his chin, still staring at me, and my toes curled on the cold floor. His gaze dropped to them, and he jerked his head toward the bed. “You’re cold. Get into bed.”
I complied. He began to strip.
My heart jumped into my throat. “What are you doing?”
“There’s still steam rising off that water, wildcat. If you think I’m letting a warm bath go to waste…”
That was my stomach swooping like I was on the edge of a precipice. “I can leave…”
“You’re not going anywhere alone. Close your eyes if the sight of a male body offends a lady as meek and modest as yourself.”
His tone implied there was nothing meek or modest about me. I glowered at his back. His skin was smooth, tanned, with thin white scars along his ribs, his back, his shoulders. He had the body of a warrior, and as his hands dropped to his pants, those muscles in his back rippled smoothly.
His shoulders were so…wide. I’d never seen a man built like him until the day I’d met the mercenaries.
The thought of that river should have dampened the strange, warm feeling in my stomach, but Lorian’s pants dropped to the floor and I sucked in a breath.
He slowly turned his head, and our eyes met. His smile was very male. And very smug.
Don’t do it. Don’t you dare do it.
My gaze dropped to his toned ass, and I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry.
“See something you like?” Lorian purred. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”
He chuckled, turning to the bath, and I slammed my eyes shut. It wasn’t fair that he was so annoying and yet so fucking perfect.
Splashing sounded, and I cracked my eyes open. Lorian wouldn’t know I was watching him in the dim light.
I was pretty sure.
He reached for the soap. The thought of him smelling like vanilla was enough to make me smirk. But he ran his hands over his body roughly, until I practically itched to push those hands away and caress every inch of him.
What was I thinking?
I closed my eyes once more. “You did well today,” Lorian murmured, his voice low. Intimate. As if we were that couple I’d watched when I was a young girl and we bathed in front of each other every day. “With Galon. Your fighting is improving.”
It took me a few tries to reply. “Thank you.”
More infernal splashing. I didn’t understand how I could loathe
someone on such a deep level…and then fantasize about his body this way.
It was a stress response. It had to be. I was alone, and my body was reacting to Lorian because it knew he would keep me safe.
I barely suppressed a snort. That thought was weak, even for me.
Lorian stood. I knew that, because I’d opened my eyes to slits once more. He stood facing me, his expression thoughtful as he reached for the bath sheet.
His chest looked like it had been carved from rock. He roughly swiped that bath sheet over his stomach and…lower.
Even his cock was disgustingly perfect. Long and thick and smooth and
—
Stop staring at his cock.
I swallowed. Lorian arched his back in a stretch, and I closed my eyes,
my body hot and feverish. Awareness crackled over my skin, my core throbbed, and I forced myself to roll over and face the wall.
I could have sworn I was too worked up to fall asleep, but I somehow managed to drift off. Movement made me jolt awake. He was finally getting into bed. I had a sneaking suspicion he was still naked. The thought removed any hope of sleep.
I could feel his gaze on me, and I rolled over. His green eyes shone like a cat’s in the dim light.
He leaned closer. His eyes were so dark they appeared black. I breathed him in. His gaze dropped to my lips, and every muscle in my body went weak. My core clenched. Heat pooled in my stomach…
But I had to know.
“Why are you working with the fae?”
He went still in that strange way of his. It was as if he channeled all his anger and frustration into turning his muscles to stone.
“Go to sleep.” He rolled over.
I blew out a shaky breath and turned onto my side. I knew when a man wanted me. And Lorian wanted me. The thought was heady.
“Sleep,” he ordered once more.
My cheeks blazing, I closed my eyes and willed myself to sleep.
