What if she worked behind the scenes to sabotage his task?
By trusting her in any capacity, he risked more than his life. He jeopardized the lives of his brothers. Men he loved. Men who relied on him to do his job. They’d always had his back. Had often put themselves in danger to save him. How could he endanger their futures for anyone, even agravita?
But how could he not?
Tonka approached him at the edge of the dais and raised the horn to signal the end of the round. Not only did she act as the MC of the event, but she also acted as Roux’s handler. The other members of the welcome party hadn’t bothered to show up today. No doubt they planned an ambush of some kind.
“Your girl’s sure to move on,” the harpy grumbled. “Again.”
“Yes.” And he could not be prouder of her.
Covered in sweat and sand, Blythe swung a sword with expert precision, taking the head of a wolfshifter just before she crossed the obstacle course’s finish line.
The horn’s blare pierced the air. “And that’s a wrap,” Tonka called.
Roux planted his feet, remaining in place, ignoring the urgent urge to flash to his treacherousgravita, gather her close and bend her over their bed. The harphantom remained rooted, too, clutching the blood-soaked sword. She was panting with exertion as she lifted her gaze, peering up at him.
Awareness arced in the space between them. Despite his jumbled mix of emotions, he wasn’t sure he could function without her anymore. He’d tasted of pleasure and peace for the first time in his life, and there was no going backward for him. She was a lifeline, and he refused to let go.
He nodded his approval of her victory, and she blew him a kiss.
“By the way, tonight we’re hosting a dinner to celebrate the combatants who reached the semifinals,” Tonka said.
The tournament had done its job, thinning the herd. From hundreds of Ation citizens to ten semifinalists, including Blythe, plus the nine members of the welcome party, the thirty-nine women who’d chosen not to fight, and the twenty-three wraiths. And those from the villages who hadn’t participated.
“You will come,” Tonka added. A statement, not a question. “You don’t even have to travel far. Food is being served in the conference room on the third floor.”
Somehow, he found the strength to tear his attention from Blythe and face the other female. He arched a brow while tilting his head to the side. With an eerily quiet tone, he asked, “You have the means to force me?”
“Well, yeah.” A flush stained the harpy’s cheeks. “Your oath. Between courses, we’ll be discussing round nine, which definitely, positively requires your input to ensure no rules are broken. And, because you can’t interfere with the tournament, you can’t refuse to listen to our questions.”
He pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth. Maybe his oath would force his involvement in this, maybe it wouldn’t. Either way, he wished to hear more about this round nine.
“I’ll be there. Make sure there’s dessert.” He hadn’t forgotten Blythe’s request for the cake. “Something chocolate, preferably.”
A relieved sigh gusted from the harpy, and she grinned. “Okay, that was easier than I expected. Heck yeah, there will be dessert. If you’re lucky, we’ll serve the sweet treats on our bodies. Oh, and first course will be served in an hour. That way, we’ll be sure to finish up before you’re due at Wraith Island.”
That, he highly doubted. Perhaps they intended to poison him and keep him from fulfilling his vow to Penelope? Too bad. His immunity to poisons, toxins, and venoms hadn’t weakened. Or maybe they hoped to poison Blythe? Again, too bad. He would act as her taster. And probably feed her by hand.
The idea struck, and there was no negating it. Hewouldfeed her by hand. And probably love-hate every second of it.
Blythe flashed to his side, startling Tonka, who backed up a step. “You ready to go, babe?” The harphantom leaned her head against his shoulder while gliding a palm up his chest.
Staking a claim? He almost grinned. And would have, if his doubts hadn’t returned. Scowling, he slung an arm around her waist and transported her to their chamber.
He released her, stalked to his chair, and sat. “We’re attending a dinner in an hour. Wash up and change,” he said. “Then we talk.”
She stood where he’d left her, her arms hanging at her side, her expression lusty and yet almost vulnerable. “Why don’t we take off our clothes and see what happens instead?”
He bit his tongue to stop a swift agreement. “Stay bloody, if you’d like, but wewilltalk. We approach the end of our time here, and I want things settled between us.”
Moments passed in silence as she searched his face. Maintaining a blank expression required work, but he did it. “Guess I’ll be washing up,” she quipped, sauntering to the closet, where she withdrew multiple garments so sheer, he broke out in a sweat.
“We’ll be flashing to Wraith Island straight from the dinner, so dress accordingly,” he instructed, gripping the arms of the chair.
“Sir, yes, sir.” A sassy tone, filled with determination. Blowing him a kiss, she strolled into the bathroom without exchanging the sheer garments for others and sealed herself inside.
He lurched to his feet and paced. Back and forth, back and forth. Did she plan to betray him or not? What would he do if shedidbetray him? A denial roared in his head.