Chapter 26 Aura
AURA
Geit, Skalor
Early the next morning, Aura slips on her clothes from the previous day and carefully wraps her curls. With her boots laced, she watches Calder finally slumbering now that the sun has risen.
Sleeping in his muscled arms against his soft chest left her feeling more well-rested than at any time in her life. She smiles to herself as she buckles her cloak around her clavicle.
Everything about Calder has her falling for him.
Hard.
She admits his protective nature, which disguises his more villainous side, is an allure she struggles to deny. At times, the intensity of his gaze seems to transform him into a demon of the Abyss.
Yet, no one has ever made her feel more adored and supported. For this reason, she presses her lips to Calder's and leaves her note beside his head.
She lay awake through the night, struggling with her emotions for him.
Would he betray her like Isabel?
At times, she senses he is concealing something from her.
Then there is the Skalor prophecy.
If she is the one to save the country, then she cannot allow the one person who understands her, whom she yearns to spend every waking moment beside, to come to harm.
As she slips along the quiet corridor of their floor, she gently tests the doors as she passes until one creaks open.
A young man with at least three women piled atop him sleeps soundly in a bed twice the size of theirs. She sneaks inside, rustling through one of his packs until she finds a coin purse.
Thanks, friend.
She smirks as she abandons the inn for the streets of Geit.
If she can reach Viktoft before Calder, she and Edmund can journey to the temple.
Besides, time alone with her feelings toward the Iss Drengr may help her realize this is just lust, a mere infatuation with the older man.
Yes, that is it!
I can move on from the warmth he stirs in my belly and save him from certain death at the hands of my father.
The morning passes quickly. Merchants pay her little to no heed as the revelers of the Autumn Festival emerge from every nook and cranny of the village.
She waits in line to buy food supplies when she overhears snippets of a conversation at the stall next to her.
“...no, hadn’t been seen in weeks. Then comes trudgin’ through town to Svala’s Bakery. King Sigvid was amiable. I wouldn’t have believed it myself had I not seen it.”
“I wonder if he was hit with somethin’ when they attacked his carriage.”
“Hush! Don’t be startin’ rumors…”
“Ma’am? May I help you?” The stall merchant smiles at Aura, gesturing her forward.
The Princess’ mouth dries.
So Father is alive.
She shakes her head, unable to dwell on this now.
After purchasing her supplies, her mind drifts back to home and Treland. She knows she must carve her own path away from her father, releasing the shame she carries for not living up to the standards of Sigvid Thordsson.
I am more than his rage.
Gods, for once, let me channel my mother’s grace.
As she strides toward the stables, she cringes at the disgrace of not experiencing more guilt over the increasing tension between her and Calder.
Considering the blacklist, her age, and his connection to her father.
Yet, after waking in the arms of a man who is risking everything for her, she finally begins to feel the independence she has not realized she craves.
She saddles a smaller, nondescript brown mare, leaving their stolen horse for Calder. The stable boy, uncaring or too busy to notice, moseys in the stalls without a glance.
After stuffing her items in the saddle bags, except a compass and map of Skalor that Argnier helped her perfect, she rides off into the late morning sunlight.
Condemning the Iss Drengr has never been her intention, yet she agonizes over his fate. Perhaps she can save him from being forced to act as a vessel for Makt.
It has been a long time since she put someone else's needs above her own.
She rides hard until the sun dips beneath the sky and deep violet hues paint the horizon.
With her father’s blackwood axe sheathed at her side, she sets up camp along a hot spring not far off the main dirt road and leaves herself enough time to bathe beneath the sunset.
She strips to nothing, bunching yesterday’s foul-smelling clothes in a mass at the base of a tree before dipping into the searing heat that has her moaning.
The steam swirls around her breasts and face, offering a tantalizing warmth.
A chipmunk scurries through the brush, prompting a slight smile from her. The peace and serenity of the woods are something she desperately needed.
She sighs, sinking into the steaming water, and rests her head against the rocky ground.
One day, she might be able to chase her stolen moments with Calder and relish a night of feral lovemaking known only to them. Then, they might tuck it away as a forbidden memory, never to be savored in the light of day.
The snap of a twig stirs her thoughts to the edge of the grove. She opens one eye to her surroundings and sees that even the wildlife has abandoned her.
