Oath of the Alpha - Eva Dresden Page 0,4
the crates she rummaged through. Fingers twitching at her side, Aida stared with longing at the blade Rhyn kept at his hip. Perhaps she could snatch it free and plunge it into her chest before either reacted.
“I am not a blood mage,” Miyenth snarled, adding a stomp of her foot to further punctuate her distaste. “Whatever that bastard wanted with you, I’ve no use for it. Now, tell me how you stopped my spell. Did he give you a charm? Some potion? Do you have some miserably weak talent of your own that manifests when being questioned?”
“Calm down, woman. You’re scaring her,” Rhyn said, chuckling the entire time he tugged Aida to his side. Taking hold of her wrist, he squeezed hard even as he smiled down at her. “I told you I wouldn’t hurt you unless you gave me cause, imp. Taking my knife would be on that list.”
“But she’s not a mage, Rhyn! She shouldn’t be able to do that.”
“I’m sorry.” Aida worried at her lower lip, bunching the folds of her skirt with the fingers of her free hand.
“Ah, she’s apologizing,” Rhyn crowed, letting loose a laugh at the ceiling as he swept Aida up into his arms. Dancing in a tight circle, he twirled around so fast her skirt drifted up. Crashing to a stop, he grinned down at Aida, a heat she understood all too well flaring in his deep blue eyes. “Now I want to keep you all for myself, imp. You’re too perfect.”
“Rhyn, you don’t understand,” Miyenth began, ending in an abrupt growl when Rhyn held his palm up to her.
“Is she a danger?”
“I don’t know. That’s the problem!”
“We’ll sleep on it and address it again in the morning.” Rhyn gave a firm nod, cradling Aida with one arm beneath her backside, keeping his other hand free to ruffle Miyenth’s russet curls.
“You’re not leaving her with me?” Miyenth’s eyes rounded, her lips going slack before she regained her composure and resorted to scowling at Rhyn’s teasing smile.
“What, and risk these incredible breasts?”
“You’re not really going to bed her!”
Tilting his hand from side to side, Rhyn’s lips pulled down in consideration. “Perhaps I will. Perhaps I won’t. Truth remains that you can’t control her with your magic, and if it comes to physical strength, you’re near a match. I’ll not have that lot coming to rescue you.”
“I can take care of myself.” Miyenth crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes narrowing to vicious slits.
“I know.” Heading for the door, Rhyn set Aida on her feet and slung his arm around her shoulders, dragging her closer when Aida corrected the slumped posture he forced upon her. “Which is the problem. I’d never hear the end of it. Vrazys keep you, Miyenth.”
Leaving Miyenth to sputter and curse at their backs, Rhyn led Aida back through the darkness and toward the deeper blackness of the small hut. Smile easy, stride languid, he showed little care for the men who remained huddled around the paltry warmth of the central fire. At least, Aida thought he did, but as she glanced once more at the twisted flames and faces marred by the flickering light, Rhyn palmed the side of her face and pushed her into his chest. His chuckle was downright licentious as he dropped the arm from around her shoulders to land a light smack against her backside.
He let her shove him away after they entered the hut made of sticks, smiling all the while as Aida felt her way to the back wall to put more space between them. Eyes heavy-lidded, the rich sapphire of his gaze swept over her, lingering on the torn front of her tunic.
“You said you wouldn’t,” Aida stammered out as she clutched the loose folds of her skirt tighter, wishing she’d been dressed in the complicated layers of one of her gowns. Er’it’s tunic and the thin skirt offered little protection to reassure her.
“This night, no, but dawn is near, imp. Listen to the birds waking in their nests.”
Aida’s brows knit, a huff of breath squeezing from her lungs when she heard the telltale chirping murmur. It grew louder as each thundering heartbeat pounded in her chest. By the time she realized her mistake, it was far too late.
Rhyn’s hands closed on the ragged edges of the tunic, opening it with a hissing sigh of torn linen. Tugging it from Aida’s shoulders before she could do more than scream a denial, tangling her arms in it, he set to work on