Page 14 of The Warlord’s Princess (Warlords of Tempest #3)

RAMSEY

There is no greater torment than the desire for something just out of reach. Or something you once had but have since lost.

What happened at the cave was a mistake, and it took every ounce of restraint I had not to bury myself in weak Asha.

That I could get so hard a moment after coming in the water during her release is an impressive feat that even Princess Kasmina was capable of having me do.

But I resisted, forcing myself from the water just before Nori came. If she had walked in on us, I know not what I would have done.

As I walk through the village, I try to clear my head.

Impossible.

Everywhere I go, I see her—I smell her.

I still taste her on my tongue, and it drives me to madness as she is the last of the Penticari I should be beholden to, as she is so weak.

Yet, a part of me does not care.

I am just as lost as Grixis.

More so.

“Ramsey?” calls a voice, and I turn to see Amber.

“What do you want?” I growl, wishing she would go away.

“To let you know I appreciate what you did out there for me.” She takes three steps closer, tilts her head to the side, and licks her lips. “For bringing me back alive.”

“It was at Elena’s behest, for if it were up to me, you would have been left to wander.”

She sighs, rolling her eyes. “I understand I haven’t always been the easiest to deal with. It’s because I was born to lead, and yet I’m forced to follow someone who is less than capable.”

“You think more highly of yourself than you should.”

“Of course you would say that.” I mislike the wry grin that forms on her lips.

“Is there something you need?”

“Just to say that I know out there, in the wild, we didn’t always get along well, and I might have said and done things I regret. But I’m strong, just as you are.”

Do I tell her she is a fool?

I settle on, “Why would you think I care?”

“I guess I’ll have to spell it out then.”

“I understand lesser tongue with no need to spell.”

“It’s a saying.”

Annoyed, I bark, “Just speak plainly.”

“We could be good together, Ramsey. Better than good. We can be strong.”

Could she really think that after her grumbles through the forest? Of her erratic, lofty demands?

“The thought of spending another moment with you is exhausting.”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “Forget the woods. I was under duress, and we shouldn’t let a little temper flare get in the way of what we could be together.”

“Miserable?”

“No, powerful.”

I turn and walk away, shaking my head, but she follows, like an annoying little flitterbug.

“I know Grixis is making you share your hut with Asha.”

“That does not concern you.”

“You’re right, but if you coupled with me, she’d have to move.”

“But her weaves?—”

“They don’t care about her weaves. They never have.

We have furs and leather, and yet she is making blanket after blanket, and clothes that are unnecessary.

All they care about is that it looks like you’ve resigned yourself to allowing the weakest of us into your hut.

And for what reason but to make me look compliant? ”

I stop to mull over her words.

“They can’t make her stay with you if you choose me, because it would be improper.”

I turn to look at her again, studying her face.

Her blonde hair is a shade darker than Asha’s, and her lips often hold an amusing smirk that once been charming to me.

But her smell never captivated me the way Asha’s had.

Bathing in the creeks, she was more brazen about showing her body than Asha was, and I was excited to see her naked, out in the wild.

But I was never compelled to touch her the way I was with weak Asha. With Amber, I had restraint even when I wanted her desperately.

With Asha, there is none.

What is wrong with me? Clearly, Amber is the better of the two. Yet I do not lust when I am around her, and I hardly think of her at all when she is not nearby.

“I’ll come with you now, to your hut, and help you move the weaves if you’d like. You can take me to your bed, claiming me as yours. I’ll let you lick me and do all the things the men like to do. I’ll bear your children. Several, if I must.”

I snort derisively.

“People may complain about me, saying I’m bossy, but they’ll never call me weak.”

She speaks truth, yet she does nothing to my blood.

But what does that matter when I have my line to think about? If I am to couple with one of the Penticari, they would have to be strong, for they would bear my children.

Amber licks her lips and takes a step toward me. “Well?”

“You have given me much to think about.”

Her eyes slowly draw down my body, settling at my loins. “Is there something I could do to help you make your decision?”

I know not what she is offering, but it piques my interest.

She takes another step toward me, her hand finding the waist of my pants.

Surely she could not mean to do this in the middle of the village.

Furious, I jerk back, glaring, and storm away before she can get another word out.

Though, deep down, I know it would be good for me to listen.

Nothing she said should offend me. In many ways, she is right with her assumptions.

Yet, I find the very sight of her offensive.

I wander the village, watching the women interacting with each other and with the men, remembering how repulsed I was when I first saw them.

Grixis spoke true when he said they were strong in different ways. They work dutifully, and there are bonds between them one would not see with the women of Tempest, who often engage in court chatter to gain power. Which seems like something Amber would do.

