Pull it together, Assyria!
We entered a semi-private room, the only light offered by half-burned candles scattered over every surface. Scented sticks burned in holders, the smoke lingering in the air and giving it a heady, musky smell. Already, a few males I recognized from Dromak’s charge had their hands wrapped around the backs of their heads, legs splayed wide, while females danced and ground between them.
The way they moved made me want to raise my eyebrows to my hairline. When I noticed how little they wore, I nearly stopped breathing. This was everything that Priestess Anara had threatened us with if we didn’t lie on our backs and hold still while our husbands filled us with their seed.
“I will bring you something to drink momentarily,” the female leading us purred. We stopped at a set of couches set on either side of a round table. Uzadaan, Izgath, and Dromak settled themselves, and I hurriedly planted myself in the empty spot beside Izgath, praying that one of the two of us would figure out how to get me out of here.
Why didn’t I refuse outside the tavern?
I was out of my depth, and it wouldn’t be long before Uzadaan and Dromak discovered my true identity. Would they keep my secret too? I’d like to think we’d grown close in our time together, and with their lawless behavior in patronizing the fallen house, I had to assume they were willing to break some of the Reaper-given rules.
But would they break them for me?
“Relax, Vagach,” Dromak chuckled, resting his large arms across the back of the couch, “if you keep that sour look on your face, none of the females will want to join us.”
Dragging in a long breath, I smoothed my expression, relaxing each muscle in an attempt to arrest my racing heart. It didn’t help.
The female returned, glass drinks squeezed tight against her chest. They pushed her breasts higher and together while leaving little droplets on her creamy skin. She placed them on the table, and the moment she finished, Dromak pulled her onto his lap and lapped the liquid off her chest. She giggled and pushed playfully against his arms. With one hand, he directed one of her mauve nipples into his mouth, sucking on the bud. Uzadaan scooted away, then draped his arm in a similar fashion, crossing one leg over the other as he watched Dromak tease the female.
I learned then that I could not get an erection while using my magic, but wetness could still pool between my thighs. Heat bloomed there as I continued to watch with rapt fascination, barely breathing as Dromak switched to her other breast, dragging his teeth over it and sending the female’s head tipping back.
Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined intimacy could be like this, with the female scratching her long nails into Dromak’s scalp and directing him to suck harder.
Izgath startled me when his hot breath fanned across my ear. “I take it that Vagach never pleasured you like this?”
“No,” I croaked, hating that his voice slipped out.
I am so fucking tired of pretending to be the male who abused me.
Something soft brushed against my skin, my real skin, and I nearly gasped at the sensation. “Izgath, what–”
“Shh,” he purred, sending a shiver down my spine. “There was something off about you from the moment you joined us that morning in Stryi. My magic could always sense something else beneath your exterior. Now I know why.”
Thankfully, neither Uzadaan or Dromak were paying us any attention. I swung my head toward Izgath. “I want to leave.”
“Then leave,” he replied, sitting back. A smooth smile slid across his face. “No one is stopping you.”
“You’ll stay?” I questioned, a stone settling in my gut.
He lifted a brow. “Do you want me to?”
I opened my mouth to reply, then paused. Did I want him to stay? Of course, I had no control over what he did with his time. What was he really asking of me?
That soft caress slipped through my thoughts, and I blinked, returning to the hazy room. “I think you want me to leave with you,” Izgath crooned, leaning forward. My attention was drawn immediately to his lips as he licked them. “And I think I want to see you like you were in the river, Assyria.”
The way my name rolled off his tongue sent heat straight to my center. More of it bloomed on my cheeks. Never had a male been so forward with me. Could I release my hesitation and give myself to Izgath? What if I fell pregnant? In all my years with Vagach, I hadn’t, but what if this time was the one time? How long could I hide that with my magic? Would Izgath wed me then and spirit me away to a city where I’d see him only after the war ended? Would the only way this ended be in discovery and thereby death?
“Where did you go?” he asked, brows dipping together and pulling me out of my worries.
Twisting my fingers in my lap, I murmured, “I don’t know if I can.”
A groan, long and low, rumbled against my ears, and my eyes flicked to the side, where the female had her palm wrapped around Dromak’s hardness, pumping him slowly. Uzadaan made a similar motion on himself as he watched.
Another caress of Izgath’s magic against my skin forced my attention back to the Incubus. He looked at me as if he wanted to devour me, and while my body screamed yes, the fears in my mind, the words Priestess Anara had drilled into my head, screamed no.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, the sound breathy and entirely too feminine for my liking. In a flash, I was on my feet and striding away. The wooden doors and flickering candles flashed by me as I retreated.
No one called out for me; no one followed me.
When I burst through the door and onto the dank street, I sucked in a much-needed breath, though the air that I inhaled was rancid and pungent with odors I didn’t want to name. Nor did it slow my racing heart; only when I jogged around the corner and leaned against a wall, out of sight, did I exhale and allow my shoulders to drop from my ears.
Why was it that males could enter establishments like those like it was nothing, yet if a female deigned to seek pleasure for herself, even with her husband, she was sentenced to misery? The unfairness of it all set my teeth on edge. My body thrummed with a mix of lust and bewilderment, the fury at the injustice of my existence only fueling the confusing emotions. I desired Izgath, something that was forbidden, compounded by the deadly risks that accompanied it.
Shaking my head, I lifted my gaze away from my trembling fingers only to discover the male striding down the street. His head swiveled as if he were searching for something—for me. Swallowing, I pressed myself harder against the smooth stone, hoping he wouldn’t find me. My head spun with too many worries to let him closer, despite our obvious attraction and the growing tension between us, only heightened by his discovery of the real me a few days prior.
He paused, spinning a slow, assessing circle, and I called on what little magic I had left to blend myself into the long shadows cast by the buildings. I didn’t have the power to render myself fully invisible, but a fuzziness around my form would do. Izgath’s eyes drifted closed, roving beneath his lids. The sun broke through the clouds for a moment, caressing his slightly upturned face. My breath hitched as the light cast his masculine features in stark relief. As the sun moved along, so too did Izgath until he disappeared from my view.
I waited another minute before dropping my shadows and pushing off the wall. As I emerged from the alley, I scoured both directions, ensuring no one was watching my emergence. Then I slipped along the musty, foul smelling street, heading in the direction of the guesthouse that held my private room.
By the time I reached it, the fog clinging to my thoughts had cleared slightly, though my magic was waning from the turbulent emotions swirling through me. Wiggling the key in the lock, I opened the door and leaped into the space. I closed and secured it with more care, not wanting to be heard. Then, I dropped my hold over my magic and returned to myself. Rolling my shoulders and stripping immediately, I relished the feeling of being in my own body again.
