9. Dryston
Chapter 9
Dryston
“ W e shouldn’t tarry here,” Kalen said as they walked through the streets of Orc Haven’s merchant district.
He was right. They’d secured an alliance with Lord Killgan and now he needed to head home and keep his end of the bargain, sending exports to the clans. There was nothing else keeping him here.
Nothing except a pair of stormy blue eyes that seemed to reach out and twine around him, tethering him in place. He shook his head. That was foolishness. Even if he hadn’t been able to get the feeling of her hand on his chest out of his mind. Even if the sharp intake of breath when he pulled her close replayed like a siren’s song every minute since he’d heard it. Even if he’d had to fight off fantasies of burying himself deep between her thighs.
Kalen slid him a suspicious glance. “Why haven’t we left yet?”
“Because you and Silenus are the best of friends,” he said, flashing a grin.
Kalen screwed up his face. The animosity between the two had only ramped up as time went on, and for the life of him, Dryston couldn’t figure out why the two males hated one another. It didn’t matter, though. It worked to divert Kalen’s attention away from why Dryston was actually dragging his feet to leave.
A few more days, that’s all he wanted.
Because some part of him needed to at least hear that Onora was safe. That the emergency that had called her away hadn’t harmed her. He’d almost taken flight several times, ready to head in the direction she’d left and just see what was happening, but she was more than capable of handling it, and she was right. It wouldn’t be good to traipse into the human lands.
They came to the tavern and breathed in the warmth of the fire, taking a seat at the bar and eating the dinner Aife laid out for them. It wasn’t long before the doors opened and, like a needlepoint on his senses, Dryston felt the presence.
Her presence.
He turned, expecting to see nothing, when he took in the sight of Onora in her full Hunter’s raiment. He stood without thinking, taking two steps toward her before her gaze pinned him in place, full of ire. It hit him like a punch to the gut, and he halted. She kept her steely gaze on him as she walked past, Brayden following behind like a pup, and went up the stairs.
“Damn, Drys, what did you do to her?” Kalen asked.
“I have no clue,” he muttered.
Dreams shifted before Dryston’s eyes, dropping away and changing so quickly that it took him longer to realize the sounds he was hearing were actually in the room with him, and not in his hallucinations only. His eyes sprang open, but he didn’t move an inch. A breeze came in through the open window and a person along with it. She was soft footed and near silent as a mouse.
She padded across the wooden floor, swift and sure, heading toward him. He lay still, observing, waiting.
What in the darkest pit was Onora doing here?
Standing next to the bed, she looked down, taking intentional, steadying breaths. She was nervous—he could hear it in the staccato beat of her heart and her uneven breaths. Her hand moved, reaching to her thigh and pulling out a knife, the moonlight catching the glint of the blade.
Her hand came up, and he grabbed her wrist, pulling and flipping her onto the bed, straddling her. A muffled groan escaped her as his hand wrapped around her neck, his body pinning her firmly in place. A blond braid fell to the side, and Onora looked up at him with a snarl. His wings loomed out behind him, adding more intimidation than was perhaps necessary, but he didn’t miss the way her eyes darted to them, wincing.
“Normally, when a female tries to sneak into my room, I’m in for some fun,” he said. “But I have a feeling I won’t like what you were planning, will I, Onora?”
In one swift movement, she took a dagger and sliced his stomach. It was a shallow cut, and he had her in a hold in an instant, his arms locking hers at her side, his blood dripping onto her shirt.
He grunted and grimaced in pain. The cut burned, then turned cold as ice as his vision became blurry. “What the fuck, Onora?”
“I know what you did to those people,” she growled in his ear. His grip loosened slightly. Dizziness made his vision swim and he couldn’t tell up from down. “You’ll get what’s coming to you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re a manipulative liar,” she spat.
He tried to say more, but his eyes drooped and his arms fell away from her. The last thing he remembered was Onora standing over him, looking at him with betrayal in her eyes.