Chapter Twenty
TWENTY
ASPETH
19 Days Before the Conquest Moon
Day two in the woods is miserable. It rains upon us all night long, and we’re shivering and cold. The fire won’t stay lit, and no one’s in a good mood. We’re beset by swarms of bugs that bite and sting every exposed inch of skin, and I slap at my arms and legs repeatedly, because the dratted things even bite me through my clothes.
Hawk seems to be in a foul mood after that night’s training, and after being bitten by bugs and listening to Magpie screech at us about how terrible we are, the last thing I want is to be stuck in a closed tent with an equally grumpy Taurian. He’s been so snarly all night and it irritates me. I’m reminded of my etiquette teacher’s words—that you can win far more suitors with sweets than with vinegar—and so I paste a smile to my face despite my fatigue.
I’m going to charm my husband, damn it all.
So I take off my sweaty guild coat and unlace my corset so I can breathe, relaxing. I pull off my boots and lie back atop the blankets because the day is warm and the sun is beating down upon our tent outside. At least it’s somewhat dark in here. Since we’re training in the night, we’re having to sleep during the day. Hawk stomps in, his mood as foul as it was earlier, and I don’t comment upon it. I just stretch, enjoying the feeling of being able to relax and not carrying a heavy pack upon my back.
He tosses his coat down on the bottom of the tent, his jaw clenched, and then all but rips his shirt off.
That gets my attention.
I watch as his broad muscles flex, the russet color of his body and coat fascinating and shiny. It makes each muscle seem highlighted, as if drawing attention to just how corded and taut his arms are, or how his pectorals are nothing but thick planes built by even more muscle. He scratches at his waist, and my fingers twitch with the need to touch him, to run my hands over all that physical power.
Goddess, I never thought I was one of those women to get the vapors at the sight of a strong chest, but I see now that I was wrong. Because looking at a half-naked Hawk is making me feel fluttery and distracted. If I reached for him, would he slap me away with a flick of his tail? Or would he welcome my exploring hands?
I wish I knew.
“Hawk…?”
He grunts, acknowledging that he’s heard me.
My nerve deserts me. I curl my fingers into fists and decide to go for conversation instead. Propping my head on my folded arm, I turn on my side and watch him as he pulls off his belt in preparation for sleep. “Tell me about you.”
“Tell you about me?”
“Yes, please.”
“I have a new wife who needs to go to sleep,” he says in a terse voice.
A mosquito lands on my arm and I slap it with annoyance.
Hawk goes still. “What was that?”
“Mosquito.”
“Ah.” He shakes his head. “Pests are out today. The Dark God must be in a good mood to send so many of his servants to annoy us.”
“Or they’re just plentiful because we’re in the woods,” I reply, and then return to my initial subject. “So you won’t talk to me about you?”
“You should go to sleep.”
“No, I should get to know my husband. Since we’re going to be sharing a marriage bed and all.” I keep a smile on my face, though it’s not hard to do now that he’s nude except for his pants and is easing his big body down onto the ground next to me. I think about being in the tent with him the other night and how he’d pushed his fingers into my pants and touched me until I came, and my thighs clench together because I want to do that again and I don’t know how to ask.
Hawk rolls his eyes and adjusts the blankets under his body. I notice he’s not getting under the covers, either. “Fine. What do you want to know?”
“You don’t have to sound so put-upon. It was a simple request.”
He tugs on the ring on his nose. “I just…none of this gives me a good feeling.”
“You and me?” I’m hurt, because this feels as if it is coming out of nowhere. I know we’re still getting to know each other, but surely he doesn’t feel the marriage was a mistake, does he?
But Hawk glances over at me in surprise. He rolls onto his side, facing me. “No. Sorry, I should have been clearer. I meant I don’t have a good feeling about your Five. About Magpie being involved.” He reaches out and runs a fingertip down my nose, tracing the length of it as if fascinated by its size. “You’re actually the only one I do have a good feeling about.”
Warmth threads itself through my body, and I’m desperate for more touching. I didn’t realize how much I craved it until I married Hawk. I always wished the staff—or my father—would hug me when I was back at the hold, but I knew those embraces wouldn’t happen. Now that I’m married and Hawk touches me? It’s an addiction I want to feed. I need him to touch me constantly. I need him to reach for me. I need him to pull me close and tuck me against him.
Or put his hands in my pants again. Truly, I’m fine with either.
But his words of flattery—as lovely as they are—are just as surprising. “If you think I’m competent, why are you so mean to me?”
Hawk chuckles, the sound low and sensual, and my nipples harden in response. “I didn’t say you were competent, little bird. But I trust you to have good sense when it comes to being in the tunnels. It’s clear you’ve studied the guild and the ruins, which is more than I can say for the others. If anyone in your group will pass, I think it’s you.” He traces my nose again, and then moves down to the divot between my nose and my lip. “But that’s why I have to be so hard on you. The guild will be suspicious because we are married. You have to show that you’re an excellent student no matter what is thrown at you.”
His teasing finger is making my blood heat. I want to suck on his fingertip. I want to touch his cock. I want—
Something crawls over his bare arm. A tiny spider. Automatically, I reach out and flick it off his shoulder.
