by Ruby Dixon
53
I can feel myself blushing. “Maybe I just wanted to feel pretty.”
“Uh huh,” she says, unconvinced. Her expression turns gentle, sisterly. “Look, I know what it’s like. You think I haven’t been sold to a dozen masters before? You’re only as safe as your master’s favor extends. I understand the need to secure yourself. And I want to help you, because if he’s happy with you, we’re all safe.”
I don’t know what to say to that. “Thank you?”
Yulenna just smiles. “This is the best moment of your life. You have the favor of the gods. Use it. Enjoy it. Get everything you can out of it.”
She thinks this is the best moment in my life? Seriously? I open my mouth to protest, because the world I came from is so much better than this one, when a servant rushes through the door. “The lord of storms is coming,” she says, breathless. The other servants in the room scramble to get out, and Vitar rises from the cot with a yawn, moving toward the door to take his post.
Yulenna studies me for a moment, then puts a hand to the back of my neck and pulls me against her in a kiss. Her mouth works against mine, her lips shockingly soft, and then she bites my lower lip and slicks her tongue over it before releasing me.
I just gape at her.
“There,” she says, pleased. “Now you look like you’re ready to fuck. He’ll like that.” She winks at me, gathers her skirts, and follows the other servants out of the room.
I stand there, alone, my mouth throbbing from her kiss. I can’t believe she just kissed me. How weird. Her mouth was a startling contrast to Aron’s, too. I think I like his better, though. I touch my lips, wondering if I look as distracted as I feel. It takes me a moment to shake myself out of it, and then I move back to the reclining couch just as Aron enters. I pick up my goblet of wine and hold it as I try to look sexy.
He storms into the room, tossing off his cloak and throwing it down on the bed. “Idiots,” he mutters under his breath. “An entire keep full of fools.”
“Hi there,” I say, and manage to take a tiny sip of wine. “How was your day, dear?”
Aron pauses in his tirade, mid-removal of his sword belt, and looks over at me. He’s wearing one of the long, fur-lined tunics that these people favor and it covers him practically from head to toe. His big thighs are encased in fur-lined leggings and he looks like a mountain man, ready to take on the snowy peaks surrounding Novoro. Kind of hilarious, given that I’m dressed in something that would bring zero warmth. I guess the ladies of Novoro don’t leave home much.
He slowly approaches me, his gaze locked on my body. My nipples prick under the fabric and I carefully set down the goblet of wine again and rest my arm on my hips. I’m half reclined on the couch and pillows, propped up on my side so I can show off my body. And he’s looking, all right. He’s looking real, real hard.
“New dress?” he finally says.
I smooth the fabric over my thigh. “Thought I’d wear something pretty since I’m going to be sitting around here until we leave.” Remembering Yulenna’s advice, I lick my kiss-swollen lips.
His gaze flicks there and lingers for a moment, then drops back to my nearly bared body. He’s seen me naked before, but this is different. Things are slowly changing between us, and we’re both utterly aware of it. “Is this because of our conversation last night?”
“Maybe I just wanted to enjoy a nice day of pampering?” I keep my voice light.
Aron snorts and strips off his tunic, holding it out to me. “You can be pampered in something like this just as easily.”
I ignore it. “So you don’t like my dress?” I slide a hand up to my breast, almost touching my nipple, and love that his eyes follow me. The air’s getting heavy, and I can practically feel it crackling with the force of his internal “storm.” For some reason, I find that sexy as hell.
“You will not wear this?”
“Nope.”
He shrugs and turns toward the door, pulling out his knife.
“Wait, where are you going?”
“To remove the men’s eyes so they don’t look upon you.”
I yelp and scramble for the tunic he tossed to the floor. “Aron, don’t you fucking dare!” I snag the tunic and hold it to my chest. “Just wait, okay?”
He turns around slowly as I hurry over to him in bare feet, his expression impossible to read. “If you will not cover your body, I’ll make sure they can’t see it.”
