“Sure.” I nod. “I’ll be happy to talk.”

“Excellent.” She heads out in a sweep of lavender embroidered skirts, and then servants flee after her, everyone exiting the room at the same time. I’m left alone with Markos, Solat, and Kerren.

“Are you guys okay?” I ask. “You didn’t get hurt, did you?”

“They stripped our armor and weapons from us and were just about to take us to the dungeons,” Markos admits. “But we were not hurt, no.”

Solat adds, “You should have seen the looks on their faces when they found out you were telling the truth. They couldn’t bow and scrape quick enough for ‘Lord Aron’s guardsmen.’” He smirks and moves to the tray of food, picking up a wedge of cheese.

I head over to it and slap his hand. “That’s mine.”

He grins at me and eats it anyway. “Shall we sleep in the doorway and keep you guarded?”

I think about Aron, how happy he was to greet the king. How he let me leave with the queen, no questions asked. He trusts these people. Even so, it’s been a hell of a journey to get here. “We’ll ask for you guys to have an adjoining room,” I decide. “One can stay on guard at the doorway while the others are relaxing. And ask for a tray from the kitchens,” I say, slapping Solat’s hand again when he reaches for another piece of cheese. “If you eat any more of that I’m going to throw you from the rafters.”

“Never come between an anchor and her meal,” he says with a wink, but he pulls back. Good.

I flick my hands at them. “I’m filthy, and Aron kissed me and transferred his filth to me. I’m going to bathe and then eat until he gets here. Are you guys okay to do your own thing?”

“We’ll find a servant,” Markos reassures me.

“A pretty one, hopefully,” Solat adds.

“Glad to see you’re back to being yourself.” I eat a piece of cheese myself as they file out, and then Kerren points at the door, indicating he’ll be just outside.

Then, the heavy doors are shut, and I’m all alone in the sumptuous room.

I spend the next hour in the tub, eating cheese and meat, drinking wine, and relaxing in the scorchingly hot water. It’s so damn nice that I hate to get out, but I do when I tragically run out of wine. I get out of the tub, towel off, and then wrap myself in a fur-trimmed sleeping gown I find in the trunk. I crawl into the epic-looking bed and sigh with pleasure.

And fall asleep.

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74

I wake up in the middle of the night to a big, naked body spooning my backside and hiking up my nightgown.

Aron kisses my neck, his breath hot on my skin. “Should I let you sleep?”

I moan, reaching for him. “Not now that I’m all turned on.”

He chuckles, the sound low and delicious. “Then my plan worked.” He continues to kiss my neck, his mouth devouring with need as he rolls me onto my belly and then hikes my hips into the air. “I need you, Faith. Are you wet for me?”

His hand slides between my thighs and he strokes my folds, teasing me. I moan as he pushes a finger into my pussy, working it back and forth. He’s not giving me any time to think about things, his hands insistent. He must still be fired up from the battle earlier, because I can feel his enormous cock stabbing into my thigh as he presses his big body against my backside.

Arousal, quick and urgent, shoots through me, and when he pushes my nightgown up to my shoulders, leaving the majority of my body exposed, I get on my hands and knees, arching my backside even higher into the air like a cat in heat. I need him just as badly as he needs me. I want his touch. Need it. “Aron,” I pant. “Claim me like you mean it.”

“Oh, I always mean it, my Faith.” His fingers glide over my folds, teasing my clit expertly. “Look at how wet your cunt is for me already. You like it when I take you, don’t you?”

“If I didn’t, you’d know about it,” I manage, my fingers twisting in the blankets under my hands as he pets and strokes me. He’s right, though, I’m so wet already that I can hear the slick noises my pussy’s making as he touches me. Just his touch is enough to get me all worked up within seconds. I’ve never wanted anyone as badly as I’ve wanted this man. It’s like there’s some charged connection between us at a deeper level—he turns me on as I’ve never been turned on before.

He laughs, easing a second finger into my pussy and fucking me with it. “Always with a retort,” Aron murmurs. “Never willing to admit that you need to be fucked, and fucked hard.”

I moan, burying my face against the blankets. “Aron.”

“You do, don’t you, though?” he says, determined to dirty-talk his way through my orgasm. “You need me to fuck this wet, juicy cunt. You need my thick cock deep inside you until you scream. You need my fingers on your breasts—”

“They haven’t been on my breasts yet, have they?” I manage, panting.

“Is that what I’m doing wrong?” he teases in a sultry voice, and then his fingers slide out of my pussy and move to my breast, teasing it with a wet caress. “Now will you scream for me?”

“I’ll scream if you don’t get inside me in the next minute.” I wiggle my backside, trying to entice him.

I get what I want—he pushes into me in the next moment, and my cheek skids across the blankets. I don’t even care—it feels so amazing that my toes curl and I’m gasping as he thrusts into me again, so hard and deep that I swear I can feel him all the way to my belly. He holds onto my hips and uses my body—I can’t even keep a rhythm with him because he’s so quick and fierce, and each thrust is so hard that it takes me by surprise. He’s pumping into me with such power that there’s a pleasure-pain edge to things, and I can’t last longer than a few moments before I shatter into a million pieces, choking out his name as I come.

Then, he reaches between my thighs and toys with my clit until I come again.

By the time he finally comes, I feel wrung out. I curl up on the bed, utterly sated as he gets a towel and then washes us both off. Funny, that I wouldn’t think of the god who just fucked my brains out as tender with aftercare, but he is. He washes my pussy clean of his release with gentle hands, then tosses the cloth aside. He tucks the blankets around us and pulls me close to him, his lips on my brow.

I start to drift off to sleep again when he speaks. “You’ll be safe here with the queen.”

“Mmm?” I manage. “I’m staying with the queen?”

“I told First Warrior Mathior that it is my command. No one is more guarded than the queen and her son. You’ll be safest with them.” He pauses thoughtfully, his hands brushing my hair off my brow. “He loves her.”

“Good for him. She seems like a nice lady.”

“They are very different,” Aron muses. “The Cyclopae are not as civilized as the Yshremi, but he has wanted her ever since he was a small boy. The moment he became First Warrior, he took her as his bride. I remember him offering many times to me, determined to have his way. I liked his spirit.” He presses his mouth to my brow again. “Which is why you will be safest with her. The entire kingdom would have to collapse before Mathior would let the enemy approach Halla.”

I tuck myself closer to him. “So you’re leaving me tomorrow? You can’t go far—we’re tethered, remember?” I frown at the memory of the intense pain I felt when in Citadel, all because I didn’t realize that I couldn’t step away from Aron’s side.

“I’m not leaving,” he corrects. “But every day, I will be on the front line of the battlefields.”

I lift my head and look up at him, and he’s smiling.

Men.

“So you’re excited about war?”

He grins. “Of course.”