Eversworn: Daughters of Askara, Book 3 (5 page)

He shifted in the saddle and swallowed the appreciative sound in the back of his throat.

Sand sprayed him as her mount skidded to a stop. “I came to see you.”

He flicked his gaze down her body. “Dressed like that?”

“It’s past midnight.” Her cheeks were rosy from windburn. “No one will notice.”

“Several males noticed.” His voice lowered to a rumble. “I noticed.”

“Well then, I apologize.” She grinned as her horse sidestepped then broke into a run.

“Wait—you can’t just…” Dillon clamped his mouth shut. She left him staring after the smooth expanse of her back, wondering what the hell had gotten into her. “Females,” he muttered, urging his horse after hers.

Her laughter floated to him, urged him on. She enjoyed running. Good. He liked to chase.

Instinct made his wings twitch beneath their glamour. He struggled to keep them confined. From the first whiff of her, they had begun tingling as blood rushed to turn his carmine wings crimson. What would she think if she saw the effect she had on him? No glamour between them.

If she had any sense, she’d run
.
Only this time, she would be wise not to let him catch her.

Fragmented bits of nightmare drifted through his mind, a warning to protect her from him.

Eliya straddled his hips, her cries of pleasure cut short by the noose he cinched around her neck. Her claws dug into her throat. Pale skin tore. Her gasps turned desperate, her gaze tagging the door. He tightened his hold, aroused for the first time since entering her rooms and terrified because of it. His hold slipped. Choking, she called for her guards. The rest…blurred.

Five minutes. Isabeau had been at the colony for five minutes and he was grasping for control. When she veered toward the stable, he followed. So did the crowd. She had dismounted and passed her reins to the stable hand by the time Diani cleared the aisle. Her smile said
I won
.

Was she oblivious to the chaos her arrival stoked among the colonists? She must be.

Once his feet hit the ground, Dillon shoved aside her admirers and stalked her into a corner. He told himself what he was about to do was for her safety. An unattached female flaunting a figure built for sin in a colony full of males—she might as well have struck a match and tossed it onto a powder keg. Someone was going to blow. Spectacle over, the crowd’s easy camaraderie evaporated. A shove here, a sharp word there as they packed into the stable. Dillon reached her first. He hesitated for a split second when she stepped back slowly. Too late to walk away now.

“Don’t run,” he warned. She wouldn’t get far.

After backing her against a stall, he lowered his head and gave the crowd time to take notice. They did, and shouts rang out until she twined her tentative fingers through his hair. He waited for common sense to kick in or an alternative to present itself, but her chin shot up and her lips parted sweet as any dream. He should have backed off, but the race fired hot in his blood. Marking her as his was a bad idea, a very bad idea. One he would regret any minute now.

“Thank you.” Isabeau stared up at him. Her scent wrapped him tight, choked oxygen from his brain.

Cupping her jaw, he angled her head how he liked and took what he wanted.

Chapter Three

Braced for a claiming to match the hard set of his jaw, I sighed into the gentle press of Dillon’s lips on mine. He made a hungry sound in his throat, and I answered. In response, he slipped his tongue into my mouth, and I shivered. Relaxing my grip, I slid my hands down his neck to his shoulders and fisted his collar, bending him to me. His pleased growl turned into a low snarl as he caught my hands and tucked them to his sides. His eyes were blind, unfocused.

I flattened myself against the wood, hands pressed against him. “Dillon?” After glimpsing the crush of bodies packed in the stable, heat sparked in my palms.
Remain calm. Regain control
.

“That was a mistake,” he said softly. I wasn’t sure if he meant my arrival or the kiss, but I could guess. He searched my face. Gone was any sign our kiss had affected him. I supposed I deserved that, but I had a limited time for causing effective distractions. “Why did you come?”

I licked my lips. They were full and tasted of him. “I came to see you.”

Bitterness suffused his tone. “My leg you mean.”

Dangerous curiosity compelled me to ask, “Had you rather I said this was a social visit?”

