Page 77 of Slaying the Shadow Prince
Slightly baffled, Drue chuckled at her friend’s assertive nature and threw her bedroll down. Taking Adrienne’s canteen as well as her own, she exited through the rear of the tavern. Outside, night had truly fallen. Only a sliver of moon remained, leaving the rest of the sky a dark blanket punctuated with stars. Drue realised with a start that she’d had no grasp on the hour as she tucked the canteens under her arm and struggled to remove a torch from its outer wall sconce. Everything had happened so quickly – the conversation with Talemir on the way back from the raider stronghold, Adrienne’s arrival and all the planning afterward.
The Warswords and Adrienne worked nicely together: both efficient and brutal with their strategies. Which was just as well, because the image of those poor people trapped in that cage flashed before her eyes and Drue’s stomach squirmed with guilt. She had hated leaving them there both times. But she’d known Talemir was right. To attack would have meant risking their lives. Instead, she clung to the fact that the surveillance they had done was going to pay off. She was confident about their raid tomorrow. With Adrienne and the Warswords leading the Naarvian forces against inexperienced rebels, what could go wrong?
At last she dislodged the torch and held it before her, illuminating the narrow path to the well. Like the rest of Naarva, the land behind the tavern was overgrown with wild vines, and Drue batted away stray branches and webs of spider silk as she made for the water source.
But when she reached it, she was not alone.
With a torch of his own stuck in the earth at his feet, Talemir stood at the well’s edge, hauling the bucket from its depths, his mother’s sapphire glimmering as it knocked against his chest.
In the soft glow of the torchlight, Drue was reminded again of not just his sharp handsomeness, but his true beauty. Some of his hair had escaped its knot and hung down around his face, brushing the tops of his stubble-covered cheeks, his large hands reeling up the rope from down below.
‘What are you doing out here?’ he asked by way of greeting.
‘Adrienne asked me to fetch some water for her…’
Talemir huffed a laugh. ‘Did she now?’
‘Why?’
He gestured to the handful of flasks at the foot of the well. ‘She told me to do the same.’
‘Meddlesome woman,’ Drue muttered.
‘I can always leave if you’d prefer…’
‘No.’ The word flew from Drue’s lips too quickly.
Talemir smiled and took the canteens from her hands, his fingers brushing hers, sending a bolt of anticipation through her, bringing their last private conversation to the forefront of her mind once more.
I want to make you come so hard you forget your own name.
Drue held her breath as she watched Talemir fill the flasks. Every movement was confident, precise, his battle-honed body almost looking out of place doing something so mundane as fetching water from a well. He was born for wielding a blade, for slaying monsters and making women —
Drue stopped herself from finishing the thought. It was not for a ranger to say what a Warsword, or a half-wraith, had been born for.
But even so, the energy between them grew taut – unbearable.
When Talemir offered the vessels back to her, Drue couldn’t stand it any longer. With her whole body suddenly on edge, she set them down and closed the gap between herself and the warrior, wetting her lips as she gazed upon him.
And gods, that face… His chiselled jaw, his hazel eyes, his slightly crooked nose and the way his expression softened at the sight of her… It made her want to grab hold of him and not let go.
Instead, Drue rested her palm on his sculpted chest, feeling the staccato beat of his heart beneath. ‘I’ve been thinking about what you said…’ she ventured.
Another slow smile spread across Talemir’s lips. ‘Have you now?’
‘Yes.’
‘And?’
Drue stood on her tip-toes, leaning in so that her breath mingled with his. ‘And I want you to do those things. I want you.’
Talemir went incredibly still. She wasn’t sure he was breathing, but his eyes were ablaze with desire. ‘Are you sure? Even with everything you know? Everything you’ve seen?’
‘I like what I’ve seen,’ she told him, her voice low and sultry, her hand reaching for what she knew strained against his pants —
He gripped her wrist gently, stopping her. ‘You know that wasn’t what I meant.’
Drue hesitated, frowning and trying to read his now unreadable expression. ‘Has something happened? What changed since our ride?’
