“Wait, if you were run through, why aren’t you bleeding to death? And you,” she addressed the sorceress. “Why were you worried about us and not the the…?” She lapsed into silence and gestured in the drow’s direction.
Rhea gave her an impatient look. “Try to keep up. There is a drow elf with a necromancer. Who did necromancers usually travel with?”
“The… dead,” Dorienne replied with a hint of uncertainty.
“The resurrected,” Marcarus corrected, his ears turning toward them as he eyed Ashul with curiosity. “The dead only briefly serve them when called upon. It is the resurrected who are bound to them. I’ve never heard of a human necromancer resurrecting another species, however.”
“We’re not supposed to without special license, such as if we are accompanying a party comprised of nonhuman species on a dangerous journey,” Robyn mumbled, her cheeks heating beneath the minotaur’s knowing gaze.
Of course she would be caught naked with just Ashul’s glorious bare body shielding her by someone who actually knew something about necromancers.
“I see,” he rumbled, and his nostrils flared, scenting the air. “I did not think that necromancers lay with their charges either.” He directed a stony glance toward Ashul. “Although she made a mistake expected of one in training and still inexperienced, you cannot completely fault my charge for responding to what appeared to her to be an attack rather than expecting deviancy with a drow of all things. A creature that would more likely kill a human than embrace them.”
“Deviancy?” Ashul growled, his eyes narrowing dangerously as he bristled with affront.
“Ashul, it’s okay,” Robyn said. “He’s not wrong, even if he holds an opinion that is close-minded, lacks imagination in regard to how love finds a way, and is bigoted against your species.”
Ashul snickered as he glanced back at her appreciatively, outright ignoring the way the minotaur stiffened in outrage. Rhea made a sound of disgust in her throat as she pushed forward.
“Oh, hush, Marcarus. You’re hardly one to talk. You forget I know your secrets too,” she snapped. “Both of yours, even if you wish to ignore it,” she added, casting a shrewd look at both the human woman and the minotaur. “Now let’s see to your cog mare and leave them alone to finish their mating… or whatever perfectly deviant activities they have planned since they were so rudely interrupted. Whatever obstacles they must face are theirs alone and don’t require your commentary. Now come along—I saved some stew for you. You can eat while I look over the goods you brought me. I assume you are heading out within the hour.”
“We are. The eastern plains are some distance still. We will find a suitable resting place by nightfall,” the minotaur huffed as he rose to his feet and turned his massive bulk to follow the sorceress out of the stall, the swordswoman following behind him. She sheepishly gave Robyn one last apologetic look before leaving them once again alone in the stall.
Robyn’s lips pinched, but she allowed the tension to bleed from her as she sagged against her mate’s rigid body. He turned, catching her up into his warm arms, his nose burying in her hair as he deeply inhaled her scent. She gripped his forearms, holding onto him, but jumped when Rhea’s head popped back in unexpectedly around the corner of the stall.
“By way, you still look like you. What happened with the potion?”
Robyn groaned as Ashul stiffened once again and shot a dark look in the sorceress’s direction.
“Thank you for reminding me. What were you thinking, giving that to my mate?” he demanded, his irritation fluidly switching over to the sorceress. “My songbird does not need anything of the sort and is perfect as she is. If I catch you tampering with her again, and trying to poison either her body or her spirit with your potions, I will…”
“Yeah, I know, murder me,” Rhea drawled dryly. “Look, you know that she didn’t need it, and I knew that, but she did not. It was a conversation that needed to happen rather than continuing to fester between you so that you could move on and do as nature calls… Congratulations, by the way, and you’re welcome. Now I’m feeding the grumpy bull and getting on with my work. Some of us do not sleep through the day.” She chuckled. “Your breakfast will be on the table in the evening before you head out,” she called, ducking back out.
Ashul huffed, his eyes sliding down to meet hers. Although their mating had been wonderful, it was clear that he was still annoyed over the situation. Robyn smiled and tucked herself up against his larger frame, her arms wrapping around his bare middle.
“I did need it,” she said quietly as she peered up at him. “I don’t think I would have been able to bring myself to talk about it if everything hadn’t unfolded as it had. And I certainly wouldn’t have felt free to mate you if those doubts still ate at me that this—what you see here—wasn’t enough. The potion obviously did exactly what the sorceress intended,” she added wryly.
His ear twitched, and he expelled a long breath, gathering her close into his arms. “Perhaps so. I suppose I cannot hold that vile poison against her if she suspected all along what would happen.”
“Precisely,” she murmured. She snuggled into his embrace and sighed, enjoying the steady beat of his heart thudding beneath her ear. She traced a fingernail over his nipple, drawing a shuddering breath from him. “But now that we are alone…” She let her words trail off, a teasing grin lighting her features as he leveled her with a hot look.
Without saying a word, he swept her up in his arms, pressing her close to his heart as he carried her back to their makeshift bed. Robyn pushed all concerns of their future away. The repercussions of her decision would come soon enough. They were only a few short days’ journey from the monastery. But the day of reckoning would not come that day, and she basked in the arms of the elf who loved her.
ChapterTwenty-One
The sunlight bearing through the barren branches of the trees was irritating him. In fact, there was nothing that Ashul would like more at that moment than to dig a hole like some burrowing creature to hide himself and his mate in. If only it weren’t for the damn compulsion driving him mad.
It had him on edge just as much as his songbird, but unlike his mate who possessed a gracious spirit—which he still considered an oddity for a necromancer—it made him churlish and disagreeable to everything except to the female he cherished. Or at least not more than usual. He kept it reined in for her sake and unleashed it on all else. Even a late-blooming dandelion was crushed beneath the hard grind of his heel out of the sheer pleasure of snuffing something out and relieving some small part of his frustration.
Robyn gave him a sidelong glance. “Ashul, are you okay?”
“I do not like this,” he growled. “The closer we get to the place, the more wrong it feels. As if we are walking into a trap.”
“I doubt that would be the case since no one knows about you,” she replied soothingly. “Word is unlikely to have traveled that fast from the mountains.”
He snorted, his ears twitching with unease. “This is true. It is not like I have done anything of late to warrant humans fleeing for their lives.”
“Exactly.”