send me to my death, okay?”
Have I yet? I would never hurt you.
“Doesn’t mean it can’t happen, and I like to be prepared just in case.” She squints at me. “How is your vision in this form? You’re not going to spook if something jumps in front of you, are you?”
I snort in insult.
You may have to be able to ride me as you would a horse, but I’ll remind you that I am definitely not one.
“I don’t know… You could make a passable stallion to me,” she unexpectedly fires back flirtatiously, and the innuendo doesn’t escape me. I am at once relieved. I love my mate as spirited and bold as she is. And her obvious desire is good for my ego.
I smile inwardly and preen a bit at my female’s encouraging notice. Despite my rejection of her offer, she is still making a small advance and demonstrating her appreciation. Perhaps there is hope after all that she’ll come around.
Chapter 21
Steph
It’s pretty clear that Eliph is on edge. In some ways, he hasn’t been the same since our awkward discussion about sex, but I know that more than that is weighing on him. As we travel through the naga territory, he spends nearly all his time in his fetch form as if expecting an imminent attack. Despite the confidence that he seems to exude when in his fae form, he can’t hide just how uncomfortable he is. Even Grimsal’s attempts at distraction seem to be working less as one day bleeds into another and we settle into a routine of traveling during the daylight hours, with me riding Eliph a little longer each time.
I still dread the riding part. Although the pain is more manageable, especially with the help of Eliph and Grimsal’s magic goop, I’m still having a hard time controlling my anxiety when mounted. Although I know Eliph isn’t a beast and won’t just throw me in a sudden state of panic, I can’t seem to work past that fear. And in turn, it makes me feel guilty as hell because he obviously prefers to carry me. It’s just a thing for him… I would even go as far as saying that he enjoys it, which is hard for me to wrap my mind around since I’m not exactly a featherweight.
Don’t get me wrong—I love my curves. I’m made thick and beautiful. But I’m also not the one carrying me around for what’s now three to four hours a day. I can’t even bring myself to object because other than his obvious enthusiasm for it, it’s also the only time that he’s even a little relaxed. It’s as if just having me on his back satisfies some need in him.
Knowing that his species usually carries their mates off to the safety of their grottos, I can’t say I’m surprised. Even sitting on his back as I am now, I can feel the occasional ripple of tension through him as if he’s battling temptation to just bolt and get me away from all of this as soon as possible.
On one hand, it’s flattering, but it also makes me feel worse about the entire situation we’re in because I can imagine that denying instinct has got to be rough. I mean, I give him props for denying an obvious hard on—as much as that really sucked—but denying rampant lust and sheer ingrained instinct are two different things. I don’t help matters with the former, and the latter is all for me.
It’s both crazy and terribly sweet.
And because of that, things have been awkward between us over the last few days. It’s not like he ignores me or anything. In some ways, there’s no real discernible change in our interactions. He still talks with me, whether just being sweet, relaying information, or joking around as he’s always done. Everything seems normal—except that it’s not. I feel an invisible wall has come between us. I’m pretty sure that he feels it too, and that’s putting additional strain on him. A combination of stress and something unfulfilled—whether sexually or emotionally, I don’t even really know—between us that is just hanging in the balance. I try to ignore it because Eliph does, but I wonder how long that will last before we have to deal with it.
As Eliph walks at a rapid clip, I squint at the looming purple mountains with a sense of relief. Another day or so and we’ll be out of the forests and heading up into the mountains. Although