Chapter 7
Seven
ASHLAND
The double silhouettes of two nude figures slink from my bed as they grab their clothes from the floor.
A rumbling groan escapes me as I glimpse the top of their perfectly round bottoms. The giggling women duck under my arm and exit through the bedchamber doorframe I lean on.
I watch as they scurry off half-dressed, clutching their dresses to their chests as they trail a floral scent behind them.
So close.
Narrowing my eyes at the cause of their departure, I accuse, “You scared them away.”
“Sure it was me?” Valora asks, a smirk on her dark features as she stands in her warrior leathers, despite the late hour. “I saw those girls training with Stormwatch today. They were betting on who would last the longest in your chambers.”
A muscle twitches in my jaw.
A bet?
“They received twenty additional laps down the beach because they wouldn’t stop arguing about whether the Witch-King used his shadow powers erotically with his bedmates.
I refuse to picture what you used to do with my sister.
So I figured if they couldn’t breathe, they couldn’t talk—and that solved that. ”
The twitch moves to my eyelid.
Taking the verbal punches, I refrain from offering a rebuttal, which would have included recounting how the two had just fought over who would open her throat first. But I keep my mouth shut. Instead, I let out a resigned sigh. “Why are you here?”
“We just received an update from Alexandria.” She pauses, an oddly cruel yet satisfied glint growing in her eyes. “The king is ill, though he tries to hide it.”
“Alert the other generals.” I head back into my chambers to ready myself. “Now.”