Pulling away, she swam back. It took her only moments to get dressed.
He didn't look at her as she emerged from the water or when she put her dress back on. As she tied the sash, she turned away. Though some part of her throbbed with sympathy, another larger part drew her attention to a central fact: he'd let her go.
As a Vawtrian, he would never renounce his claim on her. She was his. Until death and beyond if he had his way.
But this—he'd teased her, pressed her boundaries, challenged her. He saw more than she wanted him to see, but maybe that was needed.
53
Only a Dragon
Amelia forced herself to walk as calmly as she could back to the camp. It wasn't nearly far enough to cool down, and whatever Naatos had started raging inside of her showed no intentions of cooling. She'd even welcome the bead of cold, but it was utterly gone. Nothing offered any relief.
All she could hope was that no one would notice. They had moved on to preparing dinner. Some sort of meat roasted over the fire. AaQar was repairing the harness for Proteus, WroOth sharpening knives, and QueQoa adding wood to the firepit.
Maybe this would work. No one was looking at her yet. Taking care to remain silent, she placed her training clothes in her pack.
Sparks flew as QueQoa stirred the coals beneath the wood. "Why are you blushing, Amelia?"
Now everyone was looking. And they all knew. They knew! Not that it was a great secret. But it would have been nice if they had pretended not to notice.
"It's a sunburn, QueQoa." She picked up her canteen and drained it. As she fastened the lid, she felt him staring at her. WroOth and AaQar at least kept themselves occupied with their tasks.
"I don't think so."
"Are you calling me a liar, QueQoa?" She forced herself to meet his gaze.
He canted his head, his brow furrowing. "…yes. A bad one."
WroOth burst into laughter. Even AaQar released a breath that suggested he was choking back his amusement.
She straightened her shoulders. "All right then. I don't actually know what to say to that. So subject change." Everything was still so hot. Seizing a comb, she set to untangling her hair and braiding.
"Where's Naatos?" QueQoa asked.
Crespa, QueQoa! She narrowly controlled her response, but her edges weren't just frayed, they were falling apart. "He decided he needs more time in the suphrite." Picking at the tangles gave her something to focus on, but she didn't even feel the tug at her scalp.
WroOth slid in beside her. "How is your arm?"
"It's fine. Everything is fine." She tried to smile, but she couldn't make eye contact with anyone at the moment.
"Do you want to talk about what happened or perhaps something else?"
"Anything but this afternoon."
"I'm going to assume you don't really mean 'anything' and find something that would be suitable. I found a cliff you can jump off tomorrow."
"Bless you." She leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees as she cupped her face.
"Are you really looking forward to jumping off a cliff?" QueQoa dusted his hands as he moved back from the fire. "I did not enjoy the experience. At any point really. Not until I could fly."
"It really isn't necessary to throw her off a cliff," AaQar said. "What you three have been doing is more than enough preparation for a fall and for her catching on and holding on and everything else that is needed until you move into practicing actual flight-and-fall tactics."
"Yes, but there's nothing like an extended fall to determine if you really are ready," WroOth said.
AaQar hung the harness on one of the curved grey-brown branches and gave WroOth an expression that suggested he wasn't convinced. "I think you just like throwing people."
"Both can be true," WroOth said.
She laughed into her hands.
It surprised her that they didn't tease her more. But at the moment, she couldn't have taken it. Her thoughts remained with Naatos down at the suphrite stream. It took everything in her not to go back to the edge of those milky turquoise waters and check on him. But if she did—
He was fine.
He was. But things weren't going to stay fine if they weren't more careful. When she was near him, she couldn't think clearly. Not anymore. He was flawed. Imperfect. Pushy. Arrogant. But…
Mercifully, the rest of her family allowed her that space to think. She helped prepare food, stripped reeds, brushed Proteus, and attempted to practice her various Neyeb skills. The words on the page blurred. The ones in her mind did the same.
At last, she gave up and crawled into her hammock before the sun set. The fact that WroOth didn't try to turn her out of it once or even drop something on her suggested she wasn't doing as well as she'd hoped at hiding how on edge she was. Another thing to appreciate, she mused.
Tacky snuggled beside her. It hadn't been fond of the hammock initially, but it did seem to prefer being with her as opposed to anyone else.
She stroked the dark indigo bands on his abdomen. Even in this low light, they stood out. All the dolmaths actually had them though most weren't quite as intense. Initially they had struck her as such a large mass that they were indistinguishable, one from another. Over time, they had grown more individual. The dolmaths here were a little smaller and closer to the ground with more speckling and spots rather than stripes.
This area was rockier and hillier. AaQar had said they were aiming for the mountains. Sometimes during practice when one of them threw her in the air, she sailed up high enough to catch a glimpse of them. They reminded her of the Appalachians, soft-topped and covered with trees.
All of the energy, passion, and desire coursed through her still. It spiraled and circled and burned without ceasing. But at least thinking about why dolmaths here had speckles rather than stripes and why the mantises were drabber in coloration and why the winged serpents were all turquoise, red, and yellow rather than the sheer rainbow of colors at their starting point near Tri Ce kept her from thinking about the other thing.
