Page 76 of Unlikely Omega

“What sort of name is that?” I say drily. The cut is bleeding over my fingers and it’s not a pleasant sensation, knowing it’s the man’s lifeblood spilling out. Plus, his scent is strong so close up, and between him underneath me and Ariadne beside me, I’m uncomfortably hard. Damn these thick, wet pants. My loose undergarments and robes were much more comfortable. I was used to them, Now my cock is trapped sideways inside my pants and it’s literally a pain in the balls.

“Tajevi Krath,” he says, matching my dry tone, “at your service.”

“Tajevi. That’s Ilthonian. The language most spoken among the ranks of the army.”

“Yeah.”

“Krath means Foundling.”

“Bravo. And why prey tell do you speak Ilthonian?”

“I’m from Iltha.”

“A southern man.” He hisses when I prod at the wound with my fingers. It’s deep but not very long, and hissing is fine. As long as he’s not screaming, I think we’re good.

“It’s where most Fae-blood live. Near the border. Ready to flee.” I prod some more. “And you haven’t answered my question.”

“I believe in the gods.” He grunts, flinches. “Careful, priest. It’s not an incense pot you’re cleaning, it’s my goddamn flesh.”

“Oh, I know. An incense pot would smell much better.” I wipe my bloodied hands on my pants and grab the hem of my shirt to tear a stripe off for a bandage.

“Will you two stop bickering?” Ariadne says. “You’re like fighting hares.”

“Hairs? Like his hair?” The stupid Commander—Taj, a voice whispers in my mind, isn’t that a nice name? Shit—grabs a lock of my hair, tugs a little.

“Hares as in animals with long ears, a fluffy tail and no brain whatsoever,” Ariadne says.

“Just like him, then,” Taj mutters and I can hear a grin in his voice. “Pointy ears and a tail between his legs. You can see how it can get confusing.”

“Damn you,” I breathe, tearing the strip off and then tearing off a second one to pack the wound. “You think you have room to talk, with those scales on your back?”

He’s quiet after that and the comeback I expected never comes. I’d feel bad for chastising him, but why would I? Like I told him, he was herding us to slaughter, and if Ariadne chooses to feast on his scent and forget who he really is, that’s her problem.

I wrap the rough bandage around his torso, which brings me chest to chest with him. “Ari,” I say, “take the ends and tie them tightly. Make a knot.”

“Yeah, Ariadne,” Taj chuckles, “be knotty.”

I just about slap the smug bastard’s grin off his face, only my hands are full.

“I don’t understand,” she whispers but takes the ends of the strip of fabric from me anyway. “What’s so funny?”

“Ignore him.” Something I can’t do. I’m eye to eye with him, or so I assume, my chest pressed to a very muscular chest, the heat of his body seeping into mine. Something tickles my cheek. His hair? His breath smells of tobacco and something sweet and bitter, like licorice.

“Done,” Ariadne says and I realize I could have drawn back the moment she started tying the knot on the bandage.

My face heating, I jerk back. “You’re good to go now, Commander.”

“I will,” he says, “when the storm passes. What about you?”

“I’m staying,” Ariadne says because she’s the most pig-headed person I’ve ever known, “until I’m sure he’s stopped bleeding before we go.”

The storm is raging around us, the stream below us a faint roar, the wind driving the water down in sheets, pushing it occasionally into the shelter, almost reaching us.

“We might as well wait for the rain to lessen,” I say. “But after that, we should run as fast as our legs can carry us because he,” I jab a finger at Taj, “and his men will be on us like hellhounds.”

He gives another bark of laughter but doesn’t contradict me.

I wash my hands clean as best I can by holding them out under the pouring rain, trying not to think that the Wildman might be lurking out there, ready to grab my hands and yank me out to eat me.

---