by T. A. White
Any semblance of control vanished as his mouth drove her higher and higher. A coil tightened deep inside, each touch sending tension coursing through her.
She was an inarticulate mess when he finally crawled up her body, lining his hardness against her center. His head bowed as he slid forward, his cock sliding deep.
She caught her breath as he stretched her, leaving her feeling almost too full. Caden's eyes met hers before kisses rained down on her jaw and along her neck.
She wasn't the only one to lose herself as he plunged forward, his rhythm tightening and coiling the tension inside further.
The sensations intensified and soon she was moaning as his thrusts filled her.
Her body tensed, her hands clutched at him as she approached her orgasm.
The tension tightened deliciously, spilling her over the edge, her body clenching around him. He lost the last of his reserve, his movements becoming wild.
She hung on as he wrung the last of her pleasure from her before climaxing himself.
His head dropped, his forehead coming to rest against hers. This close his gaze was inescapable.
Somehow the move was more intimate than everything they'd just done.
"If I'd known your stubbornness hid this, we'd have gotten to this point a long time ago," Caden said.
"I prefer the term persistent," Eva argued. "Stubbornness has too many negative connotations."
People used that word like it was something bad, but Eva never would have escaped her lot in life if not for a persistent belief she could do better.
Caden drew one hand down the length of her side, still propped up above her. He moved, rolling and pulling her into his side. She let him, enjoying the gentle touch—one that reminded of her of how she sometimes petted Caia when the horse needed affection.
"When I was young, I used to dream of what my life would be like when I became the best among warriors," Caden said, looking up at the ceiling.
Eva dropped a kiss onto his chest.
"Never did I believe I would have to fight people who'd turned into plants," he whispered.
There was a note in his voice Eva understood. She dropped another kiss onto his shoulder before propping herself up on her elbow so she could see his face better.
The mask that had briefly disappeared during their interlude was back again as his thoughts turned down dark paths.
"We don't have many rules, but not hurting children is one of our most basic." There was a catch in his voice that she knew he didn't mean her to hear.
The thought of what he'd done was torturing him.
She touched his jaw, turning his face toward hers. "And you still haven't. After what was done to them, they weren't children anymore. You were defending me and the others. There's no shame in that. I, for one, am happy I'm not dead. Thank you for that."
She hoped he could accept that and let this go. It would haunt him otherwise. He had too much goodness in him for that.
Those things hadn't moved like babies. They had been too fast, too bloodthirsty. She didn't know what had been done to turn them into that, or even how it was possible, but she did know she had not sensed any impression of the humans they'd once been, off of them.
In a bid to distract him, she propped herself on her elbow. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about these random gifts that keep appearing in my bags. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about them, would you?”
The question did the trick, some of his grief fading as he quirked an eyebrow at her. “Do tell.”
Her smile was wistful with a hint of playfulness as she rubbed her fingers along his chin, the bristly hairs there tickling her. “First, it was an apple. Then mostly little things until one day I found a jacket, waterproof to keep the rain off me.”
“Oh?”
She ducked her head and nuzzled his chest, hiding her smile. “I’ve never seen you using a jacket, only the lighter ones you Trateri have. You wouldn’t happen to be missing yours?”
He shrugged, affecting nonchalance. “I must have forgotten it at camp.”
She didn’t believe that for a moment. Not Caden, a man who was annoyingly thorough and precise when it came to everything.
“And the dagger that I’ve been told by several people looks exactly like one you own?” She nodded to where she’d set the dagger beside the bed with an expectant look.
“I imagine most daggers look similar.”
“Hmm.”
Caden’s expression was inscrutable as he stared back, the look in his eyes almost daring her to ask.
She was happy to rise to the challenge. “Why the gifts?”
It was a question that had plagued her since she’d realized he was the most likely culprit. They’d started long before she knew he had any feelings for her.
“You’re so certain it was me?” he asked with a superior smirk.
“I wasn’t, but I am now.”
He narrowed his eyes at that, and she hid a grin against his chest before settling against him and making it clear she was waiting. It was so fun teasing him.
She propped her chin on his chest and peered up at him. If he thought she would give up this line of questioning, he was wrong. She had a bottomless well of patience when it was important. This felt important.
His arms closed around her and he pulled her closer. “Do you remember the first night we met?”
Eva cocked her head. “The night Fallon was attacked. Shea was thinking about leaving by herself but stopped.”
“Because of you.”
Eva reared back and shook her head. “Not because of me.”
“We were following her. Shea has a habit of thinking she can go it alone. She did exactly what we thought she’d do when faced with immense mental strain. She shut everyone else out and tried to solve the problem by herself.”
“But she stopped,” Eva said.
“Yes, you sat up and asked her what was wrong. It jarred her out of her own mind, enough so it got her thinking again. Had anyone else done the same, I doubt it would have worked.” Caden’s expression turned distant. “Fallon was near death and the last thing I wanted was to have my focus split between the two. There you were, alone except for Caia, a hapless throwaway in the wrong place at the wrong time. You asked if the Warlord was injured, and I snapped at you.”