“I’m getting dressed, you son of a bitch,” I mutter, pulling the tunic over my head. When I slide it onto my shoulders, it hangs over me like an oversized sleeping bag. “Heaven forbid a girl want to look sexy,” I mutter, and then to my astonishment, his lips twitch.
That asshole. He’s teasing!
I reach out and smack his arm. “You jerk! You scared the shit out of me!”
“Did I?” His smile grows wider. “That wasn’t your goal, then? To entice me in a jealous rage to blind the others?”
“No, you ass.” I give his arm another little swat. “Maybe I just wanted you to enjoy looking at me. Dick.”
He grabs my free swinging braid and wraps it around his hand, dragging me forward. It tugs gently on my hair, but he knows his strength and he’s utterly careful. “Faith, I always enjoy looking at you. It does not matter if you’re covered in mud and wearing a monk’s clothing, or wearing nothing but suds from your bath. I always enjoy looking.” His voice is a silky, low caress that makes heat pool between my thighs. “Which is why I don’t like the thought of others doing so.”
“You being a jealous dick should not turn me on,” I tell him, breathless. I’m fascinated by the nearness of his hard mouth, the way he’s pulled me so close that I can feel the heat and electricity coming off of him in waves.
“I’m not jealous.”
“Then you weren’t going to cut out Markos’s eyes?”
“He doesn’t look at you. Now Solat and Vitar…”
“No,” I say, smacking his bare chest lightly again. I want to put my hands all over that chest, but he’s made it clear where I stand with him. Still…this is flirting, isn’t it? And it’s making my heart race with excitement even though he says we can’t be anything. “No eyeball removal.”
“Their cocks, then.”
“No.”
“Then you’ll wear my tunic and stop showing off what’s mine?” He arches that arrogant brow at me.
I sputter. “Yours?”
He pulls me closer to him, until our mouths are almost touching. “Aren’t you mine, Faith? We’re connected in every single way.”
“Not every way,” I point out, and touch a finger to the ab line just above his belly button. I’m shocked at how quickly we’re progressing. It’s like the Novoran party broke something open between us. Before it was just sniping and a bit of casual flirting. Now? Now it seems to be a lot more. I trail my fingers up the muscled ridges of his belly.
His eyes flare with possessive heat and electricity crackles between us.
“Faith.”
I love the way he says my name. “Yes?”
“You are not going to dinner tonight.”
That…wasn’t what I expected to hear him say. “Huh?”
Aron’s gaze moves over me in a heated caress. “I don’t want them looking at you. Thinking about having you. I want you up here and safe and mine alone.”
For some reason, that makes me feel…good. I don’t want to go down, either. “But you’ll still come to bed with me?”
He nods.
“And you won’t let them put some lady-candy on your lap just because you’re the lord of storms?” And I reach up and twine my fingers in his long, silky hair, holding him against me like he holds me against him.
“They will not dare, precisely because I am the lord of storms.” But he’s smiling.
“Good.” He doesn’t release my hair, so I don’t release his. Aron’s mouth is so close, I could close the distance and kiss him…but I won’t. So I just ask, “How much longer
are we staying?”
“A day, maybe two. Ravens have been sent out to retrieve information. We’ll wait for their return, and then leave.”
Makes sense. “Are we taking any of their troops with us?” I think of how eager Lord Novoro was to volunteer his people, and how insulted he was when Aron didn’t take him up on it.
Aron snorts. “Absolutely not. Bad enough that we have these other fools.”
“Be nice.” I grin. “I like those fools.”
“I don’t, because we’re not alone.”
How can I be mad about that?
54
We end up staying in Novoro for a few more days to rest up our woales and to rebuild our supplies. The Novorans are totally fine with this. They want to continually celebrate Aron’s presence in their midst, so another banquet is thrown.
