22. Onora
Chapter 22
Onora
O nora closed her eyes and braced as they hit the water, the impact making her teeth clatter. The water rushed over her head and she held her breath, desperate for another gulp of air, for anything to help. His body was over her, also submerged, taken by the current and dragged under.
She stuck to him, knowing that if she didn’t, she would be dragged by the chain on her arm and pulled under, possibly dashing her on the rocks.
When she felt like she couldn’t hold on any longer, when she thought that she would pass out or welcome the water into her lungs, her head broke through. Dryston swam with the current, his wings and tail helping direct him. The sounds of their pursuers faded as the distance and the roar swallowed them up into the growing darkness. A cold chill swept through, making her shiver as her breath came out in puffs.
She lost track of time as they floated along until finally, they washed ashore, under a cave. She clung to Dryston as he got them safely on land, then he collapsed, breathing hard, face contorted in pain. Her limbs were so stiff that she could barely move. She tried to stand but collapsed—the feeling gone. Dryston caught her, placing an arm under her knees and pulling her in his arms.
She hated needing his help, but her whole body shook, aching with every breath in. He took her into the cave, so dark she could only make out his faint outline as her eyes adjusted. Water crashed against the walls, a slow trickle in the back reverberating.
Dryston sat her down, taking her shivering hands between his and rubbing them. A small warmth returned to her fingers, bringing a prickling sensation that made her groan in pain, the sound rhythmic as her teeth clattered.
She held up a shaky hand and pointed at his wings. “Th-the, a-a-rr-rrows.”
He kept rubbing her hands. “I’ll be fine.”
She shook off his grasp, stumbling to her feet and placing her hands against the cool wall for support. A bit of feeling and warmth had returned to her, and she managed to walk over to examine him, able to see as her eyes adjusted in the darkness. The chain clanked between them, an ominous sound in the echoing cave.
The arrows were bent and broken, some just jagged stubs coming out of bleeding wounds.
“I-I’m g-going t-to pull them out,” she stammered.
He nodded, and she grabbed the first one, wrapping her hand around the shaft. But it only slipped, wet from the water and blood. Grabbing her shirt, she yanked it out of her trousers, feeling the sturdy cotton and then taking a rip of it and wrapping it around the shaft. It was still slick, but this time she was able to pull it out swiftly, the sound of it ripping through flesh surrounding them as it bounced off the walls. Dryston let out a grunt, bracing against the rock wall as she took out the others.
She used her hands where her eyesight failed her, feeling the wounds for any sign of infection or anything that would need special attention. Nothing met her wanting hands, only hisses from Dryston, and she felt confident that his speedy recovery would help if there were anything lingering.
They slumped to the ground, the cold seeping in deep, frosting her nose and body. It was the kind of cold that made logic flee in the despair of never feeling warmth again.
“You’re still shivering,” he said, and the concern in his voice was almost as loud as the raging river outside.
“Well,” she said, annoyed but sounding funny between the clacks of her teeth. “It’s freezing.”
“Fuck.”
He moved closer, pulling her into his arms. His heat wrapped around her, his strength engulfing her, but she pushed, thrashing against him weakly.
“What are you doing?” she hissed.
“I don’t have the means to make a fire, do you?”
Silence.
He continued. “We have to use body heat to get warm.”
She could feel his warmth against her hands. Delicious, enticing. If she hadn’t been under a thrall before, the promise of that heat would pull her right into one.
“Fine,” she said through clenched teeth and reluctantly pressed against him, the small bit of warmth taking the edge off. Still, she shook against the bitter cold, teeth clattering, her bones chilling.
“We need to take off more layers,” he said quietly, reluctantly.
She groaned but knew he was right. Their clothes were too wet—icy in some spots.
Standing, she turned from him. It was dark enough she could only really make out his outline and faint movements, but she knew a demon’s vision in the dark was excellent. How much could he see, though? She carefully removed her pants, wanting to leave her undergarments, but they were soaked through, so she carefully peeled them off as well.
She told herself not to look. She couldn’t see anything anyway, right? But her eyes were adjusting and some needling part of her wanted to know if he was looking away, too. It was merely to ensure her own chastity—that’s it.
Glancing over her shoulder, she was surprised by what she could see. The outline and shadows shifting around his imposing frame, his biceps and shoulders rife with muscle. His chest and abs were well-defined, dipping to a dramatic V above the soaked trousers that clung to him. She swallowed, blinking at the outline she saw there. It shouldn’t be shocking that he was large there too when he wasn’t small anywhere else.
