Page 27 of Tasteful Anarchy and Tangled Auras
Adelaide
“Listen, Rory, that is a shit plan.” I throw back my drink as I eye him. This fool can’t be serious.
Bryn has been gone a week now. It’s entirely more than “a few days,” and to say I’m worried would be an understatement. It’s so odd. He’s a grown-ass male who is obviously a skilled fighter and spy. But I can’t shake the feeling of needing to find him. Even if he hates me.
“Bitch, it certainly is, but it’s better than anything you’ve suggested. I’m getting us another beer.” He tosses his hair back and stands, heading toward the Chubby Sheep’s bar. I know he is worried about Bryn too. They had become friends quickly, bonding over Goddess-knows-what, seeing as they are total opposites.
Suddenly, a massive Fae is standing next to our corner table. I’d seen this guy across the room earlier. He’s larger than the average nymph, six foot four or so, andmuscular. He’s wearing a brown shirt of fine material with embroidery around the neck and intricate buttons that extend halfway down, a thick leather belt wrapped multiple times around his broad waist, and leather trousers covering his massive thighs. He has an open expression and sunny, golden blond hair that is braided intricately back, and, most interestingly, a blond beard to match, unlike mostclean-shaven Fae. He is definitely part nymph, though, and some Fae of a Northernly clime. I finish perusing him and open my mouth to address him when he does first.
“What is your name, female?” His voice is deep enough to make me shiver. His blue eyes hold an intense look as his hand shoots out and the tip of his finger gently touches the visible markings above my sweater’s collar. An electric zing rolls through me, right to my core, making a stop in my ribcage. My heart aches in time with my sex. Damn.
“Adelaide,” I manage in a breathy voice. I want this guy all over me, right now. My eyes drift up his arm, which is covered in runic tattoos. I think I see Yggdrasil too. I practically drool at his defined forearms, veins visible. Makes me wonder about other veins.
His nostrils flare, and he pulls up a chair, swinging it around and sitting on it backwards. “Mine is Osmund Idunssun.” He lifts a curl of my hair to his nose as he introduces himself. I should be insulted but I’m over here fighting against allowing my fingers to find his jawline inside that beard of his. “It is nice to meet you, Adelaide.” He blinks slowly. “You are simply exquisite, did you know that?” He tilts his head as he examines me further.
I fumble for something to say, because, honestly, no. Fae generally do not think I am exquisite.
“I can scent that you are my mate.” He taps his chest. “And I can feel it here.” He leans in and quietly adds, “And I can smell how wet you are for me already.”
Holy fuck. My legs clamp together, and, noticing, he smiles, revealing a devilishly crooked smile that causes me to beam in response. Great. I’m grinning like a fucking idiot at some Viking that can smell my pussy. Just great.
Rory appears, holding two drinks. “Ahem. Who is your new friend, and does he have a brother?”
I manage to push myself to my feet. I gotta get away from this guy. He’s making me feel some things. “Sorry, Ossy. We were just leaving.”
He stands too. “That’s why you have full beers?” He smiles. “You aren’t going anywhere without me, little female. I know better than to leave my mate unattended.”
“Mate?” Rory positively squeals with excitement. “Oh damn. I’ll leave you two to it then, but I want details later, girl!” and he plops the beers down and disappears. I stare after him forlornly. Fuck. How am I getting out of this?
Osmund’s eyes follow Rory’s retreating form with something between amusement and concern. “Why are you in public with a male? Is that your brother?” He pushes a mug in front of me as he takes the other.
I’m irked, and it shows in my tone. “What FEC are you from? What species are you? How old are you? Nymphs are allowed out with whoever the fuck they want.” I am unimpressed. My “mate,” if I believed that shit—which I don’t—is a neanderthal.
His hand wraps on top of mine over my mug. Shit, his touch feels incredible. I wonder off-handedly what color his aura is. My heart turns over and I lean towards him.
“I’m from FEC1. I’m half nymph and a descendant of Skadi. I’m one hundred and thirteen years old. And, if given my way, I’ll keep you tied to my bed, removing any need for you to be out with anyone.” His hand trails up to my wrist, gently pushing up my sleeve.
I shiver. Of course he is Norse. And descended from an ice goddess. That explains a lot. He drinks, then takes a deep breath, as though steeling himself, but it seems odd for such a guy to be nervous about anything.
He smiles tightly and stands. “We’re leaving. Your place or mine?”
Osmund
YOUR PLACE OR MINE? Am I stupid? But damn, she is ready for me, and I am not about to let her out of my sight. In ourstadiz, males are taught to recognize a mate. The electric current, the tightness around your heart, the ability to scent them. Adelaide wasmine.
I hold my hand out, patiently waiting for her to come to the proper conclusion. Her pale eyes rove over me, and she seems to come to a decision. Then, she tosses back her beer and stands. She’s absolutely perfect. Her hand slips into mine, and I place my other hand on the small of her back. Goddess, she is tiny. She seems smaller than the few other nymph females I’ve been close to. We exit the well-kept tavern that I had been inexplicably drawn to. Not so inexplicable now, I suppose.
“Mine,” she says. My heart soars for a moment, thinking she is claiming me, but then I realize she is finally answering my question about location. My throat tightens. She’ll claim me eventually. I know it. I’ll pleasure her until she forgets every other male she’s ever met. She covertly leads me towards the keep.
“Little mate, are you taking us to the castle?”
“Yes. Though you should knock off the mate business, Ossy. I don’t need anyone overhearing that. Call me Adi.”
I manage to keep myself from grinning that she has called me that nickname again. And she has given me her shortened name. This isn’t going too poorly, I think, as she leads me by the hand down one stone hallway after another. My eyes are on her long curls that cascade to the small of her back. Warm caramel, I suddenly realize. That’s the color of them.
“Here,” she says softly, laying that tiny hand of hers on a door. It opens to a receiving room. My eyes scan the roomquickly, once for danger to my mate, once more to take in the opulent furnishings. Oh shit. She’s not justofthe Court. She’s somewhere high in it. My father hadn’t told me much of the nymph power structure, but I’m not a fool. This isn’t some unimportant person’s. A flicker of concern rustles through me.
“Adelaide....” I take her other hand and she backs up towards another door. Her eyes are greedy, taking in my body. It makes me satisfied that she looks at me in such a ravenous manner. As we enter her bedroom, she suddenly drops my hands and takes a step back. Before I can become concerned with her withdrawal, she raises an eyebrow in a playful way.