This time, Aron won’t let me leave his rooms. He makes Yulenna stay with me, and the three soldiers keep guard at our door. I’m not sad about it, because the last party was not exactly what I’d expected. In fact, I’m exceedingly nervous as Aron goes down to the party alone because I imagine all kinds of women throwing themselves at his godlike feet, but when he comes back up several hours later, he’s irritated and bored because all the Novorans want to do to “honor” him is have sex with each other and feast.
I’m a terrible person, because I’m secretly pleased at how disgusted he is at their idea of a good time. It just means he won’t be tempted. Not that we’re together…but in my mind, he belongs to me and the thought of him touching another woman makes me want to scratch her eyes out.
And then scratch his eyes out too, just for good measure.
After that evening, though, the Novorans wise up to the fact that Aron isn’t on board with their way of partying, and the celebrations change into a several-days-long fighting tournament. Again, not something I can really participate in, and Aron gets weird whenever someone looks at me, so I stay inside. I can see the fighting in the courtyard below and Aron is in the mix with the Novorans, clearly enjoying himself.
He always wins, too. I’m pretty sure they let him win—who wants to be the one to beat a god?—but he enjoys himself nevertheless and so we stay at Novoro for longer.
This means Yulenna and I spend a lot of time together. We work on sewing, since it’s what Yulenna does in her spare time. She sews embroidery onto the delicate edges of her gowns, and I sew pockets into my traveling tunics, because pockets are awesome. As we sew, we talk, and I learn that I like Yulenna quite a bit. She’s smarter than she lets on and knows a lot about this world that I don’t, so I try to pry information out of her without giving away how little I actually know. I think she suspects that I’m not from anywhere around here, but she’s smart enough to not ask.
Since we’re spending so much time in our room together, Markos, Solat, Kerren and Vitar spend a lot of time with us, too. They watch us in shifts, one man at Aron’s side at all times, two at our door, and one resting, so someone is always on guard.
I get to know them pretty well, too, and after a while it’s like spending time with old friends. Solat ends up being the life of the party, sitting with us, flirting with Yulenna and then telling all kinds of stories of things he’d seen in Novoro or tales of his time before he served Aron, when he was a mercenary for a fat lord in Glistentide that had more money than sense. Most of his stories are completely hilarious, involve him being caught with his pants down, and having to run for his life on to the next job. We end up looking forward to Solat’s arrival every day, just to hear more of his ridiculous tales.
This particular day starts out like any other. Aron heads off to enjoy the tournament, which means Yulenna and I are sewing. Solat stops by to see how we’re doing and before long, he’s invited himself to sit down and eat with us, telling another story of how he met a “murderous” concubine who was arrested for assassinating an emperor, even as Solat hid inside her trunk, naked, and quivered like a chicken while holding his balls.
The image of him sniveling in hiding while holding his junk? I admit, it’s pretty funny, and I’m giggling madly when the door opens.
Aron storms in, sweaty and dirty from the tournaments. He sees us laughing, and Solat’s feet are kicked up on one of the decorative tables. I’m the first one to see Aron come through the door, and my laughter dies in my throat at the furious look on his face.
Solat has his back to him. He gives me a disarming wink. “You needn’t worry about my balls, Faith. I assure you they’re all in one place.
“Not for long,” Aron growls behind him.
The color drains from Solat’s face. He jumps to his feet, back stiffening. “My lord.”
Aron immediately moves in front of my chair, as if he’s blocking me from Solat’s sight. “Are you flirting with Faith?” His hands flex, and I realize he’s inches away from pulling his sword. “Is this what goes on in my chambers when I am away?”
Oh shit.
Solat goes pale. “My lord…no. I would never…she is yours!”
Yulenna is instantly still, her gaze averted. She says nothing, but her sewing is frozen mid-stitch. Markos and Vitar watch from the doorway, worry etched in their faces, and I realize just how dangerous this is. We’ve all been joking around and having a good time, getting to know each other and acting like friends.
Because we’re mortals. It’s what mortals do.
But Aron is a god, and I’m his anchor. He doesn’t understand human friendship, any more than he understands sleep, and he would just as easily kill Solat as breathe.