“I’ll have to start charging you for the viewing, Lieutenant,” he drawled, a smug humor in his voice that made her eyes snap up to his in disgust. “I think it’s customary to give coins for a strip.”
She scoffed. “I would if there was anything impressive to see.”
His jaw flexed, and he let out a sardonic laugh. “Deny it all you want, darling, but I?—”
His voice trailed off, expression slack. Onora didn’t know what had come over her. Perhaps it was the competition of it all, perhaps it was his constant teasing. Perhaps it was because she had known it would have this reaction, and she loved the thrill of power that raced through her veins at the sight of him shocked into silence.
She finished pulling her shirt over her head and unclasping her bustier, letting it fall away. His throat bobbed, mouth shut, as his eyes roved down the length of her.
One part of her felt fear. He was so much larger than her, his horns imposing and his body lethal.
But another part that she hated to admit was much, much larger, felt a deep swell of satisfaction. Triumph.
Desire.
The cold nipped harder at her bare skin and her nipples peaked, his eyes snagging and pausing there before meeting hers again with the expression of a man ready to beg for mercy.
And she would smile as she commanded him to beg for it if it weren’t for the cold biting into her bare skin and making her shiver harder than before.
He came forward in an instant. No more flirtation, no more competition. He tugged her against him and slid to the ground, laying them down.
His arms were strong and wide, his forearm the size of her neck, his biceps almost the size of her thighs. She swallowed, placing her hands on his chest to provide some space for her breasts to him, but he adjusted, pulling her arms and placing them on his side, tugging her against him, the hard, muscled planes of his torso tight against her body, making her swallow. Warmth would come to her one way or the other. His wings wrapped around them, insulating her, and soon the heat halted her shivering.
He rubbed her back, the gentle but firm strokes returning a bit of heat to her, and she nuzzled closer, desperate to melt the persistent chill that seeped to her bones. His body was like a blast of heat from a fireplace, and she shifted, moving her legs between his to get warmer.
He stiffened, his hands slowing slightly as if distracted, but she was too cold to care. She pressed against him tighter, the feeling of his skin on hers almost hypnotic in the comfort of it.
Gods, how long had it been since she’d cuddled anyone?
Brayden had never been overly affectionate, though. Once he was done, he put clothes on or rolled away and fell asleep. He had little interest in cuddling, and Onora had always thought she was the same.
Dryston’s body was a comfort. Despite the hard muscles, his skin was soft and comforting. He smelled like the moonflowers and a cool summer night. The feeling of skin against skin seemed to calm her racing mind and let her drift.
She shifted again, bringing her hips against his to get even closer.
His hand reached around, grabbing her thigh, and he tugged her up so her body and hips were against his torso. He shifted his hips so his top leg came over hers, fully covering her. His hand still gripped her thigh, though, and her heart pounded, a dose of extra heat flooding her from head to toe, bursting like lava between her legs.
“Is this uncomfortable for you?” she asked, unsure why he had her at such an odd angle. She was comfortable, fully so, but surely he wasn’t.
He was silent for a beat. “Yes,” he said, voice husky. “Go to sleep, Onora.”
Her senses thrilled and tingled at his deepened voice—the roughness and rawness there.
Was he . . . ?
She shook her head, nuzzling it against his chest to hide from the cold. Surely not. This wasn’t sexual.
It was survival.
He held his breath as her face pressed against his pecs, and a wicked thought consumed her. How would he react if she ran her hand up his torso?
No, she wouldn’t do that.
But she flattened her palm against his lower abdomen and his chest rose and fell suddenly with a sharp intake of breath. His leg shifted again, clearly hiding something. She swallowed. There was her answer, and she could lie here and stew about how he was turned on when she was shivering and they were being hunted, and she could be angry with him.
If she weren’t so consumed with how large his hand was against her thick thighs, of how it hadn’t left, of how his fingers wrapped around and between her legs, so close to the spot that was now aching.
No, this was a slippery slope. It was the thrall, and that was it. If she gave in a little now, she would be consumed by him.
She looked up, barely able to make anything out in the dark.
Yet, she could feel his gaze on her, hot as a brand, focused and intent. She buried her head again and curled her hand into a fist, tucking it into her side.
She would go to sleep and forget this had happened. They had to work together to survive. Nothing more.