He rolled his shoulders. “It wouldn’t be the truth.”

“You left the consulate, I didn’t release you.” I should have kept the reminder to myself.

He wrapped his arm around my waist and trapped me by his side. “I was needed here.”

“I’m sure you were.” As I was sure his reason for leaving was to escape me.

After weaving through the thick of the crowd, his arm slid past my hip and fell to his side. His long strides ate up the ground, and I scurried to keep pace. I couldn’t afford to lose him now.

When a gust of wind tangled my legs in my skirt, I cursed my foolishness.

Any mistress could master seduction of a particular male after a relationship as longstanding as mine and Roland’s had been, but he’d forgotten I was no
sthudai
from his stable. I was a priestess whose vows of celibacy lay broken at his feet. He’d plucked me from my mother’s temple and taken me as his. He had chased me, seduced me. Dillon was all but running from me.

Whatever sparks of interest I imagined he had felt for me were snuffed out the day I chose Emma’s friendship over Harper’s safety. Dillon thought my interest in him was the lie when it had been the only grain of truth in my fabrication. Too late I realized I’d cost myself something of value—Dillon’s good opinion of me. What pittance of tolerance I’d earned back during his convalescence depended on my playing the part of impartial healer. One lingering glance, one hint of my interest in him, and our truce would crumble. But after tasting him, how could I forget?

“Are you on patrol tonight?” It explained why he’d been the one to come for me.

“I am.” His strides were long and meant to deter my much shorter legs.

Though I’d taken a tour of the colony once, it had been minimal, all the finer points glossed over in favor of keeping their secrets. I recalled where the mine’s entrance was located. It was rather obvious, being a gaping cavern offset by tents and sand. Was the salt kept there? Or would they have hidden their stores in plain sight? I measured the tents for clues, but they all resembled one another and all were the same size and shape. Alone, I stood a better chance of wandering across a sleeping family and rousing an alarm than discovering the supply’s location.

I struggled to keep pace. “Would you like company?”

His answer was sharp. “No.”

“Then can I at least check your leg?” I padded my request. “It
is
the reason I came out here.”

He stopped two steps from me, and I bounced off his back. “Is it?”

I retreated a step. “Yes.”

“If you were so concerned for me, for my leg, then why didn’t you come sooner?”

“I—” I fumbled for a reason that might wipe the sneer from his face.

“Don’t waste time thinking up an excuse. Mason told me he guilt-tripped you into coming.”

“Mason?” I hoped he found my act convincing. “I asked about you, but I always do.”

His glare said he didn’t believe me. “I’m training my replacements.” His words were clipped. “When my shift ends, you can check my leg. Until then…”

“I’m stiff from the ride.” I also had a second phase to implement. “I wouldn’t mind a walk.”

He grunted. “Suit yourself.”

With little else to do until we reached the edge of the colony, I monitored his gait. His stride was stiff. His shoulders tensed each time before his foot hit the ground. Considering how smooth his steps had been before returning here, it was easy to pin the blame on overexertion. I would speak with Harper… The thought trailed into regret. I would never speak with him again. Not about Dillon or any other colony matter. This betrayal marked the end of that casual friendship.

My fingers tangled in the cool metal of my necklace chain and crushed my rising guilt.

We all made choices. What we could live with, and what we couldn’t live without.

The uneasy feeling I was being watched made me lift my head. Hard stares from the colonists unnerved me. Part of their glares was my fault. I had dressed to entice, reasoning that if Dillon failed to succumb to my charms, then I would make my diversion another way. Which fed into the second reason such a simple ploy should work best. It was in the glitter of their eyes, the eager swipe of tongues over lips. They believed I was a female of their breed, a rarity worth spilling blood to possess. However, a brawl here and now served no purpose. Until I knew where the salt was, I couldn’t direct my would-be suitors in the opposite direction of my escape route.

“And you thought no one would notice.” Dillon sounded disgusted.

I straightened my shoulders. “It’s late. They should all be asleep.”

