Page 16 of The Warlord’s Princess (Warlords of Tempest #3)

RAMSEY

Hauling two endergulfs back to the village by myself is no easy feat, but I work slowly, charging forward as my mind mulls over all that has transpired as of late.

I still do not know what came over me in the cave, when I was alone with weak Asha. Seeing her without her shift had my mind twisted, and I could not help myself.

If I were alone with her again, my restraint would snap in an instant. Which is why I left at first light, before she roused from her slumber.

“Was there a hunting party I did not know about?” comes Dogan’s voice.

“No.”

“Were you attacked near the village, because if you were?—”

“I was not.”

“Then why?—”

“It does not matter,” I growl.

“At least let me help.”

I do not argue when he takes a rope to help haul the beasts back to the village. Nori treks off to the side, quiet as can be, keeping out of our way.

“Good luck to you with loud Amber. You are both ornery, so it is a good match.”

I pause, halting the makeshift sleigh, looking from Dogan to Nori.

Dogan smiles gleefully, but Nori is frowning and refuses to look at me.

“What do you mean by good luck with Amber?”

“Just that I hope it goes well. Nori is glad to rid the longhouse of her, as are others.”

“Why would the longhouse be rid of her?”

“Because she is now staying with you.”

“No, she is not…” Suddenly, I remember my evening conversation with her.

“She was making a fuss after morning meal, and?—”

Before he can finish, I rush toward the village, to my hut, leaving him with my kills.

A small crowd is gathered outside, looking through the open door with interest.

Shouts stream from my hut, growing louder as I approach.

“If Ramsey wanted me gone, he’d tell me himself,” Asha hisses.

“He’s too busy hunting and actually helping the tribes,” snarls Amber.

“You’d think he’d have told me last night while we were talking,” Asha returns.

I am most impressed with Asha’s tenacity. Just a few moons ago, I would have thought she would have scurried away by now, yet instead of retreating, she fights as her people do, with words.

“This isn’t your hut!”…“It’s not yours either.”…“Ramsey never wanted you here!”…“And I’m sure he never wanted to haul your weak backside across the forest,”… “You have no idea what he wants!”

Fenrick elbows my ribs. “You are perhaps the only Tempest man to have women fighting over him.”

I glare, and push through the small crowd, into my hut.

The women turn toward me, Asha’s blue eyes two icy pools of rage.

“Why are you in my hut?” I growl at Amber, baring my teeth as though I were rushing into battle.

Her face pales, her green eyes blinking. She takes a step back, cowering.

With two balled fists, Asha takes a step toward her, her face red with rage. I’ve never seen her like this before, and the scent she is giving off is intoxicating.

I move between the two, hoping to de-escalate the situation.

Amber lifts her chin, looking defiant and proud.

I look forward to humbling her.

“Leave!” I snarl, pointing emphatically at the door.

“Y-you said…” Amber swallows, looking around me at Asha with a hardened gaze. “You said you would think about it.”

“Then why are you here instead of leaving me to think?”

“Because I know you want her out of your hut, but you’re too dutiful to go against what Grixis thinks is best for the tribe.”

“You assume a lot.”

“What is there to assume? She is weak.” Amber wiggles her nose in disdain. “You’ve said so yourself, again and again—countless times, to anyone who will listen.”

“Yet she sits here, day in and day out, dutiful to her tribe while you go around, meddling, causing rifts where there need be none.” I take a step forward, snarling. “She adds; you take.”

Amber shifts uncomfortably, her eyes looking glassy, as though she might cry.

A growl escapes my throat as fury rises in my chest. Never have I spoken to a woman the way I speak to Amber, yet I cannot figure out what has me so angry.

Amber skirts around me, toward the door, but before she can exit, Grixis appears.

He looks from me to Amber, sighing. “Why must you fight as bruntlers do?”

“Do you care to tell him?” I growl. “Or should I?”

With the village gathered around, Amber seems to shrink, looking as small as a child.

Grixis’s silver eyes hone on her, his grip tightening around the axe at his waist, more out of habit than as a threat.

“I am sure Gaerth would be happy to have you helping him today,” he says through clenched teeth.

Amber nods and skulks away, keeping her head bowed.

Grixis turns to the people gathered. “Do you not have work to do?”

They scatter, knowing better than to press their luck.

“There is no end to the worry that one brings me,” Grixis mutters.

“She will continue to cause problems for you until she is properly humbled.”

“Care to tell me how one can tame a bruntler?” He shakes his head and leaves, heading toward the longhouse.