She peers around, swimming to the opposite edge, and hears footsteps approach her from behind.
“Princess.”
His deep voice scorches her cheeks, and she nearly leaps out of the pool, her hand clutching her fluttering heart. “Gods!” she swears at Calder's sudden, imposing appearance.
How in the Depths did he track me? He was fast asleep when I slipped out this morning.
He towers over the hot springs with his arms folded across his inked chest. Somehow, his arrival in only his black leather trousers and boots has her equal parts terrified and aroused.
She opens her mouth to ask how he found her when she notices a coiled rope hanging from his leather belt.
Aura swallows hard, her heart rate increasing from the initial scare.
When she finally lifts her gaze to his, they find him boring into her soul.
“I see you found my note.” She squirms under his unrestrained expression. His icy gaze tracks her slight movements in the water. “I meant what I said.” She rolls her shoulders back. “You unnecessarily risk your life on this quest, and I need time to determine what we are.”
“You meant to violate your blood oath to me?”
“I…” I didn’t betray him.
Although abandoning him at an inn in the middle of the Crescent Hold is certainly a gray area.
“You pledged fealty even in death to me. Did I permit you to embark on your own?” His words reverberate in the depths of his chest. “Finish your bath, Princess.”
His command warms more than her cheeks.
Should I jump on my horse and ride away? Surely he doesn't intend to restrain me just to drag me to Viktoft?
Why does that arouse me?
As she soaps her breasts with the bar she purchased in town, she catches the tension in his jaw as her hands massage the suds around her nipples.
Don’t push him.
And yet, the thought of driving him mad with lust stirs a wild excitement to finally lose herself to the Iss Drengr.
Gently, she stands up straight in the shallow spring to provide him with a better view of her nakedness.
With slow and methodical movements, she bends to gather water between her palms and rinses the soap suds from her skin. Her fingers linger over her sensitive areas, enticing him with a temptation they both know he shouldn’t accept.
Her hungry gaze finds him as her motions grow rougher, more controlled.
The outline of his thick member grows as she pants, thinking of all the despicable ways he could make good on his threat to defile the Princess.
What is he doing to me?
She watches as the rise and fall of his chest intensifies at the sight of her groping, and she knows that whatever invisible line in the sand he has desperately sought to maintain has surely been crossed.
When she discards the soap and climbs out of the water, she meets him with defiance.
She can no longer dance around her need for him.
Glaring up at him with all the unspoken passion she can muster, she coaxes him to finally seize her and indulge in this yearning.
As the hot water pools at her feet, something much more frigid pierces the autumn air.
“Run.” He growls low.
Has he chosen to dismiss me so casually?
“Run, girl.” He turns to block her from heading to the camp and her horse.
What is happening?
Does he want me to leave and return to Treland?
Or should I simply leave his sight?
She takes a hesitant step backward, which he mirrors. His sturdy boots serve as a reminder that he is more than twice her size.
Every hair on her body stands on end in anticipation. Cold chills chase along her spine yet leave a fire burning in her blood.
He is the apex predator in the forest, and something about his fierce focus unsettles her nerves.
Her gaze drops to the discarded blackwood axe.
Before she can react, his right boot steps on the handle, shaking his head. “Three.”
She treads on a patch of fallen autumn leaves as she approaches the forest.
“Two.”
Oh, gods, what happens when he reaches one?
She decides not to find out and dives into the thicket.
Her bare feet pound through the underbrush.
Thankfully, her winters of wandering the Salt Province without shoes will finally yield some benefit, even though the air still bites at her wet skin.
She doesn’t spare a glance over her shoulder.
A current courses through her veins, urging her onward, while part of her wishes to offer herself to him as a full-course meal.
The rustling of leaves at her back has her checking over her shoulder just in time to see a black shadow shift behind a tree.
When she finally halts to catch her breath, concealed behind a massive boulder, only the rising moonlight shines as her guide. She looks around each side once her heart returns to a normal beat.
No sight of him.
She nibbles her bottom lip at the ominous sensation curling in her stomach.
What does he plan to accomplish?
Will he capture her and drag her to the Southern Handle as a prisoner?
Or will he consummate their budding affair?
She leans her back against the smooth stone when a faint snap of a twig stops her breath.