He shook his head. “Evanti are nocturnal. Without Askarans to pin us to their schedules, our bodies are normalizing. Nights are running later and later, the days turning shorter and shorter.”

We walked in silence for several minutes while I chewed on my thumbnail. I’d made a grave error, it seemed, by assuming the colony would sleep through my thievery and wake to what I’d done. I had discounted the fact I’d heard Evanti were once nocturnal. Not to mention several had endured the sort of horror that made sleep another form of torture. Dillon was a prime example.

His screams had woken me on several nights. When I’d confronted him, he’d denied what I knew to be the truth, and the stubborn male had stopped sleeping, opting for catnaps during the day.

I’d considered slipping soothing herbs in his tea at dinner and forcing him to rest, but it was a cruel risk if I trapped him in a nightmare and he couldn’t wake. I wasn’t willing to chance it.

“Lady,” a low voice called, the tone apologetic.

I turned. A male approached with his shoulders bunched and his head down as if to make himself appear smaller. His skin was ebony, as was his hair and eyes. His wings were dusky carmine. No glamour hummed across his dark skin.

“Yes?” Perhaps he was a placement of mine. My hand had guided several ex-slaves boarding at the consulate into this life.

Without glamour, I had little hope of recognizing him. Askarans had enslaved the exotic Evanti, and then demanded their appearance be altered to match that of their masters.
Sthudai
retained their natural state. Beauty was their purpose.
Sthudal
, laborers, were forced to conform.

This male lacked the heart-stopping beauty Harper and Dillon shared. He must be
sthudal
.

He scanned my face. “You’re Lady Emmaline’s healer?”

I glanced at Dillon, who regarded the male cautiously. “I am.”

“I’ve heard…” He lifted his hand, but Dillon’s glare made him lower it. “Are you Evanti?”

I strained to be polite. “I’m afraid that’s none of your concern.”

As if I’d given him confirmation, he grinned. “I never thought I’d see one such as you.”

I lacked the heart to tell him he still hadn’t. Shivering, I noticed I held Dillon’s rapt attention as well. Would he covet me if I had said yes? I frowned. Perhaps I had been too quick in taking offense. Or was Dillon simply guarding his territory? And his kiss meant to deter other males? This one hadn’t even acknowledged him.

“It was nice to meet you,” I said, “but it’s late for me.”

The male leaned closer, too close. Heat tingled in my palms.
Control, control, control
.

His whisper was meant to bypass Dillon I’m sure. “Would you…reveal yourself?”

I laughed. “You can’t be serious.” My reveal wouldn’t be the one he had in mind.

“Phineas,” Dillon interrupted. “You were at the stables earlier. You saw what happened when she arrived. If a female of our kind strutted around without glamour, it would cause a riot.”

The smile fell from Phineas’s lips. “I may never see another female Evanti.”

“I know.” Dillon cupped my shoulder, the gesture possessive. “But it’s not her problem.”

Silver sparked in Phineas’s eyes, and I backed up until I was flush with Dillon’s chest.

“She’s yours.” Phineas’s lip curled. “You have such wealth and refuse to share even a glimpse?”

I risked a step forward. “I am not a possession, and I’m not his.”

Dillon’s sigh brushed my ear. He’d followed me. “You’re not thinking straight, Phineas.”

“Let me touch her.” Phineas’s gaze met mine. “Once, and I’ll leave in peace.”

His arm outstretched, but Dillon captured his wrist. “It must have escaped your notice that there are no slaves in Askara. That means if you want something from someone, you damn well better ask
them
for it. I don’t own her. She’s her own person, the same as you.” He twisted Phineas’s arm, stepping into his body as he turned him from me. “You’re violating her rights and pissing me off by implying you can trade favors with me to get what you want from her.” He growled, “Don’t approach her again. If you so much as sniff in her direction and I hear about it, you’ll be expelled from this colony. Do you understand?” When Phineas nodded, Dillon shoved him stumbling forward. He found his balance and started turning. “Don’t even think about it.”