26. Onora
Chapter 26
Onora
D ryston slept most of the next day and Onora sat at the farthest edge of the bed, staring out the window. Soft flurries of snow fell here and there as the wind howled outside and she was thankful for the warm cabin. Silenus had gone out, looking for food and to ask Naida—the nymph who had found her—if she had any news for them.
Fear coiled around her. Would they make it to the magesmith in one piece? Was it all a fool’s hope?
Hello .
She shoved that little voice away as shadows burst out of her, twining around her face, then sweeping down and caressing the sleeping demon beside her. He looked so gentle in rest, even if he was large enough to take up the majority of the bed. He mumbled in his sleep, turning over, his arm flipping over her thigh, his head resting against her legs, shooting fear up her spine. But not because he was a demon.
Instead, because of the horrifying way his simple touches sent a blazing heat between her thighs that she was fairly certain he could somehow sense. He seemed to earlier, much to her mortification. She could still picture him, kneeling between her knees, his hands on her thighs, strong, firm, sure.
She rubbed her thighs together, swallowing away the image and staring out the window, trying to think of anything else but him. Anything but how handsome he looked in the position. How she had the strongest urge to touch his horns. How his horns would be wonderful things to hold on to tightly while he ...
She shook her head, biting her lip, trying to calm the way her heart thumped against her ribs.
His hand gripped her thigh, his face pressing against her, and she groaned inwardly.
Fuck him and fuck this thrall.
His hand moved up her thigh, an innocent enough motion, but the location was too much. Far too much. Desire washed over her like a flame, and she stared down at him, horrified and angered that he was blissfully sleeping while she was tormented by his demonic thrall.
She tried to yank her leg away, only for him to hold firm, the strength in his grip enough to send her mind dipping to imaginings best left uncovered. Drawing in a breath, she yanked her leg away with enough force that he woke up, blinking his eyes in confusion as she tried to stabilize herself from the overcorrection, her body tilting toward the window with a frightening speed.
Dryston moved in an instant, reaching to grab her, but the movement of his body shifted the bed so instead she toppled the opposite way and fell against his chest. His arms caught and held her. She looked up and the top of her head connected with his chin, his teeth clattering loudly.
“Fuckkkk, Onora,” he hissed.
“Well, maybe you shouldn’t fucking touch me, Dryston,” she spat.
“ You’re the one who fell into my arms.”
“You say that like I wanted to.” She pressed against his chest to sit up, but her hair tangled in front of her face and her arms were too interlocked in front of her to be of much effect.
“I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look on your face while you watched me fully undress in that cave.”
She scoffed, pushing off him, only to fall back on him from the shifting bed. “I loathe touching you, Dryston. Don’t get any high ideas. That look I gave you meant nothing.”
His grin widened. “That wasn’t the only time.”
She scowled at him and he only chuckled, which infuriated her more. “Any look has simply been to find vulnerabilities.”
He raised his brows. “Have you found any?”
She pulled her dagger out and pressed it to his ribs. “Just the normal ones, Dryston. Demons fall as easily as humans do, and I know all the ways to kill you in a matter of seconds.”
His eyes darkened, his hand going to hers, not removing it, just resting there. “I’ll be sure to not anger you then.”
“I think that would require an act of divinity.”
His thumb traced the back of her hand, never removing the dagger, letting it rest against him, poised for a kill strike. Breathing became difficult and focusing damn near impossible.
“Do I annoy you? Or does your attraction to me annoy you?” His eyes danced with a mischief that made her see red.
“I would have to find you attractive for that to be true, so you can erase that theory from your mind.”
His hand left hers, forefinger tracing a delicate line on her forearm, sending a shiver through her. His eyes darted to hers, darkening, and she knew she was in real danger now.
Real danger of letting this male do as he pleased with her.
And possibly begging him to do so.
In a swift motion, he gripped her hips, flipping her over, so he was on top, unhanding the dagger and tossing it to clatter on the floor.
No. Definitely in danger of begging him to have his way with her.
Which made her feel out of control—more untethered than before. The past few days had only been a constant free fall. Every new piece of information warped her perception of reality until it was unrecognizable.
The heavy rise and fall of his chest as his gaze raked over her wasn’t helping. Not one bit. His wings fanned out behind him, a show of strength, a challenge to her threats, but his hands gently gripped her waist, a devastating desperation wrecked his features, a longing so deep she felt like she were drowning in it, gulping and desperate for air.
She suddenly understood why the thrall was said to be so all-consuming, why humans were warned time and again of resisting it. She’d be damned if she were so easily pulled under his thrall.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, making his eyes go wide, his jaw tensing as he swallowed hard.
Then she pressed up, noting the barely aborted grunt he swallowed before she twisted her hips, bracing against his shoulder, and flipped him over so she was on top now.
Surprise lit his eyes but was quickly chased away by a heavy-lidded lust. “This works, too,” he choked out and damnit if that didn’t send a thrill through her.
She had to keep her wits about her, though. They were alone for the gods knew how long. Silenus could walk through the door any minute, and Dryston would be entirely too smug about having a witness to her straddling him. She had no business giving in to him. She needed to let him know she wasn’t interested. Because she wasn’t ...
His hand trailed up her thigh, and she couldn’t remember what she’d just been thinking. Suddenly her clothes were too much, too constricting. She was desperate to feel his skin on hers, to feel his rough hands all over her, to run her hands over his horns, to feel his lips on every part of her.
“Dryston ...” She fisted his shirt, unsure what to say, how to act.
His hands moved up to her hips, gripping them, and she swallowed a groan. Then he gently adjusted her, moving her off him, setting her aside and sitting up, rubbing his forehead and shooting her a grin as if none of the last few moments had happened.
Left reeling, she tried to gather her thoughts, barely managing to compose her face as she realized that had been a joke for him. A power play.
“We should eat,” he said, scooting to the edge of the bed.
She nodded, feeling like a fool, swallowing the bitter taste in her mouth. Silenus came in then, carrying more firewood.
“Naida said that Kalen and Maria are safe, and the Hunters have moved north, wary of the orc lands,” he said, smiling. “We leave tomorrow morning, bright and early.”