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Chapter ten

Sifa

And Then I Notice Him

“N o! Let him go!”

“Sifa, wake up!” My eyes fly open. Fhord’s hands are on my cheeks, his eyes wide as a vein pulses in his neck. He’s terrified, for me.

I stare at him, confused. I was in the caves, watching as they dragged Toffer from his cell. His turn to be slashed and skinned in their endless search for answers he couldn’t give. In the distance, the wails I’d come to expect from some beast being tortured continued. They’d started just after daybreak and seemed like they’d never stop, although our cells were growing dark.

But I’m not trapped below the Nest. I’m in a tent with Fhord. Shaking my head, I sit up. Fhord draws his hands away, but he doesn’t move. He still watches me, but now he’s concerned. Almost like he cares. Butterflies launch in my stomach as we sit there together, gazing at each other. Almost on its own, my tongue emerges to moisten my lips.

Fhord takes a sharp inhale, dropping onto his ass as his head spins away from me.

“I’m … sorry I … touched you. I shouldn’t have. I was just worried. You were screaming.” His hands are splayed out on his pants. They’re still, as if he’s trying to stop himself from wiping away the feel of my skin.

And then I notice him. And my heart really starts to race.

He sleeps without a shirt, giving me the view I’ve needed of his chest. His arms. His stomach.

As I suspected, there’s not an inch of fat on him. His stomach muscles are clenched, creating ridges as they lead from his waist to his chest. The designs that cover him appear random at first—other than the golden dragon that emerges from his heart—but there’s a harmony to them. They seem to have been drawn by the same hand, each telling a different part of a single story through dragons and beasts and blades. It’s the scars that really catch my eye, though. They’re everywhere and the artist used them as the foundation for the most intricate tattoos. As if to celebrate and revere them.

I lift my gaze to search for him. And my heart finds its beat.

Fhord is watching me with an expression I never expected to see on his face, a mix of longing and deep pain.

When he realizes I can see him, truly see him, his lips twitch up for a split second and he casts his eyes down. “I didn’t have time to throw on a shirt,” he says as he lifts to his knees and reaches to the foot of his bed. His blanket drops to reveal the tight shorts he sleeps in and a generous bulge at his groin, impressive even without any excitement to fill it. I bite back the groan that rumbles in my chest as my mind conjures thoughts of his hard dick resting between my thighs.

For the briefest moment, I want to stop him from covering himself. My hand almost moves, and I have to take control of my mind—a mind that’s wholly occupied by his presence right now—to prevent it. A sigh escapes from me as his stomach flexes and a tunic drops over his shoulders to rest on his hips. He sits down again while I urge my galloping pulse to calm down. I’m afraid he can hear the effect he’s had on me.

I’m a reckless elf. And I really need to get away from this man.

“Do you want to talk about it?” His tone is gentle. He’s not the harsh, mean male I’ve come to know.

Yes. More than anything . But I can’t. Because telling him about my time in the caves would reveal too much. He’d learn I’m an elf, and he’s too close to the Kastali for me to ever risk that.

“It was just a nightmare.” The words come in a whisper.

“Are you okay?” His voice is still soft, quiet.

No, I’m not . But I can’t tell him that, either. “I’m fine.”

“I’m going to try to sleep some more. I’m right here if you need me.”

I dare to look at him again. His eyes still hold the worry I don’t want to see from him. We need to trust each other, but that’s as far as it can ever go. “Thank you.”

He lays down, but this time he’s facing me. He watches me a few moments, then closes his eyes and takes a deep inhale as I tuck myself back under my blanket. I can’t relax, though.

I thought after seeing the dragon, finding the source of the wails that have haunted me for a decade, I’d finally escape that fear. It won’t let me go. I wonder if it’s part of me now, doomed to forever visit me in nightmares.

Gods, I hate that Fhord saw that side of me. Saw my weakness. My fear. And I hate even more that I saw a part of him I want to know better—a person full of compassion, who doesn’t despise me. He’s annoying and such an asshole sometimes. I wish we could travel together in peace. Still, it’s better for both of us if he continues to push us apart.

I want him. I can’t deny that after tonight. But I can never have him.

I can never have any man while I’m trapped here.

In my worlds, I learned to control my magic. I could hide my ears, look like a human. When I was young, my feelings would interfere. My ears would change, their sharp points emerging, whenever I lost myself in my emotions. By the time I entered Midgard, I had full control over my body. I never changed unless I wanted to.