If only sleep would come.
She might wake up nauseated and with a foul taste in her mouth, wondering what she had forgotten, but it was an escape. And far better than letting her thoughts drift more to what she wanted to do with him and let him do to her. And her elmis? They itched. She wanted to drive them against his face, ask him to put his hands on her lower back.
Nothing in the books explained why. Kepsalon had said the one on her back was about intimacy. Now she understood that both the wrists and her back were involved in that. How exactly? No idea. Nothing except a deep urge that was almost as strong as her desire to kiss him but not so powerful as the twitching in her hips or the pulsing in her core.
Focus during training had been her salvation through childhood to adulthood. Yet now, there was no amount of walking, jumping, sparring, or spinning that could quiet her thoughts or dull the depth of her own desire.
When Naatos returned to the camp an hour or so later, she felt him. That presence of his was so potent, a great seething mass that stretched out like a thunderhead.
Somehow she knew he was aware of her.
They were both much too aware of one another lately. And he needed—she needed him to go away. Just go.
Surely he needed to hunt or something to take the edge off.
"Where's Amelia?" he asked.
His voice made her stomach tense.
"She went to bed," AaQar said from the fire.
She couldn't see them over the edge of the hammock. But she could imagine them. AaQar was probably doing something with the reeds they'd cleaned. From the swift but light snapping sounds, WroOth was breaking up little sticks and twigs. QueQoa was almost assuredly stirring the fire or nodding in quiet contemplation that might or might not disagree with what was being said.
"Already?" Naatos sounded mildly surprised. "She can't be sleeping." He'd probably set his arms akimbo and was looking at her.
Her skin prickled. Not that he could actually see
her. Really, all he'd be able to see was the outline of her backside. The conflicted mash of questions regarding his thoughts on that flashed through her mind before she crushed them. It didn't matter. It did not matter.
Really, it didn't.
"Let her rest. You should as well." AaQar did not sound confident his brother would take that advice.
"Don't look at me like that, WroOth." Naatos was… was he amused?
"Garom. Try being a sikalt this time. You already caused the problem. Leave the mess."
Naatos scoffed.
"It's for the best, Naatos. Just let her be." AaQar's voice had grown sterner.
Naatos chuckled. But he seemed to be remaining at the fire. Conversation shifted to the following days and their plans for navigating to the mountains and how they would handle scorpions at the passes and the likelihood of territorial cabiza mothers.
She released a silent sigh. Part of her was disappointed to not see him. That part of her that had come up with the incredible and horrible idea that he could come closer to her without touching her. Not that she could have expected him to do what he had.
The heat inside her flared even stronger again, her muscles tightening as she remembered his nearness. How much she'd wanted to kiss him. Touch him. Taste him. Feel his weight against her.
Stifling the groan that rose within her, she willed herself to sleep. They needed to stay away from one another. The days were counting down; there still wasn't a solution other than trust for everything involving the Tue-Rah and conquest. But here, now…she wasn't even sure how much she still cared about that.
Was that a bad thing? Had she failed? Or was she waltzing toward heartbreak?
Waltzing toward it?
She bit her lip. If things went wrong, she was trapped in this already.
Suddenly, she became aware of Naatos drawing closer. His presence remained so loud she couldn't fully sift through the emotions or separate them from her own. But he was getting closer.
No. Yes. No.
"Amelia."
She kept her face angled away and her expression as neutral as possible.
"I know you aren't sleeping."
Damn him! She wasn't giving up though. She remained motionless.
"Amelia."
Stay still.
"You realize there's a very easy way for me to prove you're awake. Lots of ways actually." He paused. "All without touching."
Her eyes sprang open. "What's wrong with you?" she hissed. "You just get cooled off, and now you want to come back and mess things up for both of us?"
His eyebrow raised. "Are you having trouble relaxing, veskaro?" He pulled the blanket back.
Glaring, she seized it up again and pulled it up to her chin. "Go away." Tacky protested as well, squawling as Naatos brushed it back. "Are you an idiot?"
"For you, perhaps." That crooked smile returned.
"Naatos, even if you are one, you know you have to go."
"You invited me to join you in your hammock."
"That wasn't an open invitation."
"What would it take to make it an open invitation?"
She sat up. "Being past the eight weeks."
"You don't bargain well."
"Hmmm." She grunted at him. It was hard not to smile. She was melting again, but did it matter? "I'm afraid I have nothing to barter with at the moment."
He dropped his hand to her cheek. His fingers curled from the blade of her cheek to the shell of her ear. "You are worth it all, veskaro."
He was being sweet now? Her heart clenched. She dropped her gaze to the coarse weave of the brown blanket.
"I only came to say good night. You'll let me kiss you."
Was that a question or a statement? A swift glance revealed that everyone else had gone to sleep. The speckled and spotted dolmaths lay around the camp, clustered most around AaQar, WroOth, and QueQoa where they slept. Apparently Naatos was abusing his privilege at first watch to see her without their chastisement. She found herself smiling as she nodded. "One."
He nuzzled her, his nose dragging across her cheek, his forehead pressed to hers. "Just one."
