Oz almost collapsed on her bedroll, facing away from me. That was good.

Then a very groggy Lhoris tossed me the enchanted rope he kept in his satchel. I snagged it out of the air. “Because you say you liked her better that way. You have it if you need it.”

“Can’t tie up a bad memory,” I muttered. “But thanks.”

I rolled onto my side and situated my pack to use as a pillow. Lhoris laid down and tangled himself up in Oz’s limbs and placed his hands back on her hips. Low, essentially grabbing her ass. I didn’t like it. Not because I was feeling territorial. It was just fucking awkward.

Then I was just laying there staring at her back trying to remember how to breathe.

Nobody is going to hurt me.

I lifted my upper hand and almost rested it on her hip, one of my shaky fingers brushed the fabric of her cloak before I pulled back. Maybe I’d have to wait until I didn’t have a choice. Let the problem solve itself.

“You know,” Oz said to nobody in particular. “This is technically part of my territory.”

Lhoris’ voice was slightly muffled when he spoke. No doubt having buried his face in her tits. “Really?”

“I can’t tell you how many hours I’ve spent in this very spot waiting out the rain.” Her voice was getting heavy, sleepy. “There are a few other places like it in the forest, though this is the one on the very edge. I found the troublemakers liked to hide further south, so I didn’t often come to this side of the road.”

Then it clicked. The Black Elf.

“Oz,” I said, “do the local people know you?”

“No,” she shook her head. “I avoided them for the most part. If I had to go into town, I was just a frequent traveler passing through. I didn’t want the locals to accidentally out me to any of the unsavory types I was hunting.”

“So, how did you get the name?” I asked.

“My mother named me at birth,” she answered with an undertone of confusion.

“No,” I said, a grin cracking through my unease. “The name that makes the bad guys stay clear.”

Her head twitched. “I didn’t know I had one.”

“You’ve never heard of the Black Elf?”

Oz snorted. “Are you fucking with me?”

“Nah,” I shook my head and slid my bottom hand under her and dropped the upper one opposite it. “I heard some duck hunters down by the lake while I was walking with Oshruli. They think you’re neglecting your duties and run off in search of maidens to hump.”

“Pfft,” Oz laughed. “Oh, no. There were plenty of maidens to be had without leaving my post.”

Oh, this was fantastic. Way better than the ribbing I thought I’d give her for being some sort of folk hero.

Lhoris’ head shifted and I assumed he’d extracted himself form her cleavage.

“Oz. You?” he asked.

“What? It could get lonely out here, and you’d be surprised how many women are eager for the touch of another woman.” She heaved a sigh. “I was, at first. I’m tall, muscular, and attractive. I rescue them, they’re grateful. They felt safe and I …” she trailed off. “Honestly, I think most of them just wanted to be with someone that would actually please them and not make them bleed or use them up—which is unfortunately their reality.”

That took a serious turn. But I was touching her. And before I could think too hard about it, I pushed my magic through. My breathing stuttered for a moment while dread turned my stomach into knots, threatening to bring up the little bit of food I’d allowed myself in anticipation of the nausea. I did the breathing thing and turned my head into my pack.

Nobody is going to hurt me.

“That’s a sad reality,” Lhoris said. “But I’m glad you were there for each other, no matter how briefly.”

“Yeah. It was always a welcome break from solitude. My Order head, Disora, didn’t pull me off my patrol often because I have issues with authority.” She said the last few words as if they were a direct quote. “I don’t typically get on well with nobility.”

I snorted. “Shocking.”