56. Rorax
“You’ve got to be shitting me.” Rorax shook her head, looking panicked at Milla, Ayres, Piers, and Cannon in turn. Kaiya and Jia were in the library for their evening shift.
The corner of Ayres’s mouth twitched as he bent down to tie his boot. “We’re not.”
“Sharks,” Rorax said in disbelief. “You’re telling me the next trial involves sharks?”
“It won’t be as bad as you’re imagining it,” Milla said, trying unsuccessfully to console her as Rorax ran the bloodiest possibilities possible through her mind.
Ayres”s smug little smirk grew wider. “Why? Are you scared, Pup?”
She scowled at him, hating the way the nickname grated on her nerves even more when he was the one saying it. “Yes. The trial takes place in the Cracked Sea. Did you know that the Cracked Sea is the most dangerous body of water on the continent?”
Ayres nodded.
“Well, it’s not because those sharks like to cuddle.”
Cannon snickered, but Ayres full on laughed at her, making Rorax daydream about kicking him in the ass while he was crouched over tying up his boots.
“I should just wear a giant chum bucket to the next trial, to make it easier for them. It’ll be a faster death that way,” Rorax grumbled looking up into the sky.
Cannon snapped his fingers to get her attention. You”ll be fine. The sharks are aggressive in the bay, but they will go after the least threatening meal. Use your knife to spill some shark blood and they’ll back off. They can smell blood in the water, but don’t like it if it’s their own.
Some of her tension drained away.
“I vote for the chum bucket idea,” Ayres muttered, grinning as he unfolded his huge body to stand. He stared down at her with a small twinkle in his dark charcoal eyes. “But if you’re not up for that, Cannon is right. You’ll be fine.”
She gave him a glare, telling him he wasn”tfunny. “When is the trial?”
Cannon’s fingers flew. It’s in three weeks. We need to train a few days a week until then in the lake. I want you to be able to defend yourself while treading water.
Rorax cracked her neck, signing back, Let’s do this.
It had been five days since the trial with the trolls. Even though she hadn’t been able to move much, they were still eventful days. Rorax had been bound for the first two, but on the third day she’d received her first-ever suit of heavy armor. It was mostly a plain sheet of silversteel molded to her measurements, the only decoration was the House of Death’s crest in goldsteel welded to the chest. It had been sunny when she got it, and Tressa had approved of allowing her to try it on and walk outside as long as she didn’t pull any of her stitches. Cannon had her walk slowly around the arena until she’d collapsed, exhausted from her wounds, into a small patch of dandelions.
On the fourth day, the Black Salt box from Surmalinn arrived. The box was the same size as a wooden shoe box, but the inside was made entirely out of tiny black bricks. The outside was wrapped in polished goldsteel with square blue emeralds scattered over the top. Milla held the box out to her, and Rorax forced herself to put Glimr inside. “We decided that Ayres will keep it in his room to keep it safe. We will give it back for the trials that you might need it.”
That morning, Rorax had been released from her healing restrictions by Tressa after another long and awkward healing session. Tressa’s hatred for Rorax was palpable in the air. Rorax had gone to her usual library shift in the afternoon, and now they stood in the Contestars” Courtyard for the evening training session with Lamonte and his men.
Ayres and Rorax had started off sparring and, like usual, the lieutenant humbled her. She didn’t understand how one could be so fast and so burly—only possible by centuries of training and perfect technique that Rorax simply didn’t have yet. Training with Ayres without Glimr sometimes made her feel young and inexperienced in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. It exposed holes in her training that was impossible to see without Glimr bridging the gap. She had learned that Ayres had fought in the War of the Slaves, and most likely others and Rorax wanted to absorb all the experience and knowledge that he and Cannon could possibly give her.
During a break, Rorax closed her eyes to keep them safely away from Ayres and felt the warm summer breeze kiss her skin, enjoying the low hum of the others training, when one of the doors to the courtyard slammed open.
Rorax’s eyes popped open as they all turned to look at Narlaroca stalking through the doors.
Ayres, Milla, Piers, and Cannon shifted closer to Rorax as Narlaroca pulled a knife from her belt, her anger palpable even from thirty feet away.
Narlaroca didn’t pay Rorax or anyone else any attention; she remained focused on one thing, one person, and one purpose.
With angry, purposeful steps she walked right over to where Serena sparred with Captain Lamonte.
Unease tickled in Rorax’s chest. Serena had killed Narlaroca’s lover in the Tournament of Houses, and Narlaroca was here for blood.
Rorax watched in horror as Narlaroca ducked under Captain Lamonte’s practice blade, pushed him back with a hand to his chest, and turned to Serena to viciously stab her in the heart.
