Chapter 6
Asterion
Anew feeling settles right behind my sternum, my heart jumping to escape its cage as my body presses against my mate’s, and I know I am completely at the Fates’ mercy.
It is taking every ounce of me not to rut into this Fates-forsaken girl beneath me.
Her strawberry scent is maddening, driving my primal instincts to the forefront, reducing my self-control to an infinitesimal blip in my consciousness.
When she ran—Fates help me—there was nothing on this earth that could have stopped me from giving chase.
She squirms beneath me, and a shiver wracks my body.
Every muscle aches from the tension of holding myself back.
My horns throb at the base from driving them into the ground in a bid to prevent any injury to this slip of a human.
I can feel the rawness of my forearms where they skidded against the dirt floor, rocky debris embedding itself in my skin.
Though it is better my skin than hers. The only mark I want to see on her milky skin is the red imprint of my hand across her backside.
I grunt, annoyed at myself. These are not thoughts I should be having.
This girl has already caused me more trouble in the last hour than any other has in the last millennium.
I have played right into the Drakons’ dirty trick, and the loss of control sinks like a heavy rock of shame in the pit of my gut.
That alone is enough to help my cock soften, and my limbs relax in a sigh of relief, glad that the adrenaline of the hunt has finally abated.
The girl makes a muffled sound beneath me before slamming the back of her skull into my nose.
Sharp pain radiates up its length and behind my eyes, and I roll off her, lying on my back in the dirt, my chest heaving with anger as I rub my snout.
“Why you little—” My muffled growl is cut off.
“It wasn’t enough to chase me down and pin me with your giant fucking dick,” she gasps out. “You had to smother me as well? Fuck.”
The girl pushes up onto her hands and knees, head bowed as she catches her breath.
Her dark shirt sticks to her back from our combined sweat and drapes beneath her, revealing a thin stretch of milky stomach.
Thin is an understatement. She does not look like she has eaten a full meal in her life.
Straggly hair hangs over her forehead in violet strands as she shoots me a dirty look.
This girl has more fight in her than she has any right to. A viper indeed.
I say nothing, but she is right. Shame, shame, shame—it courses through my bloodstream, making my cheeks heat.
Anger at the Drakons for using my own weaknesses against me burns in my veins.
I decide that this affront cannot stand.
The Drakons will take her back whether they want to or not. Mates be damned.
I heft myself back onto my feet, surprised that she has not tried to run already.
She eyes me warily as she also stands, trepidation in her gaze as she slowly begins backing up upon my approach.
She holds out her hands in front of her as though trying to placate a wild animal, and that makes the anger simmering inside me overflow.
“Why are you looking at me like that? We had a deal. You said you weren’t going to eat me—!
” She ends in a squeak as I reach her in two steps and grab her elbow.
I hold her tight enough that she cannot get free, but I am also now aware of how frail her bones are, so I do not grip so tight as to cause her bruising like earlier.
I pull her toward my home, making her turn and stumble after me.
“Wh-what are you doing?” Her voice wobbles, soured strawberries perfuming the air, giving away her fear.
“I am taking you back,” I grunt out as we enter the small hut.
“Sit.” I shove her toward a stool in the corner, concealed by shadows. I do not bother to light a candle as I throw together a pack for traveling. She watches my every move closely from her place perched on the edge of the stool, ready to take flight at a moment’s notice.
I grab dried meats and herbs, some root vegetables I harvested only yesterday, a thin piece of slate to cook upon, pots, and a water skin that I fill from a spigot I rigged into the wall of my hut, pulling from the natural spring beneath the mountain.
The water is lukewarm but clean enough for drinking.
I also grab a flint for lighting a fire—though we should only need it for cooking.
The temperature is always mild in Aeolia.
Trapped in a constant state of spring, there is not often a need for additional warmth.
I do not expect the journey up the mountain to take more than a couple of nights before we reach the Drakons, but I am also used to traveling at my pace and not the pace of a girl whose legs are half the length of mine and whose body might take flight at the first sign of a stiff breeze.
“Do I get a say on whether or not I go back?” a small but haughty voice chimes out from the corner.
“No,” I reply, tying the pack tight and hoisting it over my shoulder.
“Well, I guess there’s nothing stopping me from running again.” She shrugs, nonplussed.
I narrow my gaze at her, then look around my home until I spot what it is I am looking for.
Unraveling the braided rope, I tie one end around my middle and stalk over to where she sits on the stool, her legs swinging in the air since she cannot touch the ground.
The sight is ridiculous—the stool that is perfect for me makes her look even more miniature.
She looks up at me distrustfully, and I loop the other end of the rope around her middle and pull it tight before she can protest.
“Hey! What the hell!” She jumps off the stool, and I cannot help but snort, tucking the laughter away behind pursed lips. I would not want the little viper to slash me again with that wicked little blade.
I tug on the rope, jolting her toward me, and reach my fingers into the little hideaway that she has on her pants.
It is so small and tight that I can only wriggle two fingers in there to retrieve the blade she has tucked away.
She sucks in a sharp breath, her body coiled up and tense.
Her bottom lip pops open just slightly, and I can hear the quiet unevenness of her breath.
In the shadows, her pupils dilate, and the scent of strawberries wafts from her skin.
Great. Now I am never going to get her Fates-damned scent out of my home.
I retrieve the blade and tuck it away in the waistband of my loincloth.
“Would not want you cutting your way free.” I grunt, swiftly turning on my heel and heading for the doorway.
“Come.” I smirk, knowing that this little viper has no choice but to heed my order. I do not look at her as I leave my home, but I feel the small resistance on the rope as she hesitates for as long as she can before she stumbles after me.