I scan the room, my eyes falling on a basket with Asha’s weaves tucked inside. One is torn and frayed.

Anger burns in my chest.

“She tore your weaves?”

Asha nods.

“It is my fault.”

She lifts her eyes to mine. “Because you were courting her?”

I shake my head. “No, though I should have made my disinterest more clear. My head was too full, and I wanted to rid myself of her chatter.”

“Full of what?”

“Confusion.”

“Well, your confusion cost me a day’s work.” She turns away, crossing her arms over her chest. “Court who you’d like—court Amber, even—you’d be perfect for each other.”

My mind is clouded. There are so many things I wish to say, yet all of them feel treasonous to the tongue.

With a huff, Asha bends, sifting through the weaves in her basket, muttering curses under her breath.

“I did not wish for this to happen to you.”

Her head snaps back, her blue eyes glaring up at me. “Of course you don’t, because you don’t want me here any longer than I have to be.”

Her face is still red, her features snarled, looking strangely adorable.

But it is her odor that speaks to me. Thick and heady, making me yearn to drink from her sacred font as I had in the cave.

I remember her cries; the way her fingers clawed my shoulders. How her body arched, twisting and writhing as I tasted her sweet nectar.

Why should I not claim her? She has proven herself willing to go toe-to-toe with her adversary. She has proven herself to be brave.

But bravery is not strength. The weakest among us can charge first into battle…

Asha rises to a stand, muttering a string of Penticari curses I do not recognize. Her hands open and close, flexing, every muscle pulling tight as she tries to bottle her fury.

I hate that I helped cause this.

She paces back and forth, three steps left, three steps right, sweat pooling at her brow.

“You probably think this is funny,” she finally huffs out.

“I do not.”

She pivots around, scowling, her brow narrowed in fury, breathing through clenched teeth.

And, despite my disdain for the small woman, I cannot help but wonder if the pink flesh underneath her clothes is the same color as her ruddy cheeks.

I must find out.

ASHA

I shouldn’t be this mad.

Even if I need to reweave half the blanket, Elena will understand. It’s not my fault.

But it’s not the blanket I’m upset about.

Clearly, Ramsey led Amber on, which means he’s interested in her, even if he doesn’t want to admit it.

Which means he regrets what happened between us in the cave.

But as angry as I am, it’s not directed at Ramsey, or even Amber. I’m furious with myself.

I was the fool, allowing myself to feel something for a man who detests my very existence.

My stupid girlish heart just couldn’t help itself, and now I’m sick with feelings I can’t make sense of.

But who could blame a girl for falling for a man so well built, he makes every Penticari man in existence look but a boy?

And that’s no exaggeration.

His long, sinewy muscles are perfectly chiseled, and his dark features give him an air of mystery.

And his tongue…

What right does it have to make me feel so good after saying such dastardly things about me?

I turn away, stomping my foot on the floor, wishing I could somehow disappear.

“Asha?” His voice is thick and husky, making my lady parts clench.

“I should just leave!” I blurt, balling my hands into such tight fists that I draw blood from my palms.

“And where would you go, Little Vaeyark?” he asks with amusement.

Furious at his stupid nickname for me, I spin to unleash my fury, but all at once, I’m lifted off the ground.

“Hey—”

Lips press against mine, hungry as they scatter kisses along my mouth, over my jaw, up to my ear.

My body comes alive with heat, the air growing suddenly thick. I want to cry out, but the entire village would hear me.

He grabs the outer layer I’m wearing, his mouth disconnecting from mine so he can pull it up and off my body, leaving me in a thin under layer that does nothing to hide my body.

I come to my senses, asking, “What are you doing?”

“Dining on vaeyark.”

“But—”

His lips press to mine again, his tongue slipping into my mouth. I moan against him, feeling strangely powerful in his arms.

He sets me down on the table, leaning forward, forcing me back as he pulls at the ties of my shift.

“Too many clothes,” he growls, growing frustrated.

I grab a tie, quickly pulling it and opening my shift so that he can see more of me.

His silver eyes flicker with what I can only assume is lust as he looks down my body, his gaze lingering on my small breasts.

My nipples are puckered, looking more red than I’ve seen them. I try to appear confident, but I tremble from both fear and pent-up aggression. Or is it lust?

Finally, when I can no longer handle the suspense, he takes one of my breasts in his enormous hand and bends, licking a circle around the nipple.

A strong pulse livens between my thighs, like the one I had yesterday, and I yelp.

He groans. “Your smell is the death of my sanity.”

I giggle and make a mental note to tell Nori she was right.