“We entered separately.” I tug Briar beneath the waterfall. The cascade instantly soaks her red hair, plastering it to her neck and shoulders, and she has to grab for her dress to keep it in place. I almost tell her there’s no point—the fabric has long since gone sheer—but if it makes her feel better, then I won’t be the one to ruin that.
We stand there for three beats. She’s right that normally there is more ceremony for a ritual like this, but ultimately the only thing required is two—or more—willing parties and the spring itself. Everything else is extra.
We emerge from the waterfall together, and I attempt not to look into the fact she doesn’t immediately drop my hand. “We leave as one.”
Walking up the stairs next to her feels strange. Even as I command myself to look away, I can’t help studying the body revealed by the now-sheer dress. She’s tinier than I expected, and despite my earlier assurances, I wonder if I will fit. Maybe others’ tastes run to pain, but that’s never been my preferred flavor of pleasure. I suspect the same is true for this woman.
Getting ahead of yourself.
Without thinking, I sweep her into my arms. This time, she doesn’t tense. She simply melts against me in a way that makes my chest feel strange. It’s not trust; we don’t know each other well enough to justify something as foundational as trust. But it’s something.
The few of my people left in the keep make themselves scarce as I carry Briar through the doors and up the stairs to the rooms that were supposed to be ours. Hopefully they will be in the future, but even if the woman doesn’t look at me with fear and revulsion, she’s hardly ready for any kind of bed sport. Even now, tiny tremors work through her body, and I can’t begin to tell if it’s because her wet dress is causing her to be chilled or if it’s a renewed fear.
Still, it takes more control than I’ll ever admit to set her carefully on her feet in front of the bedroom door. “You’ll find everything you need through here. I’ll have supper sent up shortly.” I pause, belated concern flaring. “Do you have dietary restrictions?”
She stares up at me, her eyes slightly glazed. “Are you going to serve me raw meat or something poisonous?”
“I wasn’t planning on it.” Or at least I’m not now. I don’t know what is poisonous to humans. Obviously there is food in our realm humans can eat, or the bargainers wouldn’t be able to have humans staying on in a long-term contract, but while my people might have common ancestors with Briar’s people, that doesn’t change the fact we are obviously different in a number of biological ways.
“Then no. No dietary restrictions.”
I’ll ensure that before having food sent up. “Good. Rest.”
She opens the door but doesn’t step through. “Sol.”
Goddess, but it affects me to hear my name on her lips. I hold perfectly still. “Yes?”
“In the contract, it says you can seduce me…”
I have to lock down every muscle to keep from doing something to spook her. I may not be an expert on humans, but even I can tell she’s not entirely sure what she wants my answer to be. That’s better than pure fear. I can work with that. “Rest, Briar. I’ll see you in the morning.”
I force myself to turn and move away from her, though my senses are keen enough that I know she doesn’t enter the bedroom until I’ve rounded the corner of the hall. Watching me leave? Or ensuring that I don’t follow her into the bedroom?
It doesn’t matter. I can be a patient hunter.
The prize is more than worth a little discomfort in the meantime.
Chapter 7
Briar
It takes more courage than I’ll ever admit to strip down and utilize the gargantuan bathtub to warm up after the trip back from the spring. No one appears to take advantage of my nakedness, though, and I almost fall asleep cradled in the scalding warmth of the water.
At least until I hear someone moving about in the bedroom. I jerk up, fear thick in my throat. “Who’s there?”
“Aldis.” A brown dragon peeks her head into the bathroom. “I brought up human-approved food and got a fire going. It gets chilly at night this time of year.”
I sink deeper into the water. I’m not sure how I feel about the fact that this isn’t Sol. “Oh. Thank you.”
She studies me for a long moment. “It’s a lot to take in. Don’t worry. Sol’s a grump, but he’ll be good to you.”
I’m not touching that with a ten-foot pole. “If you say so.”
“Also, here’s a robe.” She ducks into the bathroom and drapes a long length of fabric over the hook near the sink. “We dragons are a bit larger than you, but it should work until we get some clothing tailored.”