Page 32 of Consort

After making a small bowl with my hand, I pour some water into it. I raise it to her mouth, and as soon as my skin touches her lips, they part. Tilting my hand, I let the water trickle into her open mouth. Once the cool liquid reminds her how thirsty she is, she grabs my wrist with both of her hands and finishes the rest. Her eyes stay on my face as I refill my hand, and she drinks, only in this way, until she’s satisfied.

“I won’t leave you again,” I whisper. “I promise, I’ll stay.”

She huffs at me, making a smile tug at my lips. I mean what I said, though. I’m here to stay. When we part, it will be because she doesn’t need me anymore. Not because I was stupid enough to leave her side again.

Chapter 12

Rue

I drift out of a vivid dream, still wrapped in its lingering warmth. The fever I passed out with is now a distant memory. I can barely remember the pain. The scent of sweet crescent nuts and fresh-cut wood surrounds me, and I’ve never felt more at peace.

Images of the fading dream flicker in my mind. I grasp at them as they slip away, trying to hold onto at least a few. The ones I manage to catch are just pieces, but they’re enough to make me blush. There’s a stunning, blue-eyed fae kneeling before me, with pointy ears and skin the color of bronze. So much skin... His strong hands gently remove my garments while I find myself gripping fistfuls of his bright blue hair.

A puff of air on my face jerks me awake, shattering any hope of remembering more. My heart pounds in my chest, and tremors take over my body as I realize I’ve not been sleeping alone. I hold my breath and force my eyes open to see what’s breathing on me. But it’s not a what, it’s a who. And it’s clear that the visions I was catching were actual memories, not fever dreams.

The same fae lies beside me with his face mere inches from my own; the same bright blue hair, same stunning face, same long, pointy ears. Despite his incredible beauty, being this close to a fae is terrifying. My instincts scream at me to get up andrun. But that would wake him. And as long as he’s sleeping, I’m safe. A few slow, deep breaths help, but I have to close my eyes to convince my body I’m not in immediate danger.

There’s time to come up with a plan while he’s occupied with his own dreams. The thought of what he might be reliving makes me cringe. I have no idea how much there is that I can’t recall. Considering his presence and the soreness I have in places I shouldn’t, the only thing clear to me right now is that I wasn’t poisoned by the innot. I was in heat.

But why? And where the fuck are we? I glance around, taking in a gray cave with slivers of light peeking through cracks in the stone. I vaguely remember stumbling through a dark corridor. It must have led me here. At least I made it somewhere safe before the innot caught up to me. Or worse–someone from my pack.

This fae, however, is far from safe. His scent may bring me a sense of calm like nothing I’ve ever experienced, but it’s just a trick. It’s obvious what he did to me, and there’s nothing safe or comforting about it. And what’s next? Will he laugh and finish me off when he wakes? Or trap me here until I have another heat he can take advantage of?

I should acknowledge the fear still sloshing around in my stomach, but now, all I feel is rage. He used me while I was helpless. He took advantage of my weak Omega body. I shouldn’t be clinging to the few memories I have of him. I should be trying to purge them all out! He’s just like an Alpha. Big, strong, selfish, anddisgusting.

I vibrate with fury beneath the arm that’s draped over me, stirring him from his sleep. He blinks open his eyes and looks lost for a moment. Then, a smile spreads across his face. It looks more serene than sadistic. But I don’t trust it. And I don’t fucking like it.

He props himself up on one elbow, still with that infuriating grin. I slip out from under his arm and scoot back against thecave wall, hiding my body beneath the cloak we’d been sharing. My face burns with a fresh dose of rage when I realize how pointless it is to hide. He’s already seen everything I have.

I don’t give a shit if he’s lying there just as naked. I never wanted this.

He doesn’t come after me, but his smile falls as he realizes his fun is over. His bare skin all but glows in the dim light, tempting my eyes to hunt down every shimmer. But my chest is burning with anger at what he took from me, so I keep my eyes firmly planted on his face.

“I’m Durin,” he says calmly.

My body deflates at the sound of his voice. A sense of calm and relief warms me from my chest all the way down to my bare toes. A voice shouldn’t have that effect. It makes no sense. Perhaps it’s not his true voice. Fae can glamour their looks. I’m willing to bet they can glamour their voices, too. His fake voice won’t trick me. Or the perfect lines of his fake body and flawless angles of his gorgeously fake face.

He was able to seduce me during my heat, but that’s no real accomplishment. I’m sure any male could manage that with a feverish Omega. It won’t happen while my mind is clear. I need to leave. Or find a way to get him to. I glare at him, fighting off the effects of his voice and letting my rage build once again.

“You don’t need to fear me,” he says, still unbothered by his nakedness. “I heard your cries and came to help. This…” he starts, looking down at his body, “was the only way you’d allow me.” He lifts his eyes back to mine and frowns. “I’m sorry if I’ve upset you. I can go.”

He stands and calmly gathers his clothing. For some impossible reason, my heart lurches at the thought of him leaving. Seconds ago, I hated him and wanted him gone. Why does hearing him offer to make it happen feel like a threat?

I’m confused. This is probably a trick of some kind. I pushaway how wrong it feels to let him leave and try to read his face as he dresses. It reveals nothing. It’s flat. Stoic. Whatever he’s thinking is locked away as tightly as my memories of him.

A growl builds in my chest, and I have to clench my jaws to keep it from storming out of my mouth. I’m sickened by what he’s done to me, but I should be grateful he’s letting me go. It’s a mercy I doubt many shifters have been gifted by a fae. I sit stiffly, biting my tongue while he finishes dressing at a much slower pace than I’d prefer.

When he’s finally finished, he carries over a jug and a small cloth bundle. I want to keep my eyes on his face, but the scent of meat tugs my gaze down as he opens the flaps. There’s not only meat, but also some crumbly chunks of cheese. I suddenly feel on the brink of death and grab the bundle from him. I shovel every bit of the food into my mouth, choking as I practically inhale each bite.

When it’s gone, I drop the cloth and rip the jug out of his hands. I tilt it back and carelessly gulp the water down. It spills over the rim as I drink, cooling my cheeks and chest as it trickles down my face. When I finally feel satisfied, I look up to see the fae smiling again.

He’s laughing at me. I must look ridiculous. I realize I let the cloak fall and yank it back over myself, glaring at him.

“You should leave,” I croak, jolting at the roughness of my voice. I shake it off and narrow my eyes at him again.

He tries to resume his blank expression, but a hint of his smile remains. “It’s nice to hear you speak.”

Ah yes. The mindless silence of an Omega in heat. Omegas only know three words when they have the fever:knot,please, andAlpha. That’s common knowledge among shifters. It’s good, though. It means I didn’t reveal anything to him that he could use against me.

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