Chapter 34 Theron
THERON
I find a small hollow beneath an overhanging tree, the ground thick with soft green moss that rises like a natural bed. It’ll have to do.
Carefully, I lower her down, being sure not to bump her head.
“Stay with me,” I murmur, brushing wet hair from her face. “You’re all right. I’ve got you, baby. Just stay with me.”
I force myself to move quickly—fear driving me despite my weariness.
I need branches—dry ones if I can find them. Kindling—anything that will catch.
My hands are clumsy with cold and exhaustion, but I manage to gather enough, stacking it in a rough pile nearby. Then I draw on my Drake—just enough—and exhale a small gout of flame.
The fire catches and flames lick up the dry kindling, starting a small blaze.
Relief floods me, sharp and immediate. Good—it’s a start.
I turn back to Elowen. I need to warm her up—otherwise she’ll freeze to death.
Her clothes are soaked through—clinging and heavy—leeching what little warmth she has left. I hesitate only for a second before I begin to strip them away, working quickly and efficiently.
This isn’t about anything except survival. I have to get her warm to save her and that means I have to get her naked first.
I strip off her robe, her underlayers—all of it.
I lay them out near the fire, spreading them across the moss so they can begin to dry.
Then I strip off my own clothes as well. They’re just as soaked, just as useless for warming her. We need to be skin-to-skin for me to warm her effectively.
The air is cold against my bare flesh, but I barely feel it—I’m totally focused on my curvy little priestess, who’s still lying there on the moss, cold and still and barely breathing.
Positioning us so the fire is at her back, I gather her into my arms again. I pull her against me, pressing her body to mine as I begin to rub warmth back into her skin—her arms, her shoulders, her back.
“Come on,” I murmur. “Come on, little one. Come back to me.”
Her skin is like ice which fucking terrifies me.
I rub harder, brisk strokes, trying to generate heat, trying to bring color back into her pale flesh.
I keep her close, my body shielding hers from the chill, sharing what warmth I can.
My Drake helps, pushing the heat of his fire into my skin until I’m like a fucking oven.
“Breathe,” I whisper to Elowen. “That’s it. Just breathe.”
For a long moment, nothing happens and I’m afraid it’s too late—that she’s too close to death’s doorway and she’s going to slip through it even though I’m holding her in my arms, trying to pull her back.
Then, like a gift from the Goddess herself, I feel her stirring. A faint sound escapes her lips—something between a sigh and a moan—and relief crashes through me.
“Elowen,” I breathe, her name like a prayer on my lips. “Elowen, come back to me.”
Her long lashes flutter and her eyes open slowly, unfocused at first, then finding me.
“Wh-what…?” Her voice is barely more than a whisper, her teeth chattering. “Wh-what h-h-happened? Where am I?”
“The Sacred River,” I tell her, brushing her hair back gently. “It got angry when you took the water. Washed us both away.” I swallow hard, my throat tight. “I thought I’d lost you, little one.”
The words come out rough, heavier than I’d intended. Just thinking it again—thinking of her disappearing beneath that water—makes something twist painfully in my chest.
“I’m s-so c-c-cold,” she whispers, shivering violently now. “Why am I nuh-naked?”
“Your robes were drenched,” I say, nodding toward where they’re spread near the fire. “They’re drying. I’m just trying to warm you up.”
She shifts slightly, becoming more aware, and her gaze flickers down between us to where our bodies are pressed together.
“B-but you’re n-naked too,” she protests weakly.
“I know,” I say gruffly. “Can’t be helped. We’re just going to have to wait until everything dries and you warm up enough not to freeze to fucking death.”
I adjust my hold on her, pulling her closer, making sure she’s fully pressed against me. I understand why she’s worried and I want to make her feel safe with me.
“Just let me warm you up,” I murmur. “No funny business—I promise. Just…trying to keep you safe. Okay, baby?”
She nods faintly, apparently too cold to argue, and I wrap my arms more securely around her.
“Good girl,” I murmur. “Just relax—I’ve got you.”
Her body fits against mine too well. She’s so soft and now that some heat is returning to her skin, it’s no longer like holding a corpse—thank the Goddess. My curvy little priestess feels alive against me—alive and extremely tempting.
I can feel the curve of her breasts against my chest…the line of her hips pressed to mine…the way she instinctively curls closer, seeking warmth. I can even feel the curls of her soft little pussy mound pressed against my shaft.
I grit my teeth and try to ignore how good she feels against me. I swore—to her and myself—that I was just going to warm her up. I’m not going to do anything else—not going to let myself react to her nakedness in my arms.
But my body doesn’t seem to care about timing or circumstance. Now that the fear has eased—now that I know she’s alive, that she’s breathing, that I didn’t lose her—something else rises in its place—something just as dangerous.
I clench my jaw, focusing on the rhythm of my hands as I rub warmth into her back and shoulders, trying to ignore the way my body is reacting…trying to ignore the slow, inevitable hardening I can’t quite stop.
This isn’t about that, I tell myself sternly. This is about keeping her alive.
“Stay with me,” I murmur again, more to myself than to her this time. “Focus.”
But all I can think about his how good she feels in my arms…and how badly I want to do more than just warm her up.