“I am.” Upset doesn’t even begin to cover the emotions I’m feeling right now.

He moves to my side and crouches low in front of the chair, gazing up at me. Nemeth takes my hands in his, and I’m reminded of how enormous his hands are in comparison to mine. Like all Fellians, he has the oversized grip…a grip that squeezes my heart between his fingers and is in danger of breaking it. “I am thinking of you and our child, Candra. I know you’re hurt. You have every right to be. But if I have to choose between watching you die at my side or letting some humans drag you to their city on horseback, I’m going to pick the humans.” He strokes his thumb over my knuckles. “Even if it means you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” I whisper, aching. “I just hate everything about this situation.”

He lifts my hand to his cheek, the hard planes of his face familiar under my touch. “I’ve been following ever since they broke into the cottage,” he tells me. “I’ve agonized over every moment. I haven’t slept, knowing that you were with them and vulnerable. Ten thousand times I wanted to slaughter them all and take the horses, but I cannot ride, either. At least this way you could cling to one of them.” He turns his face, brushing his lips against my palm, grazing the bite mark there. “I hated them. I hated them so much, and every time I nearly stole you away again, a new settlement would be on the horizon, and I was convinced that this would be the one that would have people. This would be the one where they would welcome you like the princess you are and feed you. They could give you more than a Fellian, and so I watched from the shadows and held back my rage.” He bares his teeth, his green eyes glinting. “I hated that they stole the food. If I had anything to slip you, I would have left it in your path. But there is nothing. The rain is washing everything away.”

The goddess is furious with humanity. Not with myself and Nemeth, but that bit of knowledge doesn’t make me feel any better. It’s difficult for me to see Nemeth so stern and not try to make him smile. So I manage a weak grin and stroke his strong chin. “You miscalculated, I’m afraid. We’re still at least a day out from the city and we’ve eaten the horse. If your plan was for them to take me to the gates of Lios, you’ve failed, my love.”

His teeth scrape over my bite, and it sends a shiver up my spine. “I couldn’t wait a moment longer. They were going to hurt you. Touch you.” He bares his teeth, his lips curling back with fury. “I’d destroy every human alive before I’d let them harm one hair on your head.”

My eyes go wide.

“You belong to me.” He places his teeth over the plump part of my palm, fitting against the bite mark. “My Candra. My mate. Do you know how feral it makes me to think that they might have touched you? Do you know how much I wanted to tear them limb from limb for the way they were looking at you?” Nemeth growls, his nostrils flaring as he gazes at me. “Do you know how much effort it’s taking me not to drag you to this floor and give you my knot because I need to claim you?”

My breath catches in my lungs. “Nemeth.”

“I know what I did was wrong. I know, and I hated every moment of it. But I would do anything for you, Candra.” The look he gives me is full of longing, full of emotion, and I’m right back there in the tower, listening to him confess his love for me. “You are everything to me.”

“I love you, too,” I tell him. “And if I didn’t feel like death warmed over at this moment, I’d ask you for that knot after all.”

That brings a smile to his hard, unforgiving mouth. He kisses the mark on my palm and gets to his feet. “I may not be able to knot you, but I can feed you. Right now, that’s almost as good.”

“Is it? Is it really?”

He pauses. “Well, no.” His wings flutter with shy agitation. “But it will have to do.”

Chapter

Sixty-Seven

We stay that night in the manor house. Nemeth makes me eat no less than three bowls of horse soup, staggered over two hours, and then I’m so tired that I doze in front of the fire while he sets up magical wards and more perimeter spells. I want to watch him to see what the spells entail, but I’m so groggy after both medicine and food that my eyes won’t stay open. I’m vaguely aware of the fire dying down, of Nemeth carrying me to bed.

I wake up, rested and no longer hungry, curled up against Nemeth’s side. His big, warm hand is palming one of my breasts through my chemise (I’m not sure how he got my outer dress off of me) as if it belongs to him. He snores, content, and I remember how he said he didn’t sleep a wink while we were apart. My heart fills with love for him and I tuck his hand closer around me, relaxing in bed. I’ll lay here and let him sleep peacefully, I decide. I’ll be a good, benevolent, unselfish mate and let him sleep.

But I can’t fall back asleep. Instead, I think about last night, and the vicious, feral look in his eyes as he checked me all over. Did they touch you? he’d asked, over and over again, as if he’d lose every bit of his sanity if they had. My Nemeth, who claims to be a scholar, had almost been a feral beast.

It makes me unbearably aroused.

I wait for that to go away, too. Lately it seems that if I’m awake, my stomach wants to vomit everything back out, and then I feel normal. So I wait for that wave of nausea, but there’s nothing. I just feel good. I feel warm. I feel aroused. Really, really aroused.

Hm.

I wriggle backward against Nemeth’s groin, hoping to find him hard and erect. He snores on, oblivious to my need, and I have to decide if I’m going to be selfish or if I’m going to let him sleep. I ponder this, even as his hand weighs heavy on my breast, and I absently shift back and forth, hoping for friction from his hand.

Stuff it, I decide. I’m going to be somewhat unselfish. I’ll wake him…but I’ll wake him my favorite way.

Decided upon my course of action, I wriggle, intending to slip out of Nemeth’s grasp, when his hand tightens on my breast. His heavy thigh clamps down over mine, and he gives my breast a light squeeze. “And where are you going, princess?”

His voice is throaty with sleep, and it does something to my insides. I quiver with need. “I was going to wake you up,” I pant, unbearably aware of his hand on my breast. His thumb is stroking over the thin material of my chemise, and he teases my nipple into a point. “With my mouth on your knot.”

“Mmm. I’ve a better idea.”

“Oh?” I prickle all over with anticipation.

He just keeps rubbing my nipple, teasing it to a point between his fingers and stroking it until I’m writhing against him. “How are you feeling this morning, my mate?”

“Needy,” I pant. “So needy.”

His big hand leaves my breast and slides down to my hip, and he tugs on my chemise. “Any sickness? Dizziness?”

“If you’re asking if it’s okay to fuck me, the answer is yes,” I tell him, grabbing my skirts and hitching them up before his hand can. “Please, please yes. I’ve missed you so much.”

Nemeth’s hand moves between my thighs. He cups my pussy and finds me wet, and a low growl echoes in his throat. “You have missed me, haven’t you?” He pushes my gown up even further, until it’s bunched at my waist, and then I feel his cock pressing into me from behind.

I gasp, arching back against him.

“You can take it,” he whispers against the pillows. “I’ll make you wet enough that you can take all of me.” His fingers dance over my clit, even as he nudges my thighs apart with his big one and the head of his cock sinks into me.

Whimpering, I cover his hand with mine as he works my clit. Not because I’m trying to push him away, but just because I desperately need to hold on to something.