Chapter Thirteen
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The depth of love is measured by the extent of sacrifice.
Rui did not get her turn.
She had only herself to blame. She must have passed out from exhaustion or bliss or a mixture of both, after the most amazing, explosive experience of her existence.
Sure, it hurt.
Alot.
But it was worth it. What happened in the end—twice—it was more than worth it.
She must have fallen asleep (more accurately, fallen unconscious) while Wolfe was still inside her. She didn’t recall him leaving, only the indescribable feeling of fullness and heat.
Every molecule of her being had been infused with his essence. Her core had hungrily soaked up his cream. It soothed the burn inside, turned it instead into incredible, indescribable pleasure.
She awoke again in the tent that she shared with her traveling companions, Ere and Sorin. Perhaps she ought to start thinking of them as “friends.” She could use some friends to confide in.
What a foreign feeling, the need to talk. To express the inexpressible emotions that overwhelmed her. She never thought she could be like this. Her heart racing, her head a mess.
She was feeling…somewhat fragile this morning.
Changed. Vulnerable. And it wasn’t because the place between her legs throbbed with a voluptuous sort of pain that made her wince as well as grin like an idiot.
The expression on her face made Sorin pause as he ducked inside their tent. The scent of the lake clung to his skin, as well as something else beneath it. The scent of his Mate.
Rui glanced at Ere, who was sitting on his pallet on the far side, sorting through their things. His long hair was still wet, just like Sorin’s. And he wore his Mate’s musk as well, mingled with his own.
Looked like they made use of the fresh-water lake just as she and Wolfe did.
Immediately, Rui’s mind raced back to the night before. Replaying every sound and sight, smell and touch, in her head. Her messy, cotton-candy-filled head.
A strange sound that she’d never uttered before escaped her lips, making both males turn to her with arrested expressions of consternation and concern.
“What?” she asked, drawing herself up, spine taut, feeling defensive.
“You just giggled,” Ere whispered, eyes comically wide.
“I do not know what you mean,” Rui retorted. “I am not the sort of female who does that sort of thing.”
“You most certainly did,” he argued. “A small, breathless, bubbly sound, where your face helplessly scrunched into a display of happiness, your mouth pulled up in a grin, and your eyes squeezed into crescent moons. That’s giggling.”
Rui willed the corners of her lips down into her usual implacable mask, though wrestling her facial muscles into submission was more difficult than expected.
“Warrior dragons do not giggle,” she maintained. “That vice is left to silly girls with silly thoughts. I—”
“Wolfe,” Ere broke in with just the one word, almost like a dog barking.
And Rui erupted into uncontrollable giggles.
Humiliatingly, the more she tried to calm herself, the more she laughed. The joy inside her couldn’t be contained nor restrained. It wanted to burst forth and shine. She giggled so helplessly her stomach hurt.
What in heaven’s name was wrong with her!
“Oh, my dear little truffle dragon,” Ere said with sympathetic, soft eyes.