Page 61 of The Princesses of Ruin
But now…
Adrik’s hands glow with white magic, pure like his gods-be-damned little heart, and the fire in our tent burns hotter. I wouldn’t typically allow a fireinthe tent, but Adrik has proven over many cold nights that he can control the flames and the spread of heat. He directs the smoke to an outlet vent easily, keeping us comfortable without having to resort to my original plan of sharing body heat.
I’d suggested it as a joke, of course, but his rejection of my initial advance stung at first, and I didn’t understand why. Now, I do. Whether I want to admit it out loud doesn’t make it any less true.
I wish I could feel for him the way I see he feels for me. I wish I could fall for him the way I know he’s falling for me.
But I can’t.
When this is all over, I’m going home. Wolfsheim needs saving, too, and I have a promise from a certain princess to make that happen. My uncle’s army is vast, his power intense, and his ruthlessness unyielding. Usurping him is not going to be an easy task, but it must be done, and I won’t force anyone to take on the burden with me.
I turn the pair of coneys over the fire, their roasted scent making my mouth water despite my sour mood. Adrik stirs a bubbling pot of chopped roots we pulled near another hare’s den.
“Quite the meal,” I say, yearning to end the awkward silence that fell after my admission.
He hums in acknowledgement.
I play with the frayed strings on the end of my drawers. “I’ve only had better fare in the palace.”
“It’s justsvelkaand rabbits.”
He doesn’t look up from his pot, or his fire.
Fuck.
I know I shouldn’t push this. I said I didn’t want to ruin him, and I don’t. He took it as rejection and he’s staying away from me—like he should. We need to work together to get the dire wolf fur, but beyond that, there’s no need to interact. I need to just…
Let it go.
I pull on my fur-lined trousers and shove my feet in my boots.
“Where are you going?” Adrik asks, a hint of concern in his voice that I savor.
“Taking a piss,” I say, throwing back the protective flap. A burst of cold air swirls past me and I step out into the storm, closing the tent behind me quickly.
I wish I actually had to take a piss. Anything to have a reason to be out here other than my foolish cunt, yearning for a cock in it. Perhaps I could finger-fuck myself to satiety.
The thought of masturbating sparks nothing in me but frustration. It wouldn’t be enough to just get off. I want to gethimoff. I want to hear him keen my name and grunt in satisfaction. I want to feel his sweat drip onto my chest and his heavy breath washing over my face.
“Emillia.” Adrik’s voice snaps me from the fantasy.
I huff out a hot sigh that steams around my face. “What is it?”
“Are you taking a piss right there?”
I want to laugh, but laughing would let him know he amuses me. It might give us both some kind of false hope.
“I’m…checking for threats before I find a spot.”
“Oh, right,” he says, his voice a little downtrodden. “That’s smart.”
I take a few steps away from the tent, listening to the wilds around us. The wind howls through the treetops, creating a bright orange background noise that drowns out the details of the others.
Adrik taps his stirring stick against the side of his cauldron, the silvertink tink tiiingof it trying to call me back to the tent. I sense the blue wiggles of a lone shrew nuzzling into its tail for warmth somewhere nearby. The volume of the wind makes it difficult to see where, but the red howls of a wolf are within a few miles, echoing like ripples on the rushing air above me.
I take a few more steps into the trees to scan the brush and fallen logs for any heartbeats, breathing, or signs of predators. There’s nothing.
Fine. I might as well take a piss.
