“Look at how wet you are,” he rasps between decadent licks of my cunt. “I love that touching me makes you so slick with need. All of this, just because you sucked my cock?”

I whimper when he laps at my clit. “I like sucking your cock.”

“Clearly.” A thick finger pushes inside me—one of the ones he keeps shorn short so he doesn’t claw me. He tongues my clit again and strokes his finger in and out of me, working me. I huff with need and rock against his hand, and this time, he doesn’t lift his mouth to talk. He just keeps sucking and licking, and the orgasm that was so close crashes over me with fierce intensity. I cry out, clinging to him as the ripples of pleasure wash through me, until his tongue no longer feels pleasant, but too sensitive. I gently tug him away, and Nemeth crawls over me, pressing one more wet kiss to my mouth—his lips tasting of my cunt—and then collapses next to me.

I slowly tug my skirts down, thinking of all the washing I’m going to have to do. Maybe I’ll just throw away this dress. I can’t very well return to Castle Lios in a gown that reeks of sex and is covered in dried cum. I have another dress packed away…somewhere. And I won’t need these gowns when we return to the castle. I’ll have my wardrobe back, and Riza, and Nurse. I want that so badly I can taste it, and I sigh happily, turning and tucking myself against Nemeth’s big form.

“Candra,” my mate murmurs, stroking my braided hair.

“Hmm?”

“I…” He hesitates, then holds me tighter against him. “It’s nothing. Just me worrying.”

Well now, that makes two of us. “What were you going to say?”

“Nothing,” he replies. “Nothing at all.”

It takes everything I have not to touch my stomach. Has he figured it out…but no. If he knew, he’d say something, wouldn’t he?

Surely?

Chapter

Sixty

Iwake up to the sound of thunder crackling overhead and what sounds like rocks smashing against our flimsy shelter. Hail, I realize as I see a sprinkling of icy-looking pebbles outside. Beside me, Nemeth sits up, tense and uneasy. His wing is spread over me protectively, keeping me safe from the drips of rain that leak in through our shelter. “Good morning,” I say, rising slightly. My face feels hot and tight, thanks to the sunburn. “I see we have great weather for our travel.”

“The goddess has sent an angry storm to greet us,” Nemeth says, and when he jerks at a faint crack of thunder, I feel a wave of sympathy for him.

He didn’t like storms even in the protected halls of the tower. I can only imagine how loud and terrifying this must be. I reach over and touch his arm. “If this is the worst the goddess has for us, I’ll consider us lucky.”

“Mmm,” is all he says, and I can tell he’s unnerved by the ferocity of the storm. It does seem a little stronger than expected, but I also don’t spend a lot of time outside in storms myself. This barn isn’t much of a shelter, either. The entire thing sways with a strong breeze. “We should wait the storm out,” Nemeth tells me. “Hopefully it will not last too long.”

“I’m fine with waiting. It’s not as if I want to go traipsing about in the mud anyhow.” I hug one of the blankets tighter around my shoulders, watching the storm—and my lover. Nemeth had been in a good mood last night after our fooling around. He’d given me my medicine and then we’d snuggled in the blankets together. This morning he seems on edge. I nudge him. “Don’t think that a storm means you’re getting out of flying. I want to see you in the skies.”

The look he gives me is downright cranky.

I ignore it and drape his arm over my shoulders.

He gives in, tucking me under his arm, rubbing my back. “Ask your knife if this storm will last all day. We do not have enough of your medicine to linger in one place for long.”

Right. We have a week of medicine. After that, I’m out, and I don’t know how long it’s going to take us to get back to the capital of Lios and the palace itself. “If it keeps raining, we can just walk in the rain.” But I pull out my knife, reminded that we’re on limited time. I pull it from its sheath that I’ve kept tucked tight in my cleavage, and hold it in my hand. “Hello, knife. Is this storm going to last all day?”

The knife is still.

I give Nemeth a smug look. “See? The knife wants you to fly too.”

His expression remains grave. “Ask it if the weather is because of the goddess. If she’s angry.”

I bite my lip, because I hate the big questions. I’m never ready for the answers. I hold the knife, squeezing my eyes shut. “Is the goddess angry at us?”

Cringing, I wait for the knife to shudder. It does nothing.

I gasp and look over at Nemeth, delighted. “That’s a no, right?”

“It’s not a yes. That’s all.” He still looks pensive, his mouth hard. “I don’t understand. We disobeyed. Shouldn’t the goddess be furious at us?”

But I’m giddy, my heart fluttering with relief. “I’ll change the wording, then.” I concentrate on the knife. “Is the goddess angry?”

Shiver. Yes.

My stomach plummets again. “The goddess is angry, but not at us?”

Again, a shiver of affirmation.

I look over at Nemeth. “She’s angry all right. Maybe she’s furious that they forgot us and we were forced to leave?”

He doesn’t look convinced. “I don’t know. I don’t have the answers for any of this.”

Me either. I think for a moment longer, then ask, “Does anyone know we’ve left the tower?”

No shiver.

I suppose that’s a good thing. “Will we get to Lios in under seven days at the rate we’re traveling?”

No shiver.

Oh. I fight back panic, because there’s no sense in it. We knew I was low on medicine. I look over at Nemeth. “I guess we need to speed up.”

My mate nods. He gets to his feet and shakes his wings out. “I don’t mind walking in the rain.”

Me either. I need to walk for as long as I can, for as far as I can, and then hope that Nemeth can carry me. “Once the hail stops, we can go.”

It’s a miserable journey. My face is hot with sunburn and hurts despite the constant rain, as do my hands and my scalp. Even the wet weather isn’t all that soothing, as it soaks our clothes and turns the road into mud. I scrub at my dress as we walk, trying to get the worst of the cum stains out using the rain. I suppose that the good news is that when it dries, it’ll be so wrinkled and unsightly that no one will notice a few stains.

The land around us remains flat and rocky, with only a few scrubby bushes and very few trees to break up the landscape. It’s rather unpleasant, but there are distant hills that hint at a change in scenery, at least.

“Does any of this look familiar to you?” Nemeth asks me.

I shake my head. “I was too miserable to pay attention to the scenery when I was brought here,” I admit. “I vaguely recall following the coast and driving through a few little towns along the way.”

“Well, we’re following the coast,” Nemeth agrees, gesturing at the horizon to the east, where just out of sight, the waters of the sea gleam invitingly.

“Perhaps a boat?” I ask. “To speed up our travel?” I’m all too aware that the knife says we won’t get to the castle in time. We need a way to speed up somehow, to walk faster…something. Anything.

“Do you know how to sail?” Nemeth asks me.

“Well…no. Do you?”

His brows go up. “Candra…my people live inside a mountain.”

“Is that a no, then?” I joke.

He stares at me, and then his big shoulders shake with laughter. A chuckle rumbles out of him, and the heavy pack on his back jostles with the force of his laughter. I smile as I walk at his side, pleased that out of everything, I can still make him laugh. “It’s not as if we’re knee-deep in boats anyhow,” I admit. “I’m just trying to think of alternatives to walking.”