Page 38 of Of Scale and Blood

Something flickered through his one good eye; recognition of my unspoken determination, perhaps? If this wasn’tDhrukita, then what in Vahree’s name was it? Ithadto be more than a bleed over from my strega ability to hear the thoughts of animals, if only because it was something that had never happened before.

He pulled Red to a halt, kicked his feet free of the stirrups, and dismounted. As Desta danced away from his movement, Mik and Yannos hurried past to grab her and Red’s reins, while Jace grabbed Kerryn’s mount. Desta was still dancing in anticipation as they were led away.

“Second Vertale,” my father said, briskly acknowledging the salutes of both men, “accompany me to the war room—it’ll be far easier on us both if you make your report in warmer surrounds. Prince Velez, I’ll talk to you in the morning, when you look less inclined to collapse with exhaustion.”

“Thank you, Commander.”

Rion nodded and walked away. Kerryn hesitated, then gripped Damon’s arm and said quickly, “Thank you, my lord, for your efforts out there. We might not have made it home otherwise.”

“There’s no need to thank me for doing what duty requires,” Damon said dryly. “Besides, your captain would have been displeased had I returned home with anything less than a full complement of men and women.”

“Indeed, she would have,” I agreed wryly.

Kerryn chuckled softly, then casually saluted and ran after Rion.

As the two men clattered up the steps, I returned my attention to Damon. He stank of sweat and blood, but at least the latter seemed to be mostly confined to the cuffs of his jacket and was a result of him cutting his arms to raise the blood magic.

“Good to see you alive and well, husband.” Though it was lightly said, it was taking every ounce of control I had not to throw myself into the man’s arms. He looked like he was about to collapse, for Vahree’s sake. The last thing he needed was my weight on top of him.

Although, given the wicked heat so visible in his good eye, maybe that was a false belief on my part.

“Good to see you awake and walking, wife,” he said in the same light manner. “I am somewhat disappointed though.”

The heat in his eye was increasing, and a smile twitched at my lips. “Over what?”

“Well, I was rather expecting a welcome befitting the manner of our triumphant return. Or, at the very least, hugs and?—”

The rest ofthatended in a slight oomph as I threw myself into his arms and claimed his lips, kissing him with all the relief and the passion that surged through me. His arms tightened around my waist, pressing me so close to his wonderfully hard length that I could feel every breath, every tremor, be they exhaustion or desire. For too many minutes, this kiss, this man, and the unacknowledged emotions that swirled between us were the only things that mattered, the only thing I wanted. Now and possibly forever, thoughthatwas a thought I quickly dismissed. I really didn’t want to contemplate such a thing as yet, even if, in practical terms, we were already forever bound.

Eventually, even the heat that surged between us was not enough to erase the bitterness of the night. He pulled back fractionally and said, his lips so close to mine I could almost taste them, “Shall we take this inside?”

“We should.” I turned, hooked an arm through his, and made an effort not to limp as we made our way back to the palace. “Although you will be bathing, not bedding. No man who smells as foul as you do will ever grace my bed.”

“Welcome home sex in the bath is perfectly appropriate.”

“There will be no sex until you have bathedandeaten.”

“You’re a hard woman, Bryn Silva.”

“No, I’m simply a woman determined to ensure her man has the appropriate strength to satisfy her. You, my dear husband, do not.”

The glance he sent my way was so damn heated my insides just about melted. “Care to test the validity of that statement?”

“Not until you smell less odorous.”

His laugh danced warmly across my skin, stirring my already needy hormones into an even greater frenzy. We hurried up the steps and walked through the doors, quickly making our way up to the next floor. But he didn’t stop—or allow me to stop—at the door into our room, instead continuing on to the thermae at the far end of the hall.

“And what are we doing here?” I asked, even though the answer tothatquestion was patently obvious. He intended to satisfy two very pressing needs in a more comfortable environment.

“I intend to bathe, as you ordered.”

“Hmmm” was all I said to that.

He chuckled softly but didn’t reply as a young bathing attendant appeared and placed two towels on a nearby bench. “May I get you anything else?”

“A scented soapweed for the prince—the greenwood, I think—and two robes. We’ll toss his clothes in the chute for cleaning and repair, so there’s no need to remain on call, Deedra.”

A small smile tugged at her lips. Couples all but requesting privacy was a scenario she’d no doubt encountered on more than one occasion. “Thank you, ma’am.”

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