water to make their way to the bank and beyond where fresh clothing had been left for them. Snatching up the rough cloth to dry them before she could fetch it, he buffed her skin dry then applied the damp cloth to his body. Helping her dress an amusing feat, he wound the soft belt around her waist three times before it stopped dragging the ground. The tunic he’d chosen for her long enough to brush her ankles, he still opted for her to wear the loose breeches beneath. The long slits up the sides would bare too much of her well-turned thighs for his comfort, but an idea began to form. Something she’d said during their time alone in the glen came to him as he tugged on the snug trousers and tunic he favored for himself.
“Come,” Er’it said, some perverse urge leading him to tuck his arm beneath hers so that her hand rested upon the back of his. A formal gesture used within the courts he’d not visited in an age, he used it now to guide her toward the road.
Upon seeing Tor’en’s sly smile, the first thing he saw as they came out of the trees, Er’it lifted his lip in a silent snarl, one he took care not to let Aida see. Turning her toward the lean-to the soldiers had erected for them, he noticed more food laid out on trays. Someone had managed to catch a brace of rabbits while they’d bathed. Er’it had no plans to stay their travel for so long, but Aida needed it. Even now, her feet hissed over the ground as she shuffled, and she leaned into him as he came alongside her.
Helping her to sit among the thick cushions, he brushed his knuckles over her cheek at her quiet sigh. Though the smile he returned was small, she seemed to glow in response. The tiniest fragment of care and his little Omega shone as the sun. Lips turning down, Er’it nudged the silvered platters toward Aida, giving a nod of silent demand.
Rising without a word, Er’it headed toward his milling men. Speaking to them in low tones, he reassured them all was well and they would be safe now. What they didn’t know was that Tor’en would try to teach her some control to keep them that way—small, basic commands of magic they hoped would prevent her from destroying them all on a whim. Er’it’s part in this was to ensure she remained just exhausted enough to keep her power in check as they continued on.
They would travel the forgotten road to its end, find the place of her birth. There, he would end this, whatever it was.
Ignoring the clenched fists wringing his heart, Er’it made his way to the tight knot of mages. Bent heads close, they murmured amongst themselves. He only caught mere snippets of the whispers before they noticed him, but they were more than enough. They feared Aida, feared his lack of control. This was not what any of them signed on for.
“What has your face so dour?” Tor’en asked as he stepped between Er’it and the other mages, a simple step forward and a brush of his hand guiding Er’it well away from his wide-eyed people.
“Much to do, not enough time to do it in.” Er’it crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze finding an unerring path to Aida and watching her try to eat with some decorum despite how much she still hungered. Her restless shifting brought his attention to the others staring at her, their distrust and fear tainting the air. Putting him on edge, the foul sensation worked through his clenched jaw to make it ache.
“You need to restore your strength as well, boy. Go, eat with her. Show them there is naught to fear.”
“There is much to fear, Tor’en. She cannot control any of it. One more emotional outburst and she could level this forest.”
“She’ll not do that,” Tor’en said in a thoughtful hum, glancing from the forgery of verdant growth to Aida. “You never miss anything, so tell me what of that concerns you so?”
“How could she do what should have taken dozens of mages to make right?” Er’it asked in a low hiss. Giving the sight of Aida looking so small and alone his back, he tried to focus on the issue at hand instead of the urge to go to her and wrap her in his arms.
“The books—”
“Have been wrong all this time!”
“Mayhap they only