against the wall, heaving a sigh of relief.
“You’re going to be walking bow-legged by the time he lets you out,” Sorgenfreiya calls through the doorflap helpfully.
“Are you kidding?” Dunnah laughs. “Did you see the size of that club he’s swinging? She’ll be lucky if he doesn’t split her in two, let alone if she’ll be walking anywhere after he’s done with her.”
My eyes close. “Turn deaf ears on them,” I huff. “All of them are absolute perverts.”
“And proud of it!” Sorgenfreiya cackles on the other side of the flap before she finally leaves.
The graze of Halki’s knuckle over the apple of my cheek has my eyes flying back open.
“I can close my ears to them,” he rumbles. “Especially when I only have eyes for you.” He drops to one knee, wraps his arms around my thighs, and tosses me over one of his thickly muscled shoulders.
I might have shrieked, if I’d had the oxygen. But the wind is knocked out of me the moment I get banged over this surprisingly hard part of him. There is no padding to his shoulder; not an ounce of forgiving fat to cushion his rock-hard muscle.
He marches us to my bench that serves as lodge seating and my bed platform. Without ceremony, he drops me onto it, and I do my best to ignore my proximity to his vomited brick, which is so close, it’s nearly brushing against my leg.
“We shall sleep,” he orders.
I exhale in a rush.
I begin unwrapping my boots, a process Halki finds fascinating. I unplait my hair and generally get comfortable while staying as dressed as possible. Then I scoot under the blankets on my bench.
Halki frowns—not at me, but the bench he expects to share. “Too small,” he mutters to himself, raising his head and taking an imperious look at the lodgehouse’s contents. What remains of them after a zany dragon all but hollowed it out, that is.
He stalks over (so naked, everything swings) to someone else’s bench and appropriates it, lifting it like it isn’t made of heavy planks of timber. But when he sets it down against mine, he isn’t satisfied.
He grunts at it. “No bedding.”
“We have mine—”
“Not enough,” he declares firmly.
I widen my eyes at him. “How much do you need?”
“We need a most comfortable nest.” He prowls to the door and draws the flap back, glowering when he receives whistles and rowdy shouts.
The gawkers are enjoying his frontal show probably as much as I’m appreciating my view of his behind.
“We require bedding,” he informs them stonily.
“I volunteer!” several voices shout.
“I’ll bed you anytime,” comes another offer.
“Blankets. We need blankets,” Halki clarifies with a glare, crossing his arms over his chest—which only accentuates the thrust of his hips and the placement of his wide-set feet. His back muscles tighten too, and I’m struck dumb and drool a little as I ogle him shamelessly without him knowing. His body is lithe and powerful and proud.
And my tribeswomen are salivating for him.
Heck, I’m salivating for him. Are we really going to sleep beside each other and do nothing else?
I’m so busy wondering if I can keep my hands to myself that I miss what’s spoken between Halki and my tribesisters, but he gets his blankets. He slaps the door flap down and his feet pound the floor as he makes his way back to our benches.
He’s muttering to himself. “Those females are in desperate need for male attention.”
“They are,” I confirm. “Know of any single males who want to give them attention? Perhaps you have a brother or two you can toss to them?”
Halki pauses, a considering look flashing over his face. “I do have brothers I would feed to these she-sharks.”
“Really?”
He clucks his tongue, in agreement I guess, and he rolls out the blankets he demanded until he’s basically satisfied. He still says we don’t have enough for a proper nest, but he says this will do for tonight.
With that, his thigh bunches, and his knee mounts the bench.
Where else am I supposed to look? Of course I’m staring at his front and center. My mouth has gone dry. This dragon is hung.
Halki’s warm fingers cup my cheek, making me jump. My eyes guiltily fly up to his to find he’s staring down at me with something both pleased and almost tender. “Your gaze, drhema, is more rewarding than all the treasure I’ve caved in a lifetime.”
I’m sure I heard him correctly but I still don’t understand. “‘Caved?’”
“Collected. All treasure is stowed in a cave. Thus, we