Oath of the Alpha - Eva Dresden Page 0,78

his scent. Guiding her leg over both of his, he began to roll onto his back. He enjoyed having Aida on top of him, her little legs spread so wide as she bounced in feral abandon.

Aida’s hands were at his waist, tugging at his pants. Urgent fingers tried to free him, though each movement was weaker than the one before. Er’it needed to stop her, but as she circled her hips in a teasing dance, he was helpless.

Until someone cleared their throat at their door. A violent fit of coughing followed when Aida whined at Er’it’s pause.

“What is it?” Er’it barked, somehow having forgotten what a weak barrier the canvas was to her moans. He’d become cautious since their time in the woods alone. He did not want to share even the slightest of her whimpers and would spend what little power he’d regained in a day to build a buffer of silence around the tent when she succumbed to his questing touches.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty, but the Elders would speak with you,” Ath’asho said, the robust growl painting his words telling a long story of lost patience with these people.

“Stay,” Aida murmured, lips traversing his throat to place heated kisses against his shoulder. “Stay with me.”

“Rest more, kou’vera. I will find you food.” Er’it gripped her nape hard, tugging Aida’s face up before she could torment him with that tongue of hers any further. Crushing a fierce kiss against her lips, he tumbled her aside with as much gentleness as he could muster. It was not much, not as the smell of her intoxicated him as it had in the quiet glen or during those first moments in the dark castle.

Er’it crawled from beneath the covers in an attempt to not disrupt Aida further, a barrage of curses at these Elders blistering his tongue as he shoved his worn trousers down. The loss of Aida’s warmth was nothing compared to stripping away the thickness of her scent clinging to him as he swiped a cold cloth over his chest and neck in an attempt to restore some order to his appearance. Tugging on fresh clothes, he shoved aside the tent flap to find what had driven his general to disturb him.

The six haggard men and women who claimed leadership of the village stood in a tight pack far back from the tent. Two soldiers kept them there, much to their dismay, as they tried to push forward when Er’it came into the late afternoon sunlight. Still pale and cold during this season, it struggled in vain to warm its inhabitants.

“They wish an audience to discuss the Lady Aida,” Ath’asho murmured as he leaned in, lips scarce moving with his words.

“What of her?” Power surged through him. It was not the syrup-thick crimson of the blood but the quicksilver flash of fire—the one he was born to, the one he’d denied all his life. It trembled at his fingertips, the golden glow of it a subtle light that begged to be released.

“They wish to inquire as to her wellbeing and if she is healed enough for travel. They offer a stag they hunted in the fields she made. You made? I do not understand this at all, my king.”

“They wish to provide for her?”

“They speak of some tale, Your Majesty. Black mages, an entire people ruined. A land murdered and which prophecy claims will be one day healed by blood of… I do not remember the whole of it, save that they appear to think Lady Aida is the one to deliver them from something evil.”

“You are jesting.”

“I am not.”

Er’it snorted a laugh, his mirth growing fast into a full-bellied laugh that made the Elder’s shift in an uneasy tide. Bunched brows and narrowed eyes met his mocking humor. He couldn’t contain it, slapping his thigh as tears sprung to his eyes while he howled his amusement.

“What is happening?” Aida asked, her disheveled head popping out from behind the tent flap.

Glancing back, Er’it’s eyes widened to find Aida wrapped in nothing more than a blanket, the same one he’d left her buried under when he rose, thick with her scent. Ath’asho gave a loud sniff, his spine snapping to attention before he stomped away several paces, fixing his gaze on the middle distance.

Er’it roared as the Elders shoved past his men, his peripheral vision teeming with unknown males as he shoved Aida back inside the tent. Ignoring her high-pitched shriek as she tumbled back into their makeshift bed, Er’it snatched