Rising up on her knees, she leaned against him and slid her hands from his chest to his neck. His breath teased the side of her neck. One powerful hand slid along her side while the other cupped the back of her head, keeping her close. He angled closer, his lips parting. His tongue swept deep into her mouth, curling, stroking, seeking.
As she responded in kind, she savored the closeness. The distinctness between them. Even as all that energy swirled and tangled, she could distinguish the threads at every point that mattered. Distinct and beautiful.
Tangling her fingers in his hair, she pushed back against him. Her lips moved with his. A slight pain dragged across her temples. A blade. It faded as soon as she pulled back. A warning most likely. But even so, that empty sensation spread as soon as he released her. She wanted to return.
"I don't think that was just one kiss," she whispered.
His gaze moved along her body before reaching her face, his expression contemplative and longing. "It seems I've lost the ability to count when I'm with you."
She resisted the urge to trail her fingers over his shoulders and to his neck. "I'm going to sleep now."
"You should." He stepped back. "You need to build up your strength. And I need to consider what I want to do to you tomorrow."
Her stomach fluttered.
"Before I forget though," he said with an impish smile. "Did you like what happened in the river?"
Tilting her head, she gave him the best glare she could manage. "You're the one who stopped what we were doing. So… by those terms, I don't think I have to answer." She sank back into the hammock.
His eyebrows raised. "Are you saying you would have continued?"
"I guess we'll never know."
He laughed, the sound rich and deep. Leaning close again, he met her gaze. "Oh, we both know the truth on that point. Don't we, veskaro?"
She pushed him away. "You're supposed to be keeping watch. So go. Think what you like."
"Oh, I do." He gave her one more heart-stopping smile.
She dropped back in the hammock and pulled the blanket over her face. Tacky's resulting chirr alerted her to his disapproval. She disapproved too. Why did her whole body have to be involved in this? Wasn't it possible to keep it all in the head? Apparently not.
Releasing another tight breath, she stared up at the turquoise leaves. The wind rustled and whispered among the leaves. So many other things to think about.
Blessed sleep finally claimed her though for every remaining moment of consciousness she remained painfully aware of him.
The heat remained with her even in sleep. Always before she had been able to calm and cool, not slipping into the cold but into a comparatively pleasant neutrality. None of that was present tonight.
She rolled over, startled to realize that she was in a bed. Had she made this? Maybe. It felt like an eternity since she had slept in a real bed with silky soft black sheets and a fuzzy blanket. Oh and a pillow.
Had she finally figured out how to make her own dreams good? It was about time.
The only thing she wasn't sure she understood was why she'd made it so big. Was someone with her?
A flash of dread spread through her, expanding. She was supposed to be careful. Doors—doors were open somewhere. And there was something she had to remember. Her breath hitched in her throat.
What was it? What?
The blankets kept her warm.
Ki Valo Nakar.
Yes.
The dread increased.
If she had a bed, then something could be under it.
Of course her mind would finally let her make a bed just so there could be a monster hiding beneath. Sometimes she hated herself.
Closing her eyes, she listened. What lay in the darkness?
Could she rest without knowing?
Probably not.
Bracing herself, she scooted to the
edge and peered down.
She half expected a pair of moon eyes to peer back at her. But there was no space beneath the bed. She'd made it solid all the way to the floor. Good job, subconscious.
A quick glance revealed that this actually was a room, not just a great open space. A room whose sole item of furniture was a bed with its head at the wall. No door either. Thank goodness. Nothing was getting in.
She flopped back.
Her hand struck something warm. Muscular arms wrapped around her and pulled her back against a long hard body. "Come back to sleep and stop looking for things to worry about."
She stiffened, her nerves electric. "Naatos?" She choked as his hands moved to exploring her arms and her side, grazing beneath her breasts.
"It's only a dream, veskaro," he whispered against her neck. "Must you be guarded even now?"
"What are you doing here?" A moan escaped her lips as his comforting warmth seeped into her. Already her heart was racing as it was in the suphrite, and she couldn't think straight. It was a dream—a dream. Had she made him too?
"Do you want to escape me?" His mouth pressed against her ear, all heat as his voice rumbled low in his chest. "Not anymore." His tongue grazed her earlobe. "Do you even want to run, veskaro?" He dragged out the last word in the same way he dragged his lips from her ear to her neck. As he did, he swept his leg up over her hip and tucked his foot between hers.
She gasped. This was worse than the river! "How did—"
He nudged his nose along her neck. His teeth scraped against her sensitive skin as his hands and legs kneaded her. "Just enjoy this."
She dug her fingers into the sheets. "Naatos, we're supposed to—"
Growling, he flipped her onto her back and reared up over her. "It's a dream."
His hips and legs pinned her in place as he let his gaze slide over her. She could almost feel it traveling over her body. Her skin tingled in response as she tipped her head back, searching for a way to orient herself.
His hand slid up the column of her throat. "Look at you," he breathed. "Stunning." As his fingers hooked along the neckline of her gown, he tugged. "You'll let me see you now?"
She grabbed his hands even though the silk had again become coarse and painful against her skin. "Naatos—"
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