He devoured her mouth and slid a finger into the band of her pants, and she gasped in shock and delight as he rubbed her just where her body was insisting it needed attention.
“I have never been . . .” She shuddered, pressed closer to increase the sensation. “Don't stop.”
He bent his head, latched on to the tip of her breast and she made a sound at the back of her throat as she arched to give him better access.
She fumbled with her hand, wrapped it around the hard length of him, and it was his turn to groan.
Suddenly a feeling washed over her, shaking her to her core as she shuddered, blind and deaf for a moment, before she collapsed, panting against his shoulder.
“More,” she said, and then bit down on the tendon between his shoulder and neck.
He lifted her, stripping her trousers, and fumbling with his own.
“You said you have never—” He groaned as she aligned her center against the tip of his cock, and rubbed.
“Never felt so much.” She was ablaze for him, desperate, and overjoyed when his hands shook as he gripped her hips and lifted her up and then down on him.
It was a tight fit, and she wriggled and rocked herself down his length, delighting in the effect it had on him, until suddenly she was firmly seated, flush against him, and she shuddered at the feel of it.
She leaned forward, lips against his ear. “More.”
The muscles in his arms bunched. And he gave her more.
She didn't know how much later it was that he finally lifted her off his lap.
She drew on her trousers, sated and energized. She gave him a wide smile as she flopped back down beside him.
He lifted a hand and touched the short ends of her hair. “Why did they do this?”
“To punish me.” That was the truth, but she knew she was holding back enough that it was almost a lie.
That didn't sit well, now that she had felt him inside her.
“You said you heard something you weren't meant to. What was it that you were sent there for so long?”
She let her lips twist. “I heard the Herald conspiring against the queen.”
His shock at her answer was immediate. “How were you in a position to do that?”
She hunched over her knees, looking down as she plucked at blades of grass. “My parents were trade envoys from Grimwalt, visiting the queen at Fernwell. I was with them.” Except they were more than trade envoys. So much more. But perhaps it wasn't wise to tell the Turncoat King you were niece to the queen.
“Surely Grimwalt has protested—” Understanding lit his eyes. “That is why they've closed their border. In protest.”
She nodded. “I didn't know they had until you told me. And most likely it was more to do with the death of my parents than my disappearance. No one knew what became of me. I smuggled out a message, but I thought it had never made it to my parents. Now I know it did, and coming to rescue me is why they died.”
She looked up, caught his gaze.
“Whoever killed them—the Herald or his people—is why they died. What parent wouldn't try to rescue their child?” The words were spoken with a deep layer of empathy.
She wondered who had tried to rescue him and died trying.
Remembered he'd been in a Chosen camp.
What parent wouldn't have tried to rescue their child from one of those?
She shivered and looked up at the early morning sunlight. “We need to go.”
He nodded, rose up and held out a hand to her.
When he pulled her to her feet, he tugged her into his arms and bent his head, burying his face in her hair and inhaling her scent.
She tightened her grip on him, and then remembered his ribs.
“Your injuries.” She fought to get out from his embrace, her gaze darting to the bruising on his torso.
“My ribs were bruised, not cracked. There was only pleasure, no pain.” He held her gaze, and while she didn't believe him, he seemed no worse for it.
She sighed. “And your wounds from before? We should change the dressings and wash them, but we don't have bandages or clean water.”
In fact, they would have to find water soon. She was so thirsty, her lips were dry and she could feel the dull throb of a headache.
“We’ll find a stream. We can look at the cuts, rinse the bandages.” He started walking. “But they feel fine. Better than I would have thought.”
It pleased her to think that perhaps the working she had done on the deep cut she had sewn had spread to the others, but she doubted it had.
He was healthy and strong. And there was something other about him. A speed and coordination she thought was a kind of magic in itself.
She had been starved of companionship and human touch for two years, and now she had both, in the form of an extraordinary man.
It would be very hard to leave him.
But leave him she must.
Chapter 7
“What do you mean you can't go with me?” Luc was crouched in the stream, naked in water that came up to his neck.
Ava was equally naked, using the fine sand on the river bottom to scrub at her skin and get rid of weeks of grime, while Luc was simply waiting for the water to soften his bandages so they could peel them away.
The sky above was a deep blue, the water cool, the grass that edged the stream a vibrant green, and Luc's dark hair and light blue eyes were vivid against the warm gold of his skin.
A feel of being bombarded by sensations swept over her. She had had nothing but four stone walls for so long, and the colors, the sounds, the scents in the air, suddenly overwhelmed her.
She held out a hand to stop him saying anymore, closed her eyes and breathed.
“You're all right.” He was suddenly beside her, his arms around her and she pressed into him, letting the pull of the current, the feel of his water-beaded skin, calm her.
“I couldn't take the colors anymore,” she whispered.
“I know.”
She understood that he did know. Had probably struggled with this himself.
“I want to come with you,” she told him, eyes still closed, letting his strength hold her suspended in the water. “But I have to find my grandmother.” And then kill the Herald.
He was still, and when she opened her eyes, his gaze was on her face, serious and thoughtful. “You could send her a message.”
She shook her head. “I don't trust a message. And I want to see her with my own eyes.”
“As soon as I join with the Wave, we are going to have to start moving toward Fernwell. My capture would have already delayed us two weeks by the time I get back, and all the tribes and groups I’ve managed to collect together since we first turned on Kassia will lose some conviction if we don’t progress. I won't be able to wait for you.”
She'd guessed that. And in a way, it was better. She was not simply going to find her grandmother. She planned to hunt the Herald down and kill him, and that could take months. Luc and his army would not have that kind of time. Not with the season already changing, the leaves beginning to turn.
“I will come find you, as soon as I can.”
He frowned. Opened his mouth to speak, and before he could say something that would force her to lie, she noticed a bandage had lifted off his arm, and she caught it as it floated past.