Oath of the Alpha - Eva Dresden Page 0,31

impossible. Those trousers leave little to the imagination, and your tunic is showing more than it hides.”

“I lost the daggers,” Aida said with a whine, wishing more than anything she knew enough of the woods to have doubled back to find the lost articles. The daggers had been taken by Rhyn, and she’d lost Marilsa’s food and waterskin in her mad dash away from the thing that had hunted her down through the woods.

“They gave you blades? Interesting.”

“No, I stole yours and Marilsa had one for her food.”

“What?”

“Rhyn saw me steal yours and took it away so I couldn’t kill myself. When Marilsa died, I thought I should keep at least one, just in case. Nothing went as I planned it, though.” Brow furrowing, she glanced up as the silence stretched and was startled at the venomous set of Er’it’s hard features seconds before he wrapped his hands around her throat.

“You did what?” he demanded in a roar, shaking her hard enough to make her teeth snap together as he tightened his grip. Choking her by degrees, he shouted at her in a language she had no hope of understanding.

“I’m sorry I lost it,” Aida croaked out, holding his wrist as tight as she could. His unfettered anger could end it here and now if she did nothing. Knowing that and allowing it were two separate things, though, and as her lungs began to burn in earnest, Aida started to struggle. Clawing at his arm, ragged welts appeared through the tears in his shirt. Kicking at him, she choked on the first sip of air when he let go and bellowed as he fell backward.

Still sputtering on each breath, she scrambled to his side. Ignoring Kal as he rumbled and groaned over them, she put her hands around the arrow in Er’it’s thigh and pressed hard to stop the blood that now surged.

“Are you trying to injure me further?” Er’it demanded through a hoarse growl, tugging her hands away. “I don’t give a damn about the dagger, you idiotic woman.”

“Oh… I… I don’t understand you when…” Aida trailed off and sat down hard on her heels. Lips puckering downwards as she swiped her bloody palms over the legs of her trousers, some twisted part of her wanted to laugh at the very idea of understanding him at all. She didn’t comprehend the way he made her feel, the way her body reacted to his, let alone his exotic tongue.

“Stay here.” Getting to his feet with a grunt, Er’it wandered a little way into the trees. Remaining well within sight, he kept looking back to Aida, assuring she did as she was told and remained right where he had left her. Sorting through the forest duff for dry bits of twig and leaf, he returned a short while later with the makings for a fire, small though it would be. Another slow walk in a semicircle around Aida yielded flint and stone. Arranging it all, he did not set it alight, instead going back to find more fallen branches and small limbs.

Er’it fell hard when he went to sit against a tree near her, the taut lines of his features in sharp relief as deeper furrows etched the tender skin around narrowed eyes and strained lips. Again, he flexed his hand, a rough shake bringing a hiss between clenched teeth. Something too close to concern clouded the gleam of his amber gaze when he glanced at Aida once more. Pulling the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth to worry at the stinging flesh, she found she couldn’t meet his eyes for long. If by some ridiculous turn of events he became afraid of something, Aida knew there was no hope for her.

As they sat in silence, each tangled up in their own thoughts, dusk began to approach. Er’it struck the flint, sparks spraying over the crumbled dust of leaves without a flame catching. Once, twice, the third time yielded the same lackluster result.

“Come here,” Er’it said through a growl, slapping the flint and stone in Aida’s palm after snatching her hand. “Hold it firm. Aim it at the kindling.”

Swallowing hard as she saw his grip falter in his injured arm, Aida moved closer to the pile of fluff and leaves at her knees. Squinting with concentration, she performed the same motion she’d seen dozens of times now.

She didn’t even get a spark. Huffing, she edged closer, angling the stone again to strike at the flint. A faint glimmer, gone