Serena stared horrified at Narlaroca before sinking to her knees, her fingers fluttering uselessly around the knife in her chest as blood dribbled from her mouth.
Narlaroca grabbed Serena’s bloody chin and lifted her face up. “You killed my mate, and for that you will not live to see another day.”
Serena’s eyes went wide right before her body slumped to the ground.
Lamonte ripped Narlaroca back a few steps, away from the body, and the courtyard descended into chaos. Shocked gasps and screams echoed, and the soldiers surrounding the courtyard rushed for Narlaroca.
A burst of flames erupted into the sky as Isgra’s influx punched through her, and House of Ice soldiers worked double time to keep the stray blazes away from the other Contestars.
Rorax saw a burst of light magick, some water, and another burst of fire before the influx hit Rorax so hard she took a staggering step back.
A hot wave of aggression and anger filled her to the brim, and Rorax wanted more. More power. More anger. More blood. A familiar red film covered her eyes, and Rorax gritted her teeth. “Ayres. Milla. An influx,” she hissed from between clenched teeth.
Rorax’s blood sang in her veins as her eyes locked on Briar from across the courtyard, a bloodthirsty grin creeping across her lips. Briar was easy prey. She didn’t have Glimr to use, but she had other knives that would work just as well.
“Fuck,” Ayres bit out next to her.
Rorax took one step toward Briar and was just pulling a knife out of the back of her belt when Ayres’s body slammed into her so hard, she went flying backwards onto the cobblestones.
She landed on her back, and he followed her to the ground, landing on top of her.
Rorax gave an unflattering grunt and immediately started fighting to push him off her, but Ayres fought just as hard to stay perched where he was.
“I’ve got her, Milla, keep everyone else away.” Ayres shouted from over his shoulder as he snatched both of Rorax’s hands that were trying to puncture his skin with one huge hand and pinned them above her head. He used his other arm to push down on her abdomen, effectively trapping her knives under her.
“Got it,” Milla called, as she, Piers, and Cannon all fanned out protectively around them.
Rorax snapped her teeth up at Ayres’s face. “Get off of me, you fucking bastard.”
Ayres’s lip curled over his teeth, and he pressed his arm harder to her stomach. “We can’t let you kill her, or you’ll die, you broody fuck.”
The anger in her blood flashed to a boiling point. “Don’t tell me what to do, you useless mongrel.”
She bucked her hips, twisted, heaved, doing anything to try and use her feet, to move him even just a few inches, but he didn”t budge. She snapped her teeth up at him again, getting closer to his face than before.
“Mother fucker,” he hissed, jerking his head back a bit to avoid her teeth.
The movement of his upper body forced his lower body into her a little harder, and with one tiny scrape of fabric against her core, everything changed.
She stopped fighting under him, panting heavily, staring up at him with wide eyes. The anger, hatred, bloodlust, and aggression of the influx in her soul changed, and suddenly it barreled into a different vein, evolving into something else that she couldn’t stop. Hot need and electricity thrummed through her so hard she gasped.
“Are you done?” Ayres growled down at her.
He pressed his arm tighter against her lower belly, and she could swear it felt like he was putting pressure directly on her womb. Her core gave a needy throb. He felt so good, her back arched off the cobblestones to press harder intohim.
Ayres, reading her movement as another escape attempt, pressed his body even more tightly against hers, trying to keep her contained, but this time the metal ridge of his belt nudged against her most private place, and so close to her clit and right where she wanted him.
Rorax whimpered. Loudly. Gods, she needed more.
Her cheeks started to burn, but before she could stop herself, she rolled her hips against his and this time he read the movement as it was. Needy.
Ayres turned into a statue above her.
She rolled her hips again, but this time her clit hit directly against his belt buckle, and she moaned. Heat and pleasure raced through her nerves, making her nipples hard and her heart beat faster. It wasn’t enough, not nearly enough through her clothes, but it was just enough that she did it again.
She let out a soft, involuntary noise, and indecision darkened his eyes as they shifted from their usual charcoal gray to liquid silver, dropping from her eyes down to her lips. She could see the want there, the hunger, but she could also see the indecision and she wanted it gone.
“Ayres,” she breathed.
“Fuck,” he snapped as she wriggled underneath him.
She wanted his hands all over her body.
“What the fuck is going on?” Ayres hissed.
The throaty sound of his voice permeated through her skin, and she couldn’t help it . . . she couldn’t stop it. Her spine arched off the ground in reaction to his voice. Her breasts brushed his chest, and she wanted more. She wanted to feel her skin against his.
She groaned with raw lust and need, closed her eyes, and groaned again.
“Rorax,” Ayres warned with a low growl.
Rorax rubbed her still clothed core against his hips again. This time she felt his long, hard length under the leather of his pants against her before he jerked his hips away.
