Page 67 of Shadowlands Omega

“No.” His tone brooks few arguments. His gaze none at all. “You’ll travel with me and we will have a tail. Your brother and one other more experienced Rider. Mara,” he barks, relaying to her the plan. She’s the only female in our brigade, I note with slight apprehension. Not that I think all Riders are like the man who tried to take me on the road, but having more women in the group would make me feel safer. Even if they are Alphas.

“Do you need assistance dismounting, my Lady?” Mara asks me as she passes by. She is a white woman with blonde hair and a large birthmark below her right eye in the shape of a strawberry. She’s very pretty and I feel a little flushed as she lifts both arms to help me down.

“Mara,” Yaron barks. “Step away.”

She gives me a wink and a grin, which totally disappear when she spins on her heel to face Lord Yaron. “My Lord.” She offers him a slight bow and I notice that the other Riders are all making eyes at each other, subtle expressions of laughter passed between them. Lord Yaron should know a bit more about teasing, I think, because I’m pretty sure his Riders tease him all the time.

Yaron’s hands fit around my hips as I swing my leg over Brega’s back. As I wobble atop the horse, Yaron steps closer, his grip on my hips tightening near to the point of pain. His eyes are at my knees and he suddenly huffs and rests his forehead against them. “It will be best if we do not speak while touring the market.”

I stroke the top of his hair, concerned, but I nod, not wanting to ask him what’s wrong in public. “Alright,” I agree with a frown, because it’s really not alright.A date was too much to hope for.

I try not to feel disappointed as he lowers me from Brega’s back, making sure that the entire front of my body runs the length of the entire front of his body. I am able to stay quiet through that. I’m able to stay quiet as we walk down the boardwalk, through the chorus of shouts and orders relayed between merchants and boat captains as wares are loaded and unloaded and taken to new wagons destined for Hjiel and other places on the South Island. I’m quiet still as we walk side by side up to the towering entryway to the Night Market — two poles standing like totems with snarling faces carved into their aged wooden exteriors, colored lanterns strung between them on long thick ropes like vines. And I’m quiet as we step beneath them into a world of life and light.

And that’s where my silence ends. I squeal, “They have saffron!” I’m bouncing on the balls of my feet as I approach the first merchant, a spice vendor with piles of the bright yellow-orange herb in various wooden casks. The fragrances from his stall and so many others clash in an overwhelming combination that makes me want to spin in circles and dance. I love it all. I grab Yaron’s sleeve and drag him forward. “They bring it all the way from Ruby City. It’s wonderful in curries and breads and soups. Ooh! I can make you a saffron rice dish to die for. Can we get some?”

Yaron is frowning at me, but it’s a strange frown because it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. His eyes are glittering with mischief — or something. I’m not sure I understand this male who’s here with me now, but I’m too eager to investigate it. Especially when he nods. I clap my hands and shop.

We move on to a second spice vendor but by the third, he harrumphs. “You can’t possibly need curry spice and curry powder.”

“There’s a difference!”

“What is the difference?”

“One’s a spice and one’s a powder.”

His stoic expression breaks. He smiles and rolls his eyes. “Whatever the Lady wants,” he tells the vendor, who takes that to heart. He starts showing me everything he’s ever grown, harvested and caught and when he’s finished selling me a small garrison of spices, he waves over his brother, a fisherman, to show me his latest catch.

“I think you were wrong,” Yaron says, ducking down to speak in my ear just after he instructs Mara and Cyprus to ferry back the items we’ve bought thus far. “We do need all of the Crimson Riders with us in the market. You’re going to spend the coffers dry, my love.”

My love. I trip over a cobblestone and Yaron curses as he lunges forward to grab me above the elbow before I can faceplant in a pyramid of lemons. “Am I going to have to tether you to me, Kiandah, or are you able to walk for yourself?” He curses again when he looks down at my feet. “We are done with the food…”

“But…but we haven’t even been to the Rookery sweet meats stall yet!”

“Is that what that stench is? No, Kiandah,” he says, shaking me gently and placing me back on my feet. He takes the baskets from my arms and passes them off to my brother when he returns. Cyprus looks at the basket, shoulders sagged, rolls his eyes and clenches his teeth — he’s been shopping with me before, and he hates it. “We are going to get you better shoes.” I’m wearing borrowed boots that clatter when I walk. I don’t know whose they are, but they were given to me by Radmilla and are a size or two too large.

“If wemust,my Lord,” I say, trying not to sound as excited as I feel.

Cyprus makes a choking sound and Yaron turns to look over his shoulder at my brother. He gives him an inquisitive glance. “Tell me that shopping for clothing with this one is less maddening than shopping for food.”

Cyprus must have gotten orders not to speak at all on this trip because all he does is purse his lips into a line so thin, his full lips become an invisible smear. Yaron frowns. I laugh at the two of them and clap my hands together. Feeling light, not just because we’re going shoe shopping but because they’re making fun of me. Both of them. Together.

I grab Yaron’s hand and he starts, feet light as he lets me drag him toward the stalls selling anything you could ever hope to have in leather. “Well, if you are buying…” I wink at him over my shoulder. His expression is stern and confused and I like this off-balanced version of Yaron. “I also need new aprons, boots, and shoes for my entire family.”

“Do you know their sizes?”

“Yes. I wouldn’t be a good sister if I didn’t.”

“I’m certain that since you saved them from a burning building, that’s not the case.”

I scoff. “Are you making jokes about burning down a church?” He frowns harder and when he opens his mouth, I sense he’ll say something profound, something I can’t handle. “Do you need anything from the leather workers for yourself, Yaron?” I quickly interrupt.

He considers, successfully distracted. “Perhaps a new set of boots and vambraces. My best sets were destroyed when we…” His gaze grows hazy. My mind races. I yank on his wrist and he looks back at me and takes a long step to close the distance between us.

“Are you truly so unaffected?” he hisses.

I hesitate, unsure of what he means. “I…” He brushes his knuckles over the back of my cheek. “I feel…” I start to tell him that I am affected, but I’m not sure that’s what he means. Of course, he has to know that I’m affected. I mean — isn’t it obvious? I shake my head, try again, “I don’t feel like I did in the forest, if that’s what you’re asking.”

So out of control. So completely insane. I would have fucked anyone then, I’m sure, but I wanted it twice as much because it was him. I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life. So much that it had hurt so badly, I couldn’t have done anything else other than what I did. Took everything from him, to the point that it nearly killed me. Now, I want him, but I can use my whole head to decide the when and the how. I’m not going to fall to the ground here and…

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