Page 13

Not unless I am beside her.

War madness is a peculiar, haunting affliction.

I timed this perfectly, timedherperfectly, paid more than was reasonable to have her during the winter festival. We would celebrate with my people, and I wouldn’t care if she saw their suspicious stares and watched the way they kept their distance. We would be blessed by Thrymus and his mate Sylvara. For once, when the fire died at the nextlight and people had chosen their partners for the winter, I wouldn’t go home alone.

I wanted this.

Needed a child.

Needed to know there would be something more of myself long after I was cast into the dark. Even if my mind was no longer intact enough to feel the pride that might bring.

How, after only a day, do I feel such dread sharing the sight of her with the world? My hand unbidden flies to my horns, feeling the ridges of ivory cool and void of heat. The discomfort in my chest only deepens. Why had I expected them to be hot?

Such things don’t happen anymore.

It has been far before my time that the Gods have blessed anyone with a mate.

And what a cruel blessing that would be.

Lenora

I groan, shoving the heavy, thick blankets off my sweat slicked body. Cringing at the way my upper lip is wet when I wipe my hand across it. My eyes flutter open, the bright room only stinging them for a second before I stare at the high vaulted ceilings of the bedroom.

He carried me to bed.

My stomach does an odd little flip just as the bathroom door slides open, steam billowing like an active volcano. Fafnir’s eyes find mine and I wish I could say my attention stays there. It doesn’t. His deep tanned skin and long warm gray hair sends droplets of water pattering toward the floor. The towel wrapped around his waist hung dangerously low on his hips. The trail of fur shadowing the deep V of his chiseled stomach and waist has me shifting my thighs together under the thick blankets.

“Lenora.” He growls.

My eyes snap to his again. An odd red ring around his iris takes me aback. It only makes him more severe, more commanding. “Hmm?”

“Dress and eat. I must tend to my duties for the day. I wish for you to join me.”

That snaps me out of it as I roll to my belly, stretching like a lazy cat, kicking off the blankets. I’ve always been a slow riser. I wake up super early to accommodate lazy mornings in bed. His pounding hooves make me gasp when the back of my pants are jerked down, exposing my upper ass, a feral sound leaving the male.

“Hey!” I try to twist only for his hand to plant against my upper back, keeping me pinned on the mattress. The fact that I’m literally drenched in sweat comes second to the flare of liquid heat that pools beneath my thighs. I’d never thought myself one to enjoy being manhandled but…

His two cocks come to mind, and I can’t help but squirm under his grasp as his hand trails over my sore tailbone.

Just a little lower.

“What happened to your back, female?”

Oh.

The fucking bruise.

When I try to speak at first, an odd garble of words is all I can muster, my sleep rattled brain still hazy. My thoughts are purely between my legs. Perhaps two wouldn’t be so bad. It’d take a lot of working—

“StubbornValkyra. Speak before I lose my temper.”

I’d be okay with that.

I peek over my shoulder, meeting his eyes. My lips part against the mattress, finding the red bleeding and overcoming the earthen brown like injecting ink into water. It's so beautiful, I get lost there for a moment, watching the battle between colors. He must realize, his long hair dripping onto my overheated skin as he jerks his head away. “Lenora, please. You’re hurt.”

I clear my throat, my heart pounding so hard I know he can feel it through my back. “Yesterday when I went outside to find you, I wasn’t trying to ride your lion lizard—"

“Sihlih.” He corrects between gritted teeth.