Page 123 of Oath of War
Ari pulled the doors wide open, and I couldn’t suppress my gasp. The room was beautiful.
An enormous window, glazed with mountain crystal, framed the sprawling city below. Its lights, many and bright, twinkled like stars, reflecting the sky above. Beyond the city, the sea stretched out, waves crashing against the shore. Even from here, the soft hum of wind and water seemed to pulse with the world’s heartbeat.
Orm stepped across the threshold with a proud smile, almost as if carrying his new bride, but I immediately gestured for him to set me down. The floor, made of polished granite with veins of gold and quartz, was warm beneath my feet, and soft plush rugs cushioned the rest of the space. Along one wall stood a massive bed, large enough for three—if not more.
‘Agnes moved your belongings over while we were at the Solstice Ball. Mine and Alaric’s were already here,’ Orm explained, shifting on his feet, his coy smile at odds with his burly frame. ‘I hope you like it. But you can change anything you don’t.’
I stood speechless, my gaze flickering over the room. Dragon-rider armour and weapons, along with a desk covered in reports, took up the entire south corner. Alaric’s daggers hung neatly on a rack, and several shelves of books caught my eye, my fingers itching to explore them. My own belongings and weapons were neatly displayed in an open wardrobe that looked to be worth ten times the entirety of its contents.
The room was perfect, but it felt too grand for me, especially since some people were still camping in tents next to ruined houses.
‘It’s so beautiful,’ I said, my voice barely above a whisper. ‘Where did this all come from though?’
‘The vault,’ Ormond replied. ‘We kept everything we couldn’t sell, or what Ari insisted was part of Ozar’s heritage. And before you ask, yes, I’ve seen to the people. Riders went out with sacks of gold to buy food and supplies, and the Dagome army is already rebuilding houses. But this,’ his hand swept around the room, ‘this is for us. The upcoming months will be difficult, and I wanted to create a space where we can leave the world behind and just rest. No titles, no duties, just peace. Just us.’
I opened my mouth to protest, but the sincerity in his eyes silenced me. ‘You’re impossible,’ I muttered, before breakinginto a grin. ‘Utterly impossible. It’s the best bedroom I’ve ever had.’
Orm laughed as I leapt forward, stealing a quick kiss before running to the bed and throwing myself onto it with a delighted squeal. As I buried my face in the plush pillows, I heard Alaric’s low voice behind me.
‘She seems pleased,’ he said before turning to whisper something into Ormond’s ear.
‘Good,’ Orm said, his tone carrying a hint of mischief.
I propped myself up on an elbow, narrowing my eyes at the two of them. ‘What are you two whispering about?’
Orm turned to me with a playful smirk. ‘Your feet don’t seem to hurt anymore.’
‘They don’t,’ I admitted, watching as Alaric stepped closer, his hands moving to the buttons of Orm’s shirt. My breath hitched at the sight of his deliberate, graceful movements.
‘What are you doing?’ I asked, my voice faltering.
‘Getting ready for bed, of course,’ Alaric replied smoothly, his bright hair catching the light as he slid the shirt from Orm’s shoulders. His eyes locked with mine, a teasing smile playing on his lips. ‘Unless you’d rather I stop?’
I swallowed hard, heat rising to my cheeks. ‘That’s not what it looks like.’
‘Oh?’ Orm said, his tone heavy with amusement. ‘And what does it look like?’
Before I could answer, Alaric turned his attention back to Orm, his hands trailing down the muscular planes of his chest. ‘What do you think, Domina?’ he asked, his voice low and intimate. ‘Do you like what you see?’
‘Yes,’ I breathed, the word slipping out before I could stop it.
Orm’s gaze darkened, a command lingering in his expression. ‘Then tell him what to do.’
The air between us thickened as I sat up, my heart pounding. ‘Kneel, Alaric,’ I said, my voice trembling with both nerves and anticipation. ‘And touch him.’
‘Yes, Domina,’ Ari murmured, sinking gracefully to the floor. His nails traced a deliberate path along the seam of Orm’s trousers, pausing just before he reached the laces.
‘I’m too overdressed,’ I muttered, tugging at the collar of my gown, the growing heat inside me threatening to consume me. Orm’s hand rose in a silent command, halting me. His other hand gently brushed through Alaric’s white hair, his touch reverent yet possessive.
‘Patience, my love,’ Orm said with a knowing smirk, his gaze locked on mine. I knelt on the bed, my hands curling into fists as I watched them. The moment Alaric loosened the laces, Orm’s shaft sprang free, and with a steady hand, Ari took hold of him. His first stroke was slow and exploratory, bringing the thick, hardening flesh to his lips.
‘Taste it, Keresik,’1 Orm growled, his fingers tangling in Alaric’s hair, tilting his head at just the right angle.
The sight stole my breath.
Orm’s back arched in pleasure as Ari took him deep, his skilled tongue and lips drawing a guttural sound from the commander. Orm’s thumb brushed Ari’s cheek in a fleeting, tender motion, even as his hips began to move in deliberate rhythm. A quiet moan escaped my lips, and my hands instinctively moved, seeking relief from the growing ache between my legs.
‘Oh gods,’ I whispered, my body thrumming with need as an undeniable wave of desire coursed through me.
