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Pellia entered my tent again as if she belonged in it and is presently doing her nightly rituals, once again rubbing a sweet smelling oil into her skin, her hair already up in its silken wrap. I’ll admit that even in the scant two days that we have been traveling, I am getting used to her presence. Having her close soothes something in me that is restless when she is out of sight.
Finishing her routine, Pellia turns and smiles at me. I wish she would stop doing that and yet I know I would miss her happiness if it was gone.
“You know,” she says, “If we are to be lovers, perhaps we should try doing things the Orikesh way.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, ignoring the way my heart seemed to skip a beat when she said “lovers.”
“Should you not, I don’t know . . . thrum? Isn’t that what it is called?”
I am taken aback. “How do you know about thrumming? Aboutsibilance?”
“We had a demonstration,” she replies in the easy way of hers, as if she has no cares. “Before the king and queen’s Bride Chase. It was quite thrilling. I enjoyed it immensely, and they said it was something the orcs did during the courting stages of a relationship. So shouldn’t you do it now?”
She doesn’t say that we are only trying to look as though we are courting, but I suppose we cannot trust where there might not be ears to listen to us. But she is mistaken in her assumptions, or at the very least, it was not explained to herwell.
“Thrumming is not for courting,” I say bluntly. “It is for seduction.”
She steps close to me, a hand coming up to the bracers on my arm, touching me lightly, “And do you not wish to seduce me?”
“Why do you need to be seduced when we are already lovers?” I prevaricate. I do not tell her that, because of my siren mother’s heritage, mysibilanceis stronger than most. If I thrum, we almost certainly would fuck. Or at least she would beg me to do so.
Her hand trails up my forearm to my bicep, a teasing touch leaving fire in its wake. “Every woman wants to be seduced,” she says, a slight smile playing at her lips, even as her eyes tell me she is earnest. “Perhaps I want to fully experience what it is like to have you in my bed, Verrick.”
She looks up, and I read in her gaze a wealth of promise. She is being serious, and this is a serious offer. Pellia bites her plump lip and waits for my answer, something like hope shining in her eyes.
This is the most bold she has been with me. There was our exchange by the river this morning and she has flirted a few times, but never has she been so open. But I knew that this is what she wanted. Even before we played at lovers, she has always shot sly glances and winks my way, her eyes full of approval for my form.
So the little human wishes to be seduced? Part of me longs to fulfill her desire, to drag her into my bed without pretense and take her in as many ways as our bodies will allow. To thrum in the ways of my father with the strength of voice given to me by my mother. I know that our fucking would be exquisite. But her small hand on my arm reminds me of another’s hand. Another time. Another woman.
Lucy, who taught me that fragile, beautiful human women are not to be trusted. That smiles can hide a wealth of lies.
So instead I step back and say, “That would be a bad idea,Regent Santir.”
For a moment, I think I see a shard of hurt in her eyes, but it is quickly replaced with a teasing grin, “Are not bad ideas the most fun?”
“No,” I reply firmly. “They are the ideas that lead to the most destruction.”
“Huh,” she steps back, an assessing look in her eyes, even as a smile still plays at her lips. Then she whispers conspiratorially, “I have never had to actually convince a male to join me in my bed. You are a challenge.”
“I assure you, I am not,” I say back softly, cognizant that there may be listening ears. “You would do well to find someone else to warm you. Our current arrangement must stay what it is.”
And I will try not to kill the other male when her smiles stray from me and land on another,I think.
“Ah, but I do not give up easily,” she replies quietly with a touch of teasing in her voice. Then her voice raises to regular volume. “But for tonight I am tired and will leave you be. Fortonight.”
With that, she swishes away to behind the flap that separates her half of the tent from mine. Her ample hips sway as she walks away and I am a tortured orc. I’m being offered a night or maybe more in the bed of one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen and I am turning it down. Am I a fool? Perhaps we could be casual lovers. Pellia has not shown she wants more than my body. Perhaps it would work.
But even as I think about it, I know I am lying. If I give it any fuel, my Mating Instinct will rise again. It will tell me to take and to Claim. Such tempting fuel is Pellia, with her curves and softness, her dark eyes and long braids of black hair. If I have her even once, I will want to keep her, and keep her I cannot. How can I, when I know I can’t trust her?
That thought sits sourly in my stomach. It seems unfair, somehow. Though I know she is a skilled politician, I can’t help but think that she has been nothing but open with me, all heractions in line with her words. Not only that, but she has been open with me about secrets, confided in me about the Cabal contacting her, things she did not have to.
But then I think of Lucy, and my heart hardens.
I’ve been burned once. I’ll be thrice-damned before I’m burned again.
Chapter 9
Pellia
