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A short time later, our woale is tied to a tree a fair distance from the road, grazing. My bag is filled with small rocks and hangs heavily over my shoulder, and clacks so loudly that I have to press it against my chest to keep the stones from banging against one another.
I’m also covered in mud from head to toe, and because it’s chilly, I’m wearing the darkest cloak I own. I look like a mess, but I do blend in the shadows at least.
We head carefully through the woods, moving slowly, Aron lifting me carefully over craggy spots of terrain where the uneven ground falls away in a rocky crevice or two. It seems to take forever, but then I can smell the campfire on the breeze and hear the low murmur of voices.
We’ve arrived.
“This tree is good,” Aron murmurs, pointing at a tall, leafy bastard nearby. I see the branches don’t start until about five feet up, maybe more, which means I’m going to need a boost.
I suck in a breath and then nod. I want to complain and whine, but that won’t do any good. I’m just scared, but Aron promises he’ll make sure I’m safe, and I have to believe that he’s right and it’s not just arrogance talking. I pull the heavy bag of stones off my shoulder and then set it carefully on the ground. “You’ll have to pass that up to me.”
He nods, and then cups my filthy cheeks as I look up at him. “Stay safe, Faith. I need you.”
I gaze up at him, at his beautiful, godlike face and stern features. Coming from any other man, I would think that’s practically a declaration of love, but Aron’s impossible to read. I just nod and move toward the tree.
Aron grabs me by my waist and lifts me overhead as if I weigh nothing, and I manage to flail enough to grab the limb with my feet and heave myself up. Once I’m settled, he hands me the bag carefully, and I loop it over my shoulder, then begin to climb. I move higher and higher, trying not to look down because I’m too high up to fall safely. I mean, sure, I fell from a large height when we were escaping Tadekha’s floating city, but I also landed on Aron. If I crunch to the ground here and break something, the wizard—and Liar Aron—is just going to put me down like a crippled racehorse.
I shake that image out of my head, then climb a bit higher. Once I’m safely hidden amongst the leaves, I peer down and look for Aron. He nods up at me and then gestures off into the distance, indicating where he’ll be hiding.
I give him a thumbs up and then pull out my first rock, studying the small camp. It’s visible given how high up I am, and I can see everyone.
Aron’s right, the fire is small. Beyond the cluster of tents, I see men in armor with sword belts, standing around and talking. There’s one guy in robes and a short, black beard who looks like every cliché of a wizard ever.
I peer into the shadows, pulling a rock into my hand even as I do. I have to admit, I'm less interested in the soldiers and more interested in seeing the other version of Aron. Is he going to look the same? Will I automatically know it's the wrong one? I scan the soldiers' faces and as one laughs and takes a pull from a small metal flask, I realize they are completely relaxed and have no idea we're here. Good. Silently, I encourage the one to keep drinking. A drunk guard will be easier for us to take down. I rub my fingers on the edge of the rock in my hand, trying to decide the best moment to throw.
Something rustles in the bushes below my tree. I freeze, my free hand clutching my bag of stones against my belly so they don't clack against one another. A guard? Have I been discovered?
To my surprise, a woman emerges. She's got long, curling ropes of dark hair that swing to the middle of her back, and even though it's night and slightly chilly, she's wearing a filmy dress that clings to her curves as she walks and sets off her dusky skin. And Jesus, she's got some serious curves. Her tits are enormous, each one pendulous and sways with her steps, and her waist is tiny, corseted by a girdle that seems little more than a belt. Her hips are rounded and I'm acutely envious of her figure. This must be the concubine. Damn. This group doesn't play around, because she is utterly gorgeous.
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 thi
"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.