She whimpered in dismay. “Ayres, I need it, please.”
Ayres closed his eyes and took in a deep, steadying breath.
Rorax wriggled under him, but he was out of reach everywhere she needed him. “Ayres.”
Ayres opened his eyes slowly, his irises a simmering silver. He chuckled, low and dark, as he bowed his head to run his lips slowly from her chin to her ear. “Beg for it again.”
Rorax stared into his eyes, wide and pleading, to make sure he was listening. “Touch me.”
“I want my name. The next words out of your pretty lips will be my name or I’ll fill your throat with my cock. Beg for me again, Little Crow.”
He lowered his head back down to her neck, biting his teeth into her throat hard enough to hurt.
Electricity shot straight from her nipples over her belly button to her core where even more need and wetness bloomed. She was out of control and on fire and she needed more. “Ayres, fuck Ayres, please.”
“Please what?”
“Kiss me.”
He did. He moved his hand up where it had been pressing against her hips, wrapped his fist in her hair, and crushed his mouth to hers. Every single cell in her body seemed to sing with pleasure and relief as the influx coiled around her body. She whimpered into his mouth.
The influx in her blood wanted more from him. More skin, more heat, more pain, more pleasure. She wanted everything from him.
Rorax bit his lip urgently, and it was like they’d been set on fire. He bruised her lips as his tongue battled with hers. He dropped his hips into hers fully and rolled his hard length against where she wanted him the most. It caused her to respond, her back arching into him again.
He used his free hand to slide up her leathers to right below her breast.
Rorax bit her lip and tried to angle her hips up to his again, to get his cock against her once more. “Ayres—”
“Gods above, are you two dry humping?” someone above them muttered.
Ayres snapped his head back away from Rorax’s and stared down at her in disbelief.
The influx’s hold on Rorax snapped. The red mist that had covered her vision dissipated, but her face burst into a kaleidoscope of embarrassed pinks as she stared back at Ayres with round, mortified eyes. “Oh, my gods. I . . . I am so sorry.”
The other Contestars were settling down, too. There wasn’t any rogue magick flying anywhere and no one was yelling or screaming anymore. Only Mo still seemed to be struggling against her Protectorates.
Ayres”s shock dissolved into a smug, shit-eating grin. “Don’t be, Little Crow.”
He released her wrists and pushed himself up off her in one graceful move, and she scrambled up.
Milla looked like she wanted to burst out laughing. “What just happened?”
“I . . . I . . .” Rorax swallowed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I was influxing, but then . . . when he . . . I . . . it was . . . I was on fire, it was all I could think about.”
“What was all you could think about, Rorax?” Milla asked, tilting her head, her smile getting even bigger.
“I think my belt scraped against her in a way that made her influx turn into lust.” Ayres stated matter-of-factly, his voice still rough as he looked Rorax up and down slowly. The look of hatred and mistrust from the last influx was gone, it had been replaced by something hot and hungry, and even though Rorax was mortified, she was also relieved.
Ayres grabbed Rorax’s wrist. “We will be back,” he told Milla, Cannon and his men, before pulling her away and dragging her into the corridor that was right off the Contestars” Courtyard.
It was deserted, and as soon as the heavy wooden door closed behind them, Rorax tugged free of his grasp. “Ayres, gods, I swear I didn’t mean to attack you.”
Rorax rubbed her hands over her face, her cheeks hot with embarrassment.
“I’m glad you did.”
That was unexpected. Rorax’s head snapped up out of her hands. “What?”
Ayres”s face was serious, even clinical, as he studied her. “When this happens again, if we can use lust to quell it, we’re going to. I would rather touch you than have you throwing knives at the other Contestars; or worse, me and my people. If that’s okay with you.”
Embarrassment and the lingering trace of heat clogged Rorax’s throat. But something else made her hesitate, too. Something like . . . guilt as Rorax thought of Raengar. Nothing sexual had ever happened between them but she had always wanted it to, had always thought it would. Would he care when he found out about Ayres touching her? Kissing her?
This arrangement could potentially save people’s lives, and Raengar wasn’t here to help her with it. She only had Ayres.
Rorax didn’t know what to say, so she simply nodded.
“Red is your safe word, for when you snap out of your influxes and you want us to stop,” Ayres said.
Rorax nodded again, as she rubbed the back of her neck, her eyes falling to the carpet feeling confused and guilty.
“Rorax, look at me.” His voice was low and serious, and maybe a little unsure, but not angry or disgusted so she tentatively raised her eyes to his.
“You did well today, telling us when the influx started. We will get through this, okay?” His eyes were warm and charcoal. Safe.
Rorax felt a small smile pull her lips up. “Okay.”