“You told me it was none of my business and insinuated if I spread the news, I wouldn’t live long,” Eva finished for him.
He nodded. “You were afraid of me, but it didn’t last long. Within moments, you tried to stare me down.”
“I was still afraid.” That night was imprinted on Eva’s mind. She’d been terrified of the Anateri commander. Until then, she’d had a slight crush on him. He was quiet but had a deep reserve of strength that attracted her.
“But you didn’t show it. Not many challenge me the way you did. It left an impression,” Caden said. “I had to know who you were so I set about learning everything I could, with the certainty that once I knew, you would become less interesting. The next time we met you’d thrown yourself between an angry stallion and your apprentice, and I thought. How brave. How utterly stupid.”
Eva frowned at him. These didn’t sound like the thoughts of someone so taken with her he’d left gifts where she could find them.
“Every time we met, you did something so at odds with the image you presented. You looked like a meek rabbit but you had the bark of a wolf. You were tireless when in defense of your herd. I couldn’t help but want to protect you from your own destructively noble impulses,” he said, peering at her with an intense expression.
He drew the back of his finger down her cheek, his smile turning slightly wicked. “You have no killer instinct. It was clear if I didn’t help you survive, your fire would be put out before I was done warming myself by its heat.”
Before she could respond to the prick to her pride, his hand cupped the back of her neck, tangling in the hair there. He drew her down for a kiss that quickly became more. After that
they didn't speak for a long time.
*
Eva woke to clamor.
She sat up, her hands meeting empty blanket.
Caden stood next to the window, naked as he gazed into the courtyard.
"Get dressed," he said as soon as he sensed she was awake. "Something is wrong."
Eva wasted no time on questions, reaching for her clothes on the floor. He did the same, his expression tense and his body alert.
The shouting was getting louder.
Banging came at the door. "Eva, we're under attack. Get dressed, I want you below with the warriors."
Caden opened the door as Fiona went to bang again, nearly hitting him in the face.
Her eyes flashed with surprise even as she gave Caden a report. "Those bugs Reece warned us about are swarming. We're killing them as fast as we can, but we need everyone in a defensible position. Darius thinks this is a first wave to discombobulate and soften us up for the next batch."
"We'll be down immediately," he said. "Warn the rest."
She jerked a quick nod before hurrying to the next door which opened almost before she had time to knock. Ghost and Roscoe hopped from foot to foot as they donned their clothes.
"We heard. We're on it," they said as they scrambled for the stairs. Roscoe frantically buckled his sword at his waist, nodding once to Caden. "Commander, see you on the battlefield."
Caden made a wordless sound of assent, half battle cry, half-guttural shout.
Neither man commented on Caden's presence in Eva's room, not even one ribald remark coming from them. No one teased or acted surprised by Caden's presence. They treated it as a matter of course and not even worth the effort of acknowledging beyond a slight head tilt.
Eva was dressed, her few belongings thrown back into her bag seconds after the men departed.
Caden reached back and grabbed her hand with his non-dominant one, pulling her toward the stairs.
"Fire!" someone shouted below.
Bright flames flickered outside the windows. Eva would have paused to see what exactly was happening if Caden hadn't had hold of her.
"Stay close," he barked.
She hurried along beside him.
"Do you still have the blade I gave you?" he asked.
"Of course." What did he think she'd do with it? Toss it off the nearest cliff? Lose it somewhere?
She knew how the Trateri felt about their weapons. They were like second children to them, each as cherished and unique as the warrior who wielded them. They were treated like they were the only thing standing between a warrior and death, because sometimes they were.
"Use it. Don't hesitate. Your only job is to come out of this alive," he said.
Eva tugged on his hand, stopping him. His gaze swung to her, but he was distracted, his focus already on the upcoming battle.
"Same for you." His head tilted and she expanded. "You come out of this alive too."
His lips curved in a lop-sided half-smile as he touched her cheek. "See, stubborn."
"Persistent," she corrected.
His half-smile became a full smile before his expression sobered as warriors pounded down the stairs around them.
Laurell stood at the bottom, snapping instructions to those coming down.
Caden didn't pause as he strode up to her. "Eva doesn't leave your side."
Laurell nodded as Caden dropped a quick kiss on Eva's lips before striding off.
"I see the situation has advanced," Laurell drawled.
"Shouldn't you be focused on ordering your warriors about?" Eva responded.
"I'm a woman. Multitasking is in my blood." Before Eva could think up a pithy response to that, Laurell's head snapped around and she shouted at a pair of warriors. "Cover all of the windows, not just half. Leave no gaps or you'll be the first I throw to these cursed things. See how well you meet your ancestors with vines for hair and flowers for eyes."
Eva glanced around as those present rushed to fortify the space while those outside defended the house.
Her eyes caught on two creating torches and arrows wrapped in bandages and dipped in oil. One of the men lit the arrow before firing it outside.
"That doesn't seem safe," she observed.
Especially when in the next moment they almost set fire to a curtain.
"The pathfinder said they're afraid of fire."