Here, I can’t fully harness that restraint. It’s how they knew I was an elf when I landed in Vanatia. My fear revealed me, and I couldn’t do shit about it. Since then, I’ve mastered the rest. My magic answers to me now in everything except this. This one thing refuses to be bound. Just like every reliable prick, my ears pop out, pointy and erect, when I get too aroused. When I lose myself to my body’s demands. I’ve masturbated enough to know. There’s no hiding who I am from a man who really excites me.

Which is why Fhord and I can never, ever be together.

I just wish he wasn’t so gods-damned beautiful. And sexy.

So fucking sexy.

I throw my pillow over my head as I stop fighting my magic and will myself to relax.

I desperately need my own tent.

He let me sleep in, I realize as my eyes pop open in the morning. The sun is peeking through the door, and I can smell something cooking outside. I’m hungry. Really hungry.

I dress quickly and step out of the tent. His back is turned and he doesn’t sense me so I can watch him for a few seconds. He really is perfect. His broad shoulders lead down to a tight ass, then splay out just a bit to stretch into long legs. Short sleeves display the tattoos on his arms, and I inspect them. As I’d realized last night, they celebrate his injuries, as if he adds a tattoo with each mark to hold them in his memory.

He finally senses me and spins his head. But he doesn’t smile. He’s rebuilt the walls that disappeared with my nightmare. Instead, he nods, his eyes flat, and turns again to look at the meal he’s cooking. Only then does he speak.

“We need a hot meal. Rabbit. It’ll be done soon.”

“Thank you. I’m starving.”

He lifts his head to look in the direction of the nearby stream. “You have time to clean yourself before we eat.”

“I’ll do that.” I duck back into the tent to grab my things and head over. It feels good to wash off some of the grime of the trip along with the sweat that covered me when I woke up screaming.

I dig into the rabbit when he sets a plate on the rock next to me. I haven’t felt this hungry in a long time.

“We need to be alert today,” Fhord tells me in between bites. “We’ll be passing through a dangerous place. The Kastali has little authority over the rebels here.”

“I didn’t realize there was such a place. Why would the Kastali have trouble controlling these lands?”

He watches me for a moment in silence. “The Kastali is punishing the Meistari and Meistara who control this region,” he explains. “The Nest has abandoned this territory for twelve moons. If the Kastali is satisfied with the penance offered, they may restore protection.”

“We do need to be careful,” I agree. Despite the sloth of many, dragon riders are key to keeping this land safe. I can’t imagine life without them. I guess I’ll soon find out.

We finish eating and pack quickly. With Fhord’s warning, I’m as anxious as him to get through today.

The morning is calm and bright, and I like the ride more than I should. Mainly because I’m following Fhord, and he is magnificent.

I hadn’t let myself look at him—really look—before last night. And maybe I shouldn’t now. I can’t be with him, but I can appreciate him. I can enjoy watching him. The dark, short but wavy hair, a hint of auburn catching the morning rays. The wide shoulders that turn into thick arms, covered with tales of his battles. The strong lines of his back, leading down to his firm ass.

Fuck me . Not literally. At least, that’s what I tell myself.

As the sun is reaching today’s zenith, Fhord turns. One side of his mouth lifts up when he sees me watching him. “We’ll stop here for lunch.”

Heat fills my cheeks. I need to keep my gaze away. I cannot let this annoying man know I’m attracted to him.

We’re eating another cold meal of jerky with fruit and nuts when we hear their voices. Fhord notices first, sitting up straight as he brings a finger to his lips. His head spins slowly while he searches for their source. When he turns to me, worry brightens his eyes.

Standing, we scoop our things into our bags as quickly and quietly as we can. Within a minute, we’re untying the horses and drawing them slowly to a nearby bramble, thick enough to hide all of us as they pass by.

We barely make it. Just as Hilde’s rear slips behind the bushes, they appear. More than two dozen of them. They’re not soldiers. These males are rough, crude, and loud. It’s no wonder Fhord heard them from as far away as he did. They’re laughing and bellowing at each other, rehashing some fight from the night before. I let myself relax a bit as they move past us.

But then one of the men looks up to see the clearing. “I’m hungry. Let’s eat here.”

“We’ve a long way to go today,” another responds. “Let’s go another viku before we stop.”

