chest, the thing digging deeper into her soul with every breath… Aida couldn’t imagine it.
Er’it grunted, continuing to play with her hair. Curling the strands around his fingers, he gave the lock a soft tug before dipping his chin to nod at a chest off in the shadows. “Get us fresh clothing.”
Aida gritted her teeth, inhaling hard through her nose as she shifted her weight to clamber to her feet. She startled when Er’it came to stand before her, grasping her hands to pull Aida to her feet. With a gentle nudge given to her shoulder toward the chest, he left the tent without another word.
“Insane,” Aida whispered to the empty air as she opened the chest, frowning down at the array of loose tunics and embroidered coats, nothing except his long trousers and heavy belts hidden beneath them. Casting about for some sign of her trunk, she couldn’t find it among the loose piles. Not a single gown or skirt was to be found in her search.
“What does he expect me to wear?” Aida demanded of the chest in a quiet hiss, refusing to give into the urge to stamp her foot in frustration.
“Those,” Er’it said, leaning over Aida. Forcing her to bend beneath the press of his chest against her back, he plucked out a tunic of a much different style than she often saw him wear.
Boxy and somewhat shapeless, the wide sleeves and straight cuts would leave her swimming in fabric. Er’it seemed not to care, grabbing his usual garb for himself. Bundling the lot and shoving it into Aida’s arms, he took her shoulder in hand and pushed her ahead of him out of the tent.
It did not escape Aida’s notice that he found reason to touch her shoulder where his bite lay, or that he traced the edge of the tunic’s torn collar, fingers skimming over the ragged wound. Guiding her through the sparse trees around the narrow clearing the soldiers built the camp in, Er’it came closer with every step. Broad chest skimming her back by the time they reached a patch of thicker brush, he used his body to crowd Aida toward a mere trickle of water, a mockery of a stream with so little substance to it.
Beside the small rivulet sat a stack of dry kindling and cordwood, bowls, and a blackened pot on a pot hanger over a cleared patch of dirt. Forehead creasing the closer they came, Aida slowed her steps, letting Er’it press against her as she attempted to delay their arrival to this new place.
“What is it that makes you tremble so?” Er’it whispered against her temple. Hunching over Aida as his arms came around her, he lifted her to him as he kept them moving.
“What you will do to me here.” Though she might not understand why he would hide away his treatment of her from his people when he never had before, Aida was certain she would not like what happened in the shadowy space.
“Ah, yes. The cruelest of tortures, I’m sure,” Er’it murmured, a raspy chuckle grating against Aida’s skin as he pressed his lips to her neck.
“Now you mock me?”
“Only when you are being foolish.”
Er’it abandoned her beside the water, the sighing hiss of it tumbling through fallen leaves and worn earth a turbulent undercurrent to the disarray of her emotions. Too large a part of her wanted to press against him, to feel his heat again as it fled her skin in the cool night air. But an equal measure of her heart refused to be injured at his whim by moving at all.
As if he sensed her indecision, Er’it reached for her with a gentle circling of her wrist, a faint tug of her arm pulling her toward the stacked wood. He dropped to his knees, nodding at the space beside him for her to do the same. Single brow rising when she refused, Er’it shook his head and gave her arm another yank. Though not hard enough to wrench her arm, it still brought Aida down to her knees, tumbling her against his side before she could crash face down into the ground.
“Pay attention.” Brusque and cool, Er’it turned his attention to the kindling he began to place within a ring of stones Aida hadn’t noticed before.
A simple fire. Why, then, did he force her to come out here to build it when several burned within his camp? Aida plopped back on her heels, heaving a weary sigh as she cast