Chapter 13 #2
Syla looked back at him, scrutinizing his face. Trying to tell if he was lying? He couldn’t imagine lying about something like that.
“I lost my father too,” Syla admitted. “Not yesterday but several years ago. He was… I was closer to him than to anyone else in my family. He was easier to love than my mother. Even though he was king, he always made time for all of us. Even his youngest and… quirkiest.” She said the last word in almost a whisper and adjusted her spectacles before shifting to look forward again.
Perhaps, Agrevlari said, because of the seeing device she wears, she believes she would not be an appealing sexual partner, and that is why she has not instigated an engagement with you.
She hasn’t instigated an engagement because she’s mourning, and I’m from the enemy nation.
Shall I bank and tilt her back into you more?
No. Just… take us to her aunt’s farm. She’ll need more time.
The more time this takes, the more dragons your brother may send at you—at us. So that you and the princess may bond over shared struggles and adversity.
Vorik grimaced, remembering Jhiton speaking of exactly that. Would the attacks come daily? More often?
“You don’t seem that quirky,” Vorik offered and brushed his fingers along the side of her neck.
Just in case she turned out to be more receptive than he suspected she would.
Syla didn’t pull away from him but didn’t lean back either.
Would the seeing device be required during mating? Agrevlari wondered.
I’m sure she doesn’t need to wear her spectacles in bed. It’s not like you need to see anything during sex.
I am certain I do not know or wish to know the particulars of the mechanics of human intercourse.
Well, the eyeballs aren’t usually involved. The mouth maybe. Vorik smirked.
You are imagining things I do not desire to see.
If you’re seeing what I’m envisioning, that’s what you get for peering into my thoughts.
Through our link, it is sometimes difficult not to be aware of your thoughts.
Sorry. I’ll try to keep my imaginings involving… mouths to myself.
“I do not trust you, Vorik,” Syla stated, looking forward instead of back at him.
“You’re wise not to,” he offered, not offended.
He was a little amazed she was speaking to him at all and brushed her neck again. To be agreeable and let her know… oh, he didn’t know. That if she changed her mind about being interested, he would also be interested?
The mission and his brother’s plans lurked in the back of his mind.
Vorik sighed, regretting that he had to be anything other than honorable with Syla, but…
his people had worked so long for their chance to gain access to these islands.
And he’d sworn his oath to the Storm Guard and the Sixteen Talons long ago.
He wouldn’t allow himself to do anything but obey his commander’s orders to the best of his abilities.
As Agrevlari banked, flying over a patch of cultivated land divided by irrigation canals, the wind tugged a lock of Syla’s hair free from the frame of her spectacles. Vorik caught it lest it tickle his nose, and his fingers brushed the side of her jaw as he attempted to tuck it back in.
She twisted to look back at him, and he lowered his hand, certain she would let him know she was irritated with all his unnecessary touching.
“Your hair is wayward,” he informed her.
Her eyes narrowed slightly as she regarded him. With suspicion?
“You smell like blackberries,” she said. “Did you smear them on your clothes instead of eating them?”
He almost laughed. When daylight had arrived, he’d noticed the stains the smashed berries had granted his tunic. Fortunately, riders wore dark clothing, so they wouldn’t be that noticeable. What kind of warrior flew into battle with purple blotches all over his shirt?
“I told you I’d collect some for the cobbler. More than the handfuls I gathered earlier. I may have gotten enthusiastic with my gathering.” He didn’t mention that she’d crushed his pockets when he’d caught her.
“I can’t believe half the Royal Protectors were searching for you, and you were foraging for berries.”
“It was only a few men, and I evaded them easily before leaving the tunnels. Only then did I forage.” Vorik cocked his head, reminded that it had been her bodyguard who’d told the troops about him.
Syla hadn’t mentioned him at all. “You’re not the one who sent them after me, are you?
” he asked quietly, though he already knew the answer.
She shrugged, a troubled crease finding her brow, and looked forward again. Maybe she felt she should have sent them?
“Thank you,” he said quietly, wanting to encourage such behavior.
She only shrugged again, but she let herself lean back into his arms. He had a hunch she wasn’t as offended by his touching as she believed she ought to be.
He ought not to take advantage of an attraction her body might feel that went against what her mind wanted, but… he had to keep the mission in mind.
Before he could second-guess himself further, Vorik lowered his lips to the side of her neck, letting them linger, a sensuous touch this time.
He brushed them lightly over her warm skin, hoping she would find it appealing.
Besides, he wanted to show her that he appreciated the choice she’d made back in those tunnels.
It was logical to thank a woman with a kiss, wasn’t it?
Syla grew utterly still, but she didn’t tense or shift away.
Vorik turned the lip brush into a kiss, then trailed his lips lightly along the side of her neck, tasting her, breathing in her scent.
After her night of terror, she smelled of travel and sweat and weary determination rather than the perfumes and soaps he associated with more pampered gardener women.
Again, he regretted that she, through no fault of her own and entirely because of her heritage, was at the center of all this, that she’d been hurt.
Syla shifted her weight. Not away from but toward him.
A surge of excitement swept through him at this confirmation that her body wanted him, even if her mind didn’t, even if she didn’t trust him.
Along with the excitement came arousal, hot blood racing through his veins to his groin as he let himself again notice her appealing weight against him.
Vorik nuzzled her ear, tasting her lobe, taking it gently between his lips and grazing it with his teeth.
A slight gasp escaped her lips, and she turned toward him, her lips parting. To speak? To invite a kiss?
She might not trust him, but if she was attracted to him… that was a start.
As he’d been wanting to do earlier, Vorik let his grip around her tighten, pulling her closer to him, molding her soft curves to his hard—
That is the farm you desire to visit, is it not? Agrevlari asked, the words for both of them.
Irritation flashed in Vorik. Now, the dragon stopped meandering and banking about the area?
“Yes,” Syla blurted with relief.
She pulled away from Vorik and shifted forward, almost scooting up the dragon’s back to put space between them.
Vorik sighed and resisted the urge to pull her close again.
She pointedly didn’t look back at him, and he suspected she thought she’d made a mistake in allowing that intimacy, however appealing she might have found it.
He’d certainly enjoyed it and wished he had indeed told Agrevlari to delay. A longer flight might have led to…
What, Vorik?
He lifted his eyes skyward as the dragon descended toward croplands surrounding a dwelling, a bunkhouse, multiple barns and storage buildings, and two silos.
Certain that Syla had no intention of leading him to a bed in one of those buildings when they landed, Vorik blew out a slow breath. He needed to tamp down his arousal.
Besides, as he’d been thinking earlier, his brother might send more troops at any point. Vorik needed to be ready. Who knew how many times the general believed Vorik would have to fight off enemies to prove to Syla that he was on her side?
He rubbed his face as Agrevlari spread his wings to land in a field, chilled by the memory of the word traitor.
It had all been a ruse, one that those men had known and that he’d known, but it had bothered him nonetheless, the mere suggestion that he might ever betray his people. It would not happen.