The first male spins in his saddle, his eyes angry. “I’m hungry,” he spits out. “We’ll eat here.”

“If you’re gonna be a dick about it, fine.” The second one yanks on his mount’s reins and gives him a harsh kick, sending him straight toward us.

Fhord’s arm wraps around my waist as one finger lifts to rest in front of my lips. Insufferable man. Of course I’m going to be quiet , I tell myself as I try to drag my thoughts away from the butterflies his touch launched in my stomach. I suppress the inhale my lungs crave as his hand drops to join the other on my stomach.

This is better and so, so much worse. We can’t fight so many males. They’ll kill us—after they rape me—if they see us. But all my reckless, traitorous body cares about is the heat that started just below his hands and is spilling into me. I have to stop myself from taking in the deep breath I desperately need right now. By the gods, I’m pathetic.

Fhord tugs gently, pulling me down with him to the ground below, both arms still tight around me. And then he looks at Sigurd as one of his hands releases me and flicks his wrist. The horse responds quickly, kneeling down behind us. Hilde does the same, her battle training apparently kicking in. We’re as hidden as we can be. Hopefully it’s enough.

I shouldn’t be surprised when Fhord’s hand returns to my stomach, tugging my back into his chest. But I am. He hates me. I know that. Still, he seems to be as drawn to me as I am to him.

We lay there motionless, Fhord filling my thoughts, his scent, full of coriander and cloves, wafting over me. I can feel the beat of Fhord’s heart, his breath on my neck, hot and steady. Without even thinking about it, my heart rate and breathing slow to match his. And as terrified as I am, I feel content for the first time in years.

Fhord, though, is not completely motionless. Part of him blossoms behind me, growing impossibly large as it fills up the space between us. And gods help me, my body responds. The fire that started when Fhord’s hands wrapped around me flares into an inferno, consuming every part of me. I can think about only one thing: the enormous dick digging into my ass.

And I can’t move. If I do, my hands will be unleashed, taking his and leading them down. At this moment, I don’t care who’s nearby, what might happen. I need him to touch me. To possess me.

It takes every ounce of my willpower to stay still. To not give in to my body’s reckless demands.

We lie there for a long, long time, and he stays hard. Unbelievably hard. Breathtakingly hard. The entire time. The heat that seems like it will never leave dries my mouth, making me empty and desperate for … something I can’t have. But his hands stay where they are too. He’s as motionless as me.

Finally, thankfully, the males start to pack up and leave. We lie there another five or ten minutes, giving them all the time they might need to get far away from us. When Fhord lifts one of his arms, I turn to look at him, a hundred questions running through my mind.

And then I’m dropped in a cold bath. Every bit of fire that had been strumming through my veins is extinguished at once. As if a vast bucket in the sky just dumped its load on us.

Because Fhord is angry, his eyes brittle sparks of agate, his mouth a thin, tight line. He glares at me until I sit up enough for him to move his other arm, which he promptly whips away from me.

“Leave,” he barks at me. Like it’s my fault he can’t control his body. As if he wasn’t the one who wrapped his arms around me and held me next to him the entire time.

My heart is in my throat, and I’m suddenly struggling to hold back my own anger. This man incites every wrong emotion in me.

So I let my gaze slowly move to his chest and then down to the parts I don’t want to think about. The bulge in his pants is so rigid, I wonder if it hurts to be constrained so tightly, for so long. “I can see why you’d be embarrassed,” I tell him with a smug look as I find his eyes again. “Not that I’m interested. But I’m flattered you feel that way.”

“My cock would rise for any woman who rests her ass next to it for such a long time,” he bites out. “No matter how unappealing she might be. But it won’t lead me to do something as foolish as bed you.”

Oh my gods, the arrogance of this man. “Well, at least we agree about that.”

Fhord still doesn’t move, as if he’s pinned to the ground. And I’m not in any hurry to make this easy for him. At last, he huffs out, “Are you going to go?”

“Oh, do you need some privacy?” My smile is saccharine. I’m gonna have so much fun playing with this man, now that I know how to get a rise out of him—figuratively and literally.

“Yes.” His eyes are bright, focused. “Now.”

“I guess we could go get some water,” I tell him as I stand and reach for the harnesses. “We’ll be out here when you’re done,” I turn to throw one last smile at him and draw the horses out to the clearing.