I get to my feet, because I realize that I can’t have friends—at least not male ones—because Aron’s jealous. It’s a human emotion and he doesn’t know how to handle that shit.
He’s not human. I can’t assume he’s going to act like one.
“Time out,” I say cheerfully, and head to Aron’s side. I can practically see the flop-sweat on Solat’s brow as he tries not to shake. He knows he’s fucked up somehow, just by being too friendly. In a way, I can’t even blame him. Judging from his stories, Solat has always made his way by being charming and ingratiating until he got chased off.
He doesn’t realize that Aron won’t chase him off—he’ll just cut his head off without a thought.
“What is time out?” Aron asks, frowning at me. He plants his feet when I grab his arm, ignoring the electric shock between us.
I tug again, unwilling to be ignored, and he relents, letting me drag him away. I need to get him out of the room so he doesn’t kill Solat for breathing the wrong way—and then killing the others for being upset that he killed Solat. I can see it turning into an awful domino effect. It’s weird, too, because I feel protective of our small group. Even though I haven’t known them for long, I feel so much older and wiser than they are, strangely enough. Being around Aron gives me a different perspective, and while they’re just looking at this as an adventure serving a god, my everything hangs in the balance.
This could be my life and my afterlife, because what happens to me if I die while I’m here and tied to Aron?
The moment I shut the door behind us and we’re alone, I forget all about afterlives and my world, because it’s clear that Aron’s furious. He pulls away from me with a jerk and his hands are clenched as he paces the bedroom.
“What’s crawled up your ass?” I demand. My temper’s flaring, too. “Why are you being such a dick?”
“He was flirting with you,” Aron says, gesturing indignantly. “Laughing with you! And you were laughing back!”
“I was having a good time! Why is that a crime?”
He stalks toward me, his eyes so intense I can practically see the lightning crackling off of him. “You think I don’t know what you’re doing?” His voice is low and smooth, even if the words are deadly.
I arch a brow, determined to look cool and collected. What is he talking about? “What is it that you think I’m doing? I’m curious.”
His eyes glare lightning into mine. “You are trying to mak
e me jealous.”
My jaw drops. “Are you serious? With Solat?” I laugh at that. “Yeah, no. He’s not my type.”
Aron goes very still. “Which one is your type, then?”
I swallow hard, because that feels like a loaded question. Not for me, but for whoever I answer. If I tell him I find Markos sweet and gallant and that he’s got great hair, is Aron going to go out there and kill him? Or that Kerren’s blushes are adorable?
Is he going to murder his way through half the country if I enjoy myself around other people? I don’t know how to deal with a jealous god, and I swallow hard as I’m reminded that Aron isn’t the god of puppies and warm hugs. He’s a god of battle. It’s in his nature to pick a fight.
And because he’s a god, he’s going to win, every time.
“I’m not going to answer that,” I say slowly, determined to defuse the situation. “But no, I am not trying to make you jealous. You’ve already said we can’t be anything, even if I wanted to be.”
He moves closer.
I instinctively lean back against the door, as if it’ll save me from his advancement. Aron’s inches away, and he’s so intense I can feel energy crackling between us.
He stops a breath away from me, looming. There’s an intense look on his face and I should be terrified, but I’m not. I’m utterly turned on. “You are not trying to make me wild with hunger for you, then?” he murmurs, a deadly calm in his voice, as if he’s close to his control snapping. “You’re not trying to make me give in and touch you?”
I lick my suddenly dry lips. “I mean, I wouldn’t say no if you absolutely insisted—”
Aron looks down at my dress, which is in the Novoran style. It’s low cut with only an artful corset to keep the drapery in place. With a breath, he could have his hand in the front of my gown.
And we’re both extremely aware of it.
“You mortals,” Aron murmurs, leaning in so close that I can feel his breath fan against my face. “You are so bad at saying what you want. I think you do want me to touch you. You just won’t admit it.”