"But maybe setting ourselves on fire isn't the best answer," Eva said uncertainly.
One of the men nearly did exactly that as he jerked back at something Eva couldn't see, his torch straying perilously close to the torch assembly line.
"For Rava's sake, you'd think this was their first battle," Laurell muttered, stalking toward the two.
The two's motions were jerky and uncoordinated as they struggled with the bow and arrow. Something even Eva knew was unusual for a warrior.
She shadowed Laurell, her friend's wounds making her gait a little stiffer than normal.
"What do you numbskulls think you're doing?" Laurell barked, her tone impressive. She carried as much authority as Caden in that minute.
They swung around, their skin beginning to darken to the color of wood. Little veins of green climbed their necks toward their eyes.
Laurell jerked back with a hiss.
"Help," one of them moaned.
The skin on their chest and hands was distended, lumps forming under it.
Laurell didn't hesitate, her blade clearing its scabbard as she sank it into the first's chest. He collapsed, gurgling. The lumps burst, yellow pollen spewing forth and dancing on the air.
Fiona was there in the next second setting the air alight as the pollen met the fire and ignited.
A rag was shoved into Eva's hand as Fiona shouted. "Cover your mouth. Don't breathe it in."
The two women worked fast, killing both and setting their bodies and the air around them aflame.
They backed up, Ghost and Roscoe flanking them.
"This is a whole new level of fuck-uppery that I'm not ready for," Ghost muttered.
For once, Roscoe didn't argue, instead nodding mutely.
"Lucky I was on hand, Laurell," Fiona said, propping a hand on her hip, the torch brandished as if it was a sword. "Otherwise you might have needed some pruning."
Laurell glared daggers at her friend. "Laugh it up, lazy britches. Maybe I'll tell the group about the time you got stuck in a fire beetle hive."
That had Fiona's expression sobering. "You wouldn't dare."
Laurell straightened. "Wanna bet?"
Fiona's lip curled. "Get to the back, invalid."
Laurell's eyes darkened at the reference to her wound. "Live it up while you can. This'll heal soon enough."
Eva waved her hands, distracting the two before the fight could carry any further. "Shouldn't we do something about those?"
Eva pointed at the two fist size bugs made of woody vines binding together metal legs and a metallic stinger.
"We've found it less dangerous to let them work it out of their system," Ghost whispered to Eva.
"That way we don't get roped into the ridiculousness," Roscoe added.
"I thought it was only Fiona and Hanna who fought," Eva responded as Laurell and Fiona poked at the bugs she'd pointed out.
"You'd think, but the three take turns being at each other's throats," Roscoe said with a shrug. "Men use their fists to work out their differences. Those three prefer words." His head tilted thoughtfully, and Eva was reminded of the way Fiona and Hanna had thrown down the first day. "Most of the time."
"It's dead," Fiona announced.
"The poor bastards managed to kill the thing that killed them. Good for them," Ghost said in sympathy.
"More like once it finished its task it died shortly afterward," Fiona corrected.
Ghost pulled a dissatisfied expression.
Eva couldn't help but regret the loss of the two warriors and wondered if there was something more she could have done.
"The poultice wouldn't have worked," Fiona sai
d, reading her expression. "They were too advanced. Hanna made the right decision. This infection or whatever you want to call it is moving much faster than Reece thought. Those spores would likely have infected us in much the same way the bug did."
Ghost grimaced. "What a way to go."
"Why didn't they go after us?" Roscoe asked suddenly. "We were both closer. Why them?"
"They went after the biggest threat first," Eva said softly.
Fiona gave her a sharp glance. "That's not the action of an insect."
Eva shook her head. "No, it isn't."
An insect wouldn't pick and choose. If anything, it would have been more hesitant to approach the two men and their flame, if only because it was afraid of fire.
That meant they had demonstrated conscious reasoning skills. That spoke of intelligence. Or someone guiding it from afar.
Laurell and the two men gave the bugs uncertain looks.
Eva didn't have to be good at reading people to know they were spooked. She was, too. There was a special sort of terror knowing you might become a puppet to someone else's whims. Alive, but not really.
It eclipsed the normal terror of beasts, perhaps because beasts might kill you but that would be the end. Not so with this.
Who knew how much the person those things used to be remembered of their lives? To be locked in your body, slave to another? Eva could think of no worse fate.
There was a sharp cry from a warrior near them and he stumbled back from securing the window as he clutched his hand. There was a slight scuttle of feet as one of the bugs finished crawling through, blood on its stinger.
As they watched, it seized and then fell dead to the floor.
"Rava protect us," Roscoe whispered.
"Watch out." Fiona yanked Eva out of the way before stomping down hard on one of the fist-sized bugs in the shape of a misshapen rose that had strayed dangerously close.
"Thanks," Eva muttered already hurrying past to the man.
She ripped off her belt on the way.
"Eva, get away from him," Fiona urged.
"There's still hope," Eva countered. She'd already watched two men die tonight. Perhaps they hadn't been her greatest friends, but she'd known them. She didn't want to see anyone else die if she could help it.