Page 5 of Bound By Roses

“And how do we get the water out?” Abby asks, sounding just as mystified as I feel. Bathing under a waterfall is nothing new to me, but this is ingenious.

“You saw how I opened the door? Turning the wheel will activate the pressure that keeps water out. We have an intricate system that keeps air inside the city. It is not perfect, but so long as you do not forget to seal the door, you will not cause an issue. Can you be trusted with such a simple task?”

Her words irk me, but I elect not to comment. I may have earned the right to stay here, but Aurelia has no reason to like me. “I realize that having us here is difficult for you and your people. Thank you for giving us a chance.”

Aurelia sighs, and for a moment, her eyes look sad. “You have earned a chance in my eyes, but I cannot speak for everyone. I will do what I can to quell the upset your presence will no doubt bring. Do nothing to agitate the situation. Keep to yourselves and the dragons.” Her eyes flick from me to Abby’s left hand. “You have already caused a stir this morning, and all for a ring your mate does not wear.”

“I thought your kind didn’t know of our customs.” At least, that’s how it appeared by the almost offended reaction I got when I asked the metal worker to fashion a ring. I’d been hunting for a jeweller, but it seems after the slaughter that took place here, jewelry hasn’t been a priority. I’m still not even sure the man will make the custom ring I requested. It’s just as likely that he only agreed to do it to get rid of me.

Aurelia sets down the clothing in her arms next to what must be a jar of liquid soap. “The trouble with your mother started with a ring.” Without any further explanation, she leaves the room, shutting the door behind her and finally granting me a moment alone with Abby.

“She’s not very friendly, is she?” Abby asks.

I know she’s hoping to get a smile out of me, so I flash her a grin. It’s just like her to worry that any mention of my mother will send me into a spiral, but she’s the last thing I want to think about right now. Not her, not the wraiths, not my possible impending death.

I ignore the question and slide the lever until the water flows again. The farther I slide it, the faster the water pours. “What do you think? Want to make out in the rain or under a waterfall?”

The ache to be entwined with her again is nearly too much to bear, so I don’t object when only a soft laugh comes in answer to my question and her warm hands wrap around my arm. She tugs me away from the lever—leaving it somewhere in between—and kisses me fiercely as she unbuttons my shirt for the second time this morning.

She breaks the kiss only to pull the shirt from my head, but I catch her hand in mine and halt the movement. “We should wash our clothes, too.”

“Fine, but we don’t have to be wearing them for that, do we?”

Thank the Gods.

“Insatiable as always,” I say with a laugh that sounds far too deep with the arousal building in my throat.

I remove the shirt, and she helps me out of my pants. I’m finding it much easier to bear weight on my leg now, but I accept her help so that I don’t prematurely tear open the stitches. I can’t guarantee anything after I get my hands on her.

Once I’m naked, I rectify the situation by helping her out of her clothing. And then we just stare at each other. Just as we did the night she absorbed the crowns and found herself covered in golden vines and flowers.

I’m not looking at those this time. I’m taking stock of her injuries. Or trying to, anyway. It seems she came out of the battle relatively unharmed. She’s caked in sand and dried blood, but I suspect much of it is mine. The scent of iron has filled my nosesince last night, and if she’s injured, I might not be able to smell it. Even if I were in my wolf form, I’d likely just pick up on my own injuries.

“Were you hurt?” I ask, my voice suddenly gruff. I need to know before I touch her again. I should have made sure of it this morning, but the need to be inside her was impossible to ignore. Even now, I’m so hard it hurts.

She shakes her head but then rubs at her right arm, just beneath the shoulder, and cranes her neck in an attempt to see the back of it. “I think there’s a scratch or something on my arm.”

I close the distance between us in a single stride and turn her so her back is to me. I can’t see anything through the dark smears, so I take her hand in mine and lead her under the cascade of water. Being as gentle as I can with my now trembling hands, I wipe the area clean. Sure enough, there’s a shallow gash that could very well have been left by a sword, though she was far luckier than I was. Her wound is closing just fine on its own and won’t need stitches.

I lean forward and press my lips against it. The heavy ocean rain hits my head, flattening my hair and causing cool water to rush down my face. The water pooling beneath us turns to a brownish pink. I haven’t seen my reflection, but I can just imagine the state I’m in.

“Wait here,” I say, even though the mere thought of moving away from her is painful. She looks about ready to stop me, too, as I climb up the steps to collect the bottle of soap.

I lather some in my hands before rubbing it against Abby’s chest and shoulders, washing away all traces of war. The soap has an odd smell to it, and I can’t help but wonder if this too came from a sea creature. At least this one doesn’t sting.

“My turn,” she says, her voice breathless as she takes the bottle from my hands. The instant her fingers brush across my skin, I relax into her.

And then we’re kissing.

I don’t know how it happened or which one of us instigated it, but I don’t care.

My leg is beginning to hurt again, what with whatever that pain reliever was being washed away with the blood and sand, but I ignore it. Scooping Abby up in my arms, I carry her out of the stream of water. She wraps her legs around my waist and I can feel the jolts of pleasure that run through her whenever she presses herself deeper against my already throbbing cock.

Fuck, I need to take her. Right here, right now.

I look around, desperately searching for the most comfortable option for her. Nothing looks all that promising and with my leg…

“Quinn,” Abby gasps, and there’s so much need in her voice. My name was a plea.

---