Page 75 of The Assassin's Promise
“In heat,” I finished. At this point, anyone could tell. “Talon, thank you.” My mate’s whimpers, and the answering pain in my abdomen stopped me from saying more. “Where is she?” The only answer was a moan that emerged from underneath the bed.
Talon whispered from where he stood, unwilling to come closer. His jaw was clenched. “She’s hiding from Gullen’s men. Branton and I will stand guard outside, as close as we can. Branton, you’ll have to stay closer; it’ll be a hell of a lot harder for me to keep away. I’ll go to the far end of the courtyard. Damn, this is going to be torture.”
Branton stepped outside, and I growled as Talon’s eyes stayed fixed on the bed. Though neither of us could see Roya, her scent told us where she was. And what she needed.
“Why will it be so much harder for you?” I wondered aloud.
Talon’s amber eye shot to mine, and the strain there was mixed with humor. “You try not having sex for forty years and see how you feel, smelling an Omega in heat.”
Forty years? I was still sputtering when he left the room.
A weaker whimper sounded, and something in my heart felt like it was tearing. “Roya!” Was she dying?
I scrambled to the floor, reaching under the low bed, feeling for any part of her I could grasp. The bed was wide, but I connected with her arm, and pulled her gently out from under the mattress.
She was a mess, her hair wet with sweat and hanging limp around her face, her skin flushed all over as if she had been lying in the sun for hours. Her clothing dripped with sweat and… I drew in a breath. And with slick.
“Come here, darling,” I urged. “My little dove. I’ll make it better.” It was all I could do not to cry out in agony. My wyvern had already bonded to her, and had taken on her pain even without a bite, without a physical completion of our mating. I had never heard of that happening, but Omegas had been practically nonexistent for most of my life.
She couldn’t move on her own, and my heart broke for my strong, brave warrior, being reduced by her nature to this. A part of me felt as if I would be taking advantage if I had her now. A large part, in fact.
I rose and went to the pitcher of water on the table. I wasn’t sure if it was safe to drink, but I wasn’t going to use it for that. I carried it back and poured it over her, bringing the physical heat that was tearing her apart down the slightest bit.
Was it enough? I blew a breath of cool air over her, ignoring the burning ache my wyvern had taken into himself, and the pervasive scent that rose from her in an almost tangible fog of lust and need. My cock was so hard it throbbed against the inside of my trousers, but I ignored that most of all.
“Roya, listen to me. You are in heat.”
She nodded slightly, then rasped out, “I know.”
“I don’t want this…” My voice broke. I couldn’t lie. I wanted her desperately. But not at the cost of her independence, her choice. Not if it meant taking her unwillingly. I would rather die next to her.
“I don’t want to do anything you don’t want. I can’t stand for you to be in pain. I can get someone else.” I fought to come up with an alternative to me, or Talon, or Branton. “Branton,” I offered, thinking he was the best of the choices she had. “I know you won’t ever forgive me for helping Talon abduct you. But I will not steal this choice from you. Tell me who to bring. Kavin and Altair are somewhere on the island. Thorn, too. Do you want me to get Thorn?”
“No time,” she gasped. “Thorn probably… wouldn’t. Thinks I’m … a child.”
I almost smiled. Thorn in no way saw Roya as a child. But I let it go. “Who, Roya? I swear I will bring you whoever you want.”
Her breathing was shallow, just sharp pants of pain. Finally, she took a slightly deeper breath, and breathed out one word. “You.”
Her eyes hypnotized me, those impossibly gorgeous blue pools reminding me of the lagoons of my youth, the turquoise waters where my mother took me when I was young. The waters where she swore merfolk played when the moon was high.
Roya’s eyes were filled with acceptance and an almost playful glimmer. Her voice steadied as our locked gazes seemed to give her strength. “You, Icarus. I want you and your wyvern, and to be your mate. I want you to bite me, and fuck me, and then I will give you hell for the rest of our lives.”
“Our lives will be very long,” I teased, moving my hands to the buttons of her shirt. “You’ll be able to torture me for at least three centuries, Roya.”
“Ought to do it,” she said, her smile dissolving into a grimace of pain as I watched. “Now, Ick.”
“I hate that name,” I grumbled, slipping her soaked trousers down, and lifting her naked, overheated body onto the bed.
“Good,” she panted, as I removed my own clothing faster than I ever had in my life. Her hands jerked spasmodically on the sheet, and I realized with a pang that she was too weak to build a nest. “Torture starts… now, Icky Ick.”
Laughter replaced the tension that had filled the room. I thanked the Goddess for that, and for her, and for this second chance to be worthy of my mate. To be the man I could be. To help her and then save the men, those who she might choose as her other mates, who fought for her, for us.
But first I had to save my dove.
“Tell me what you need,” I whispered. “More water?” She was so hot, as if a fire burned inside her. My wyvern preened, sharing a mental image of Roya with wings like ours, her eyes filled with golden fire.
Roya shook her head and moaned a word. “You.”
