“Please.” I shook my head at his self-pity act. “I’m half-blinded by your little nest egg over there. A resourceful fellow like you? You’ll find somewhere new to stay in no time.”

I came so close to him that the front of our shoes touched.

His arm snaked around my waist—a gentle touch that tested the waters. Then he stilled.

Whatever started to unfold between us, I knew there would be no stopping it. So, I pressed myself towards his naked chest, supplying the consent he sought. The time to go up onto my tiptoes had arrived at last.

His tongue licked at my bottom lip, offering a little nip—an encouragement to let him in. The instant I opened for him, he slid inside my mouth and cradled the back of my head with his large hand. He held me up by the other, his physical strength evident in the ease with which he executed the task.

The kiss amounted to but a brief, teasing interlude. At the same time, though, it was consummate enough to leave me hot and troubled.

“You’re dangerous,” I stated when my breathing returned to normal.

“Not at all. You have me all cautioned and remorseful.”

“Do I? Funny.” I grimaced. “You don’t look either in the slightest.”

“No? How do I look, then?” He cocked his head to one side.

I refused to go anywhere near describing his appearance, even if his shameless fishing for compliments had me amused. I wagged my finger at him.

Morhh threw back his head and laughed.

Benevolent gods, the throaty rumble of his laughter melted my insides.

“Do your Alpha tricks always work?”

“Yes.” He shrugged and brushed his knuckles along my jaw. “But I don’t need tricks with you, Little Mage.”

“My name is Tazãr—”

“Bao, yes, I know. The Exorcist Mage with the Ghadarra Division. But I’d rather call you Taz.” He nuzzled me, his lips against my cheek and then my temple. “Can I?”

Absolutely not rolled from my tongue and somehow became a hoarse, affirmative little moan.

“Now that I think of it, you’ve never searched me.” Morhh bit the tip of my ear and let his hand wander from my hip towards my arse. “Even though the search of my person was included in your order.”

“I’m surprised you’ve even picked up on that at one fleeting glance,” I said, slipping my fingers into his hair. It felt just as silky as I’d imagined. “But searching you would be a waste of my time. With the way your clothes cling to your skin, and so little of it besides, I doubt you can hide much on your person. Except for a serious hex, possession of an item or two falls under personal use and is of no interest to me.”

“Actually, Taz,” Morhh extended his vowels, smirking, “I’m hoping this one will interest you.” He reached into his back pocket and retrieved a small black talisman with silver Elven runes written across the length.

Heat rose in my face as I stared at the self-lubricating charm, my hard-on a very pressing affair against Morhh’s thigh.

He winked at me. “As I always say to my customers, don't get caught without one.”

I snorted but quickly sobered. So that was it—my last chance to throw the talisman in Morhh’s face and walk out of the door. But he had a point about it being inevitable. My choice had been made ever since I’d seen him downstairs, wiping blood from his face.

I pulled up the sleeve of my grey robes, slipped the charm out of his hand, and rubbed the parchment over my pulse point.

2

Two and a Half Years Later

The road to the Noyau Sanctuarium, Barbarian Territory

“Halt. Who goes there? State your business.” A firm voice demanded in Dhotterean.

A sigh of relief escaped me. I praised the gods for having chanced upon a checkpoint of this tribe, whose dialect I spoke well. Refraining from making rapid movements, I reined in Koryn, my gelding, and waited.