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Aron doesn’t come back into the room, so I guess we’re done. I fight back a blush—and irritation—as I move to a side table and give myself a quick bath to try to get rid of the sex smell. I adjust my clothing, fix my belt, and pace around the room until I’m sure my nipples won’t be taking out anyone’s eyes.
When I feel mostly like myself again, I emerge from the room.
Immediately, it feels like a mistake. Solat is by the door and does his best to pretend that I’m not here. Markos avoids eye contact, and Kerren’s face is tomato red. Vitar keeps clearing his throat. Only Yule
Awkward.
I take my seat next to Yule
“Give them time,” Yule
It’s like she read my thoughts. “What?” I feign ignorance. “Time for what?”
“They have considered you one of them,” she says easily. “Another soldier in Aron’s army, of a sort. Now they realize that you serve him in an entirely different way.”
My cheeks get hot. I’m not sure if I’m offended at her “serving him” comments or if I’m baffled that it took Markos, Vitar, Kerren and Solat this long to figure out that Aron and I have a rather…tumultuous relationship. “And you? How do you feel about this?”
She shrugs, biting her thread off. “He’s a god. He takes what he wants, women included.”
And suddenly I’m no longer feeling secure in my position. I no longer feel like Aron’s Faith, because I remember his other Aspect—the Aron of Lies—slept with Yule
“You don’t have to worry,” Yule
“Because I’m his anchor,” I agree, and the thought doesn’t sit easily with me.
“Mmm. Is that all it is?” Yule
I have no answers. I stare at her for a moment longer and then pick up my sewing. At least if my hands are busy I can pretend to be focused.
Right now, though, I can’t think of anything but Aron and his hands. Aron slapping my pussy and saying that it belongs to him. The heat in his eyes.
The hard length of his cock under his clothing…and the way he pushed me away.
We stay in Novoro for two more days after that, and during that time, I see very little of Aron. At first I think he’s avoiding me, but as Vitar and the others cycle through their guard duties, I realize that they’re spending time with Aron and the Novoran suppliers. I hear talk of mounts and blankets, tents and weapons. Food supplies. We’re preparing to leave, and I’m relieved.
Relieved, and a little frustrated.
After our torrid moment in my chamber, Aron’s only returned when I’m sleeping, and left before I woke each time. The only reason I know this is the vague realization as I sleep that someone’s next to me, and the indention of a large body in the blankets next to me when I wake. I know part of it is because he wants to “resist” me. It doesn’t mean my feelings aren’t hurt, though. Or that I don’t miss him.
Because I miss Aron terribly. Even though he’s arrogant and a jerk and impossible, he’s my friend and my protector. He’s the only person I completely trust to have my back, and the only person I feel I can be completely open with.
He’s mine as much as I’m his, and I miss him.
I’m tired of being in this place, too. They’ve been monopolizing Aron and because he doesn’t want me around them, I’ve been confined to these rooms. Granted, they’re nice rooms, but I miss his company. So I’m more than ready to leave Novoro once and for all.
Servants arrive with warm cloaks and tailors fit me for new, warm traveling clothing to go over the mountains. They confirm what I already know—the tournament is over and Aron has made it clear that it’s time for him to move on. After that, it’s a whirlwind of fittings and packings, and feasts for Aron as they celebrate him. Again.
No wonder he wants to move on. He can’t get shit done around here because they want to party constantly.
On the morning of the third day after my cataclysmic rendezvous with Aron, he returns to my rooms just as Yule
His gaze immediately sweeps past Yule
“Hi,” I say around a piece of toast. “Are we leaving now?”
Aron nods. “Dress warmly. There is a storm coming.” He eyes me again, and then adds, “Can you be ready to leave once you finish eating?”
“Yup.” I get to my feet, licking my fingers. “I’ll have them pack up my breakfast. Come on, Yule
“My lord of Storms,” a familiar voice calls from the hallway. “I have heard rumor that you are leaving our keep? Surely not now, with a snowstorm on the horizon?”
Irritation flashes across Aron’s features, and his jaw clenches. I recognize Lord Secuban’s voice an instant before he comes into my rooms. I get the impression Aron is equally tired of Lord Secuban, because I can see his face practically shutting down as the man moves to his side.
“Did I invite you into my concubine’s private chambers?” Aron asks coldly, not looking over at Lord Secuban.
Both Yule
“I apologize for the intrusion,” Secuban says, not moving from his spot at Aron’s side. He totally does not realize how in danger he is. I’ve seen Aron kill men in an eyeblink for less. “But I must speak to you. Stay in Novoro longer, my great lord. We will give you everything you need to ensure that you win your battle against the other Aspects.”
Aron’s nostrils flare. “Not necessary.”
“We have the strongest army in the mountains, my lord. No one can take this keep, and we are the sole path to the northern wastes. Here, you can defend for months. Years, if you must. And we will be your army.”
“I am not interested in taking a defensive stance,” Aron tells him with a dismissive look. “It is better to take the battle to my enemies than to wait for them to approach.”
Secuban nods slowly. “I understand. Such are your teachings. But, my lord, if you will not stay, allow me to send my army with you to protect you and your anchor. It would be the greatest of honors for Novoro.”
Aron gives a dismissive snort. “I need no army. I am a god.”
Secuban looks worried. “I have heard rumors that other gods are building armies, my lord. In Adassia—”
“I am a god,” Aron states again, his tone brooking no argument.
Secuban bows deep. “Of course. Forgive me if I overstepped.” But he looks concerned, and I realize he knows more than he’s letting on. If others are forming armies, shouldn’t we do that, too?
I bite my lip and study Aron. As much as I don’t want to travel with an army, I also don’t want to die. But the look on Aron’s face tells me that no army is coming with us, regardless.
And I’m reminded that in addition to being a god, Aron is the personification of arrogance. I hope it’s not arrogance that makes him want to set off without extra men.
Really, really not a fan of dying, after all.