Behind her is a cloaked figure, and I hold my breath as she peeks over her shoulder, the look utterly flirtatious. She glances around, then moves to a tree close to my own, as if picking a spot that's in the perfect line of sight. "Here?"

"Not here," comes the voice, and I stiffen, a reaction shivering through my body. I recognize that voice. It's Aron. Bad Aron. Liar Aron.

The concubine gives a throaty little laugh, tosses her hair, and puts her hands on the bark of the tree, even though he just told her not to. She leans forward and bends at the waist, sticking her butt out with a wiggle.

I suck in a breath when the man accompanying her grabs the edge of her skirt, pushes it up, and exposes her equally perfect ass. He moves behind her, and then she surges forward with a low cry.

Holy shit. He's doing her right in front of me. I clutch the rock, both fascinated and horrified all at once. My jaw drops, and as I stare in shock, he begins to thrust in fast, hard pumps, the force of his movements making her bounce forward. He's angled so I can't see his face, but I can definitely see him driving into her. I watch as he fucks her, wondering if I should throw the rock now, or wait until they're done. He's drilling her so hard that it can't take long…can it?

Her cries get louder and louder, as if he's killing her vagina, and he steadies a hand on her shoulder, holding her so he can pound into her that much harder. I squeeze my thighs tightly together because it's affecting me. I'm fascinated by his brusque, efficient movements, and part of me wishes he was naked so I could watch his back flex as he moves over her. The hood of his cloak falls back, and then I see the dark hair and strange eyes that mark him as Aron.

That changes everything. I’m watching Aron—my Aron—have sex with a gorgeous woman and…it’s weird. I know it’s not really him, but at the same time, I feel jealous. This Aron doesn't know me, but for some reason, it bothers me that he's fucking someone else. My Aron's never laid a finger on me…

Well, that's not true. My brain helpfully fires up several reminders of that night in Tadekha's Citadel, where he fingered me as I crawled all over him.

Doesn't make me feel better.

Another figure crashes through the underbrush, and I clutch my rock tighter. Bad Aron doesn't stop in his relentless fucking of the busty concubine, who's squealing as if she's dying. Even if I threw a rock right now, I doubt anyone would notice, so I guess it's just as well I wait and watch. I swallow hard as a second man approaches, dressed in a dark cloak and long robes. He’s young, which surprises me, his beard nothing but scruffy wisps. He arranges long robes around his body as they snag on the greenery and gives the busy twosome an irritated look as he approaches.

Aron doesn't pause in the slightest. "Louder," he tells the female, and she quiets down. Weird. Maybe he likes disobedience.

The wizard—because it has to be the wizard—moves to stand next to Aron, watching them with glittering eyes. "I want to go next," he says. "Before you take her again." His gaze is locked onto the shuddering woman, who's clawing at the bark of the tree and panting. Her tits heave with every thrust Bad Aron pumps into her, and it's clear she's loving what she's getting. Even the people back by the fire—the mercenaries—are glancing over. She’s quieter, but not quiet enough.

Aron ignores the wizard.

"Let me have a turn," the wizard tries again. "You'll have her all night. We've shared her before."

Aron pauses, his movements stopping. He's still buried deep inside her, and he turns to look at the wizard. The woman moans and squirms back against him, clearly not happy with the pause. The wizard cringes back from Aron's look, retreating a step.

"Of course you can go next," Bad Aron says, and his voice is so familiar that it sends shivers down my spine. "I love the taste of your cum on her lips."

The concubine giggles.

The wizard flushes, his mouth thinning into an angry line, and stalks back to the camp. Aron watches him go, then grunts, and turns back to the concubine. He puts his hand on her shoulder once more, and then grinds into her.

"Oooh," she moans.

"Louder," he snaps, and she goes quiet again as he starts to fuck her once more.

I'm a little confused. Everything they do is in direct contradiction to what he says. I watch him continue to drive into her against the tree, and her cries are muffled against her arm. It takes a moment, but then it dawns on me.

He's the Aron of Lies.

Mine is Arrogance, so everything he does and everything he says comes from a place of arrogance. This one clearly can't tell the truth, and so everyone's interpreting what he tells them. Oh. Suddenly it makes sense.

With a grunt, Bad Aron stiffens, and I watch, almost hoping I could see his O-face. I guess it's good that I can't. It still feels surreal to think of Aron screwing another woman…and doing an amazing job of it. I’m still feeling that weird surge of jealousy, and I hate that. The god pats the woman's flank as he pulls away and she straightens, lowering her skirt. "Let the wizard touch you next," he tells her. "I'm done with you for tonight. You know how fond I am of sharing.”

Her face is flushed and she gives a little wobbly curtsy, panting. "I won't let anyone touch me but you, my lord of storms."

He grunts, pleased, and then adjusts his clothes and heads back to the encampment. A moment later, she follows, straightening her gorgeous hair. I watch them go, shell-shocked, and then remember the rock in my hand. Right. My Aron's going to think I've fallen asleep.

Or maybe he was watching that, too. I wonder for a moment if he found her pretty. Of course he would. It's still Aron, right? So he would have the same taste in women. I hate that.

With vicious force, I fling a rock into the bushes and imagine nailing Aron's head with it.

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42

The underbrush crunches, the leaves shaking, and one of the guards pauses, flask almost to his lips, and glances into the woods. He turns back to the camp, counts heads, and then says something low that I can't quite make out. After he puts his flask away, he pulls out his sword and heads into the brush, disappearing.

Nothing happens.

I watch, waiting, and all is quiet. The guard doesn't emerge, no one goes to check on him, and there's no signal from Aron that he's taken care of the problem, either. I have to wait and hope that things went according to plan. I give it a few moments, and then I chuck another rock in the same direction.

This time, his buddy is the one that pauses. "Gracel?" He takes a few steps into the woods. "Anything?"

When there's no answer, he pulls out his sword, too, and then disappears into the shadows. Two of the other guards are paying attention now, frowns on their faces, and I wonder how many are going to fall for this before Aron's plan goes awry.

Apparently the answer is two. I throw a third rock after enough time has hopefully passed, and the Bad Aron by the fire begins to look wary. He frowns deeply and I hear thunder rumbling overhead. He points at three of the guards, and they nod and head into the woods while three more pull their swords and gather close to Aron.

The wizard sidles closer to Bad Aron, his face pinched with an expression like irritation. “What is it, my Lord of Storms?”