I pause when I see Eddard with Meg, the look in his eyes of utter devotion when he speaks with her.

I did not think that type of commitment was possible, but what is more surprising is Meg’s devotion to him.

On Tempest, it was rare for a woman to take only one mate, and it only happened when they were looking for very specific outcomes.

When my mother, the Queen of the Upper Reach, kept me, it was only because my father was the Great Warlord Grynrock, a man who took more land than any known warlord before him.

At my birth, my mother made a promise to the Queen of the Lowlands that I would be a gift to her daughter, the Great Princess Kasmina.

For years, I spent my every waking moment that I was not training, serving the princess, until eventually I was allowed into her bed.

But I failed. Again and again, I failed until someone else did not.

And now, I rot here, seeking to restore my honor.

Which would be impossible with Asha.

It is late when I finally make my way back to my hut and find Asha weaving by candlelight.

She trembles when I enter, which I mislike, but I can see why she would. I have not been kind to her, nor do I intend to be. What happened in the cave was a mistake, and I need to make sure she knows that.

She clears her throat. “I, ah, was hoping you could help me with something.”

“I am busy,” I say, my tone flat, uninterested. A lie.

I kick off my clothes and get into bed, staring up at the ceiling, cursing at Grixis in my mind for putting me in this situation.

“Then do you know someone who would bring me about a day’s walk from the village?”

I jerk upright. “Why do you need to travel out a day?”

“I need something called a grensir bug.”

“No, you do not.”

“Except that I do. I need it for something I’m making for Grixis.”

I mutter a string of curses under my breath, furious at her request.

“Never mind,” she says in a dejected voice that makes me eager to rectify the situation.

But I stop myself, because there is no point in pleasing this girl, for she is not meant for me, and I am not meant for her.

RAMSEY

The room is different from how I remember it. The lights dim, with warmth in the air.

The laughter comes, sharp and meant to wound me.

Have I lived this before? It feels like I have, half a thousand times.

Yet somehow, it is not the same.

Men from the barracks crowd her, my great princess, working to satisfy her.

Her laughs used to be reserved for me, and I cherished every chuckle.

Nothing is wholly mine now. Not as it was.

How are there so many men? At least a dozen?

I blink slowly, and everything slows for a moment.

The anger I know I should hold is replaced by confusion.

Laughter rises again, a titillating sound that irks me.

Once the princess sees me, these men will not matter, and they will be dismissed, as they have been before.

Why do I have doubt?

“Oh, look, it is solemn Ramsey,” the princess calls.

I stand in wait as the men move to the side, but instead of seeing the princess’s soft blue flesh, I see her skin is now painted a bright cream color.

But that is not all that is different. Her silver-gray hair is now the color of an alpha sun, bright and shining under the dim lights.

I take a step back, blinking in hopes of clearing my head.

A smile curls on her now pink lips, her blue eyes sparkle with mischief.

Her eyes should be silver…

Is this some new fashion I was not made aware of? I think not, because there would surely be a hint of my princess if it were.

“Where is the princess?” I demand.

“Do you not see me?” She shoos away a man rubbing her foot and gets up from her seat. She walks across the room to me, her garment flowing eerily behind her.

“Am I not how you remember me to be?”

My throat goes suddenly dry at her question, because I am lost.

She looks over her shoulder, and the men rush to her side, kneeling and rubbing her legs and back, taking her hand into theirs and nuzzling the palm.

And though this is clearly not the princess, I am more angry than I have ever been. More jealous than every other time I have seen the great princess with another.

Because whoever this woman is—she is mine. Somehow, I know this.

“Does it gladden you to see that I have been well cared for while you have been away at battle?” the pinkish woman asks. She steps closer, the men trailing her. “Or are you jealous?”

“What is going on?”

“You have finally come back from serving under the Great Warlord Manatrix. Do you not remember?”

I hardly remember anything.

Except that she is mine.

One of the men presses his face to her thigh, and blinding rage grips me.

“Get away from her,” I snarl.

She brings her hand down, cupping his cheek and keeping it pressed against her thigh. “You do not get to tell me who I keep.” She takes another step forward, lifting her hand from the man and bringing it to my own cheek. “You have disappointed me, Ramsey.”

“I have brought great honor to Tempest in my battles.”

“And yet my womb did not quicken with your seed.”

My teeth clench, and I look down, shocked by what I see.

Her flowing robes settle, falling flat on her rounded stomach.

The pinkish woman smirks.“Guards.”

Hands grab me, pulling me away from the pinkish woman, deeper into a nightmare.