Page 48 of Orc's Forbidden Claim

SAYLOR

The pull between us is palpable. Invisible, but no less real or physical for its lack of visibility in the range of human eyesight. He’s gravity, attracting me to him with an inexorable draw.

It feels as if my entire body is vibrating with need for him. The conversation with Wren about my last ‘greeting’ with him flashes through my thoughts and while my cheeks burn with instant embarrassment, another part of me wants to put on a show for her. There is some dirty, suppressed part of me that, for whatever reason, craves that fantasy.

What am I talking about? I crave him period. Anyway, anywhere, and anytime. My body reacts every time he is near. Every time I even think about him there is the same little thrill of excitement and desire. A sensation that thrums in my core.

The moment breaks when he moves forward with incredible intention and speed. He crosses the room in two strides and his hands are on my waist, lifting me off the floor. I wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist.

His kiss is the relief I need, nourishing my heart and soul. Feeding the unending need for his touch, his presence, for him. His braids, bound with metal rings, rattle as our bodies meld. Our mouths move together. I lick his lips, his tusks, then I force my tongue into his mouth, laying claim to what is mine. Him. All of him.

I don’t know how long we kiss and hold each other because in our little world time holds no real meaning. It does come to a reluctant end, and he lowers me back to my feet. My hands are pressed to his chest where I feel the hard thumping of his heart. My neck aches from the strain of looking up so I can stare into his eyes. I finally relieve the strain by taking a step back.

“How was it?” I ask.

He grunts and shrugs, looking past me to where Sek’su lies on the table.

“What did the healers say?” he asks.

“They’ve done all they can,” Wren says.

Khiara moves past me but as he does, without even a glance, he takes my hand in his and I fall in at his side in the most natural way possible. We walk over to the bed. Khiara bows his head and closes his eyes. He utters something in his own language and for the briefest of moments I’m jealous. I want to know his thoughts, his words, everything. I resolve, no matter how hard it might be, I am going to master his tongue.

When he opens his eyes, he places his free hand on Sek’su’s chest. He says something else, again speaking his own tongue in barely more than a whisper. He leans over Sek’su sniffing at the bandaged wound. When he reaches for the edge of the binding Wren grabs his hand.

“What are you doing?” she asks. “The healers did all they can.”

“They are not Urr’ki,” he says.

“No, they’re Zmaj. He’s Zmaj. Why would you know more about his species than they do?”

If anyone else in any other circumstance had defied him like she is, I know him well enough to know it would not go well for them. For Wren, though, he is as patient as I have ever seen him. He nods, the motion slow and deliberate.

“This makes sense,” he says, and I see Wren visibly relax. “I do not know Zmaj as well as they do. I do know cudov.”

“Cudov… the monster that did this to him? How? How do you know more about them than they do?” Wren counters.

“I was, for a time, in charge of raising them. I know their ways and most importantly, I know the signs of their poison and ways to handle it. Only the older cudov have the poison and the way this has affected him, that was a very old one.”

“Let him take a look, Wren,” I say. “What can it hurt?”

Her face is a mix of worry, regret, and confusion. She subtly chews the inside of her cheek. A habit she hates if anyone points it out to her, but I know it means she’s thinking hard. Finally, she nods and lets Khiara pull the bandage back.

The area does look better but there are still black veins that form a spiderweb across his chest. His breathing hitches as he inhales and shudders as he exhales. Khiara sniffs around the wound then carefully places the bandage back in place.

“Well?” Wren asks. Khiara shakes his head but doesn’t answer. His frown is deep though, deep enough that I know it’s not good. “Khiara… how… how bad?”

Her voice quavers and my heart breaks for her. I move quickly around the table to my friend’s side and put an arm over her shoulders. Khiara sighs and shakes his head again.

“There is a way,” he says.

“What? What is it? What do I need to do? I’ll do it. Tell me.”

Wrenlee goes into full on Ice Queen mode. Her face changes, her posture, all of it stiffening, becoming colder and more than anything, certain. The doubts, the fears, those all belong to the girl inside. The Ice Queen knows none of them.

I watch it happen as I have so many times before and as has happened every time I watch it there is the smallest twinge of jealousy. The Ice Queen is in control. Nothing affects her, she affects the world.

“It will not be on you,” Khiara says, not taking his eyes off of Sek’su so he misses the change in her. He looks up and seeing her, his brow furrows while his eyes dart over to me then back to her. “You can help though.”

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