“What was that?” he growls, his tail thudding hard against the ground.
“Spider. It’s gone now. Nasty little creatures.” I fight back a yawn. To my surprise, Hawk jerks to his feet and abandons the tent. “I…Where are you going?”
“Need to talk to Magpie” is all he calls back, voice strangely tight.
Rude. Rude to just up and leave after teasing me like that. With a huff of annoyance, I close my eyes and try to go to sleep.
HAWK
Being in the tent with Aspeth each day is the sweetest torture. At night, when they’re marching through the woods, it’s easy to push down any feelings of affection. It’s easy to focus on the task ahead of us—of training the fledglings. Magpie seems to be in a good mood—almost too good. She swears she’s not drinking, but she also won’t let me sniff her breath, so I don’t know that I believe her.
It’s hard to trust again after so long.
But Aspeth’s presence makes this better than most fledgling trainings. After I checked everything thoroughly for spiders, I returned to the tent to find Aspeth still awake. We talked when we should have been resting. Just lay on our sides and discussed everything and nothing. It was…nice. Real nice. Nice to have someone I can talk to and who sees the situation for what it is. Nice to have an equal who isn’t a staggering drunk . I might be Aspeth’s teacher, but it’s clear after a few hours of conversation that she could teach me a lot about Old Prell, and I enjoy her intelligence.
I actually look forward to our next rest period in the tent.
Once the training is done for the night and Magpie is sweaty and pale with fatigue, I tap Aspeth on the shoulder. “Time for bed.”
“Oooooooh,” Lark coos, because she’s ridiculous. At her side, Mereden giggles behind her hand.
“You all need to get some rest,” I tell them sternly. My cock is reacting to the Conquest Moon—and to Aspeth’s nearness—and by the time we get into the tent, I’m rock-hard and aching. Not that I’d rut my soft little wife here in the woods. But bury me, I sure do think about it.
We undress in silence, and then Aspeth lets out a sigh of pleasure, scratching at the chemise she wears under her corset. “Gods, that feels good.”
I grunt, adjusting my cock surreptitiously. “Get some sleep.”
But my wife never listens to anything I say. I can’t decide if I find it amusing or irritating, but I’m leaning toward amusing. She lies atop the blankets again, her nipples poking against the fabric of her chemise, and stifles a yawn as she gazes up at me. “No sleep. This is our get-to-know-each-other time and I plan on taking full advantage of it. What’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever found in the Everbelow?”
Her question makes me chuckle, because of course Aspeth wants to know all about the job. “You mean the most expensive thing? The most powerful?”
She turns on her side and tucks her arm under her head again, gazing at me as I lie down. “No, I mean the most beautiful. Old Prell was full of all kinds of beautiful works, and not just magical ones. I’ve seen drawings of Prellian frescoes that would put modern artists to shame. I’ve read about glorious architecture. I can’t wait to see it all. I was just curious what you’d seen. It doesn’t have to be an artifact.” Her eyes gleam with a dreamy expression. “I wish I could have seen Prell in its height of power. I bet it was splendid.”
“It also fell into the ground at its height of power. You wouldn’t want to be around for that.”
Aspeth bats at my arm, chuckling. “Don’t ruin my dreams.”
I consider her words, lying on my back and gazing up at the ceiling of the tent, a blanket strategically placed over my cock. Her hand remains on my arm, touch lingering, and it’s making my erection remain as hard and aching as ever. “I used to go in the tunnels all the time when I first joined the guild. I do it less now—or rather, I do it for artifacts less now. I end up on more retrieval missions than anything. But I remember that I found a mirror once, and it made me stop in my tracks.”
“A mirror,” she breathes. “How incredible. Was it broken?”
I shake my head. “It was wrapped in fabric in a tunnel, just wedged in some rocks near an old cave-in. Perhaps a thief tried to steal it and decided not to bother and left it behind, but when I found it, there was nothing else around. No ruins, no other artifacts, just that solitary wrapped mirror.” Holding my hands in the air, I try to shape it with my fingers. “It was about the size of a platter, and as clear as day. All around the edges the metal was worked so delicately that it looked like vines covered in flowers, and every flower was a different size and shade. Every leaf, every petal, all of it was made from colored gemstones. A few of them had chipped and cracked but it was still gorgeous.”
“How beautiful. Was it magical?”
“That’s the ironic part.” I chuckle at the memory. “The only thing the mirror did was make your hair seem a dark, rich black in the reflection. Got rid of the grays. And if your hair wasn’t black, it adjusted your reflection. Useless.”
“Someone was sensitive about his hair, then,” Aspeth replies with a soft smile. “How funny that they were a people who imbued magic into everything they owned and we’re a people with no magic at all.”
“That’s because all the mancers went crazy three hundred years ago. Better to not have magic. At least with a magic mirror, you can put the mirror away.”
“I suppose.” Her smile grows broader as she gazes up at me. “Have you ever found something you wished you could keep?”
You.
The foolish thought bubbles up and I push it away, because it’s likely moon-induced. Ours is a marriage of convenience, nothing more.