Immortals After Dark 09 - Pleasure of a Dark Prince

already ‘bragged’ to Travis and Charlie about my wife winning the National Archery Championships. Now, do you vow it?”
    “I vow it. Until we find whatever we’re here for.” At his unbending look, she said, “We’re just taking a timeout, until the game begins again.”
    He shrugged. “Deal. By then, I’ll have you to where you canna think of leaving me anyway.”
    From the bowcase, he retrieved a sleeve of spare arrows. “Why do you no’ have a never-emptying quiver? Like the fey?”
    “I wish.” Many of the fey archers had mystical quivers. If you shot an arrow, you would forever have another exactly like it. Extinguish one, and another replaced it. “They’re impossible to get. The fey guard them fiercely.” Her closest competition in archery, Tera the Fey, owned one.
    “Do they, then?” He handed her the bow. “Show me what you’ve got. See that tree leaning over the water at the bend? There’s a patch of lichen—”
    Lucia had already fired and hit it before he could finish the sentence. She could still shoot like a goddess! Even after last night, she hadn’t broken her code of chastity. She gave him a “how you like me now?” look.
    “You get off on being known as
the
Archer.”
    She blinked at him. “Yeah. I do. I’m the best in the entire world—who
wouldn’t
get off on that?” And who would be crazy enough to jeopardize it?
    “You’re modest to boot.”
    “Why do females have to be modest when they’re good at their careers? When they should be
duly
proud? That’s never made any sense to me.”
    A breeze blew then, tumbling gray clouds toward them, darkening the day. If it rained, would he truly expect her to go back to the cabin with him? At the thought, she was filled with nervousness, and maybe even a touch of… anticipation. She moistened her lips.
    At once, his gaze locked on her mouth, then he scrubbed his palm over his own. Was he remembering the night before—how she’d tasted him? “Uh, hit that leaf fluttering ahead of the boat.”
    With her gaze still meeting his, she did.
    He raised a brow. “So back to the subject of sex,” he said, though they hadn’t been on the subject of sex for some time. “Tell me what’s so important about being a Skathian?”
    “I owe the great goddess Skathi. She gave me her mark of favor.” And gifted Lucia with pain to make herremember.
How well are you remembering, Lucia?
“She gave me an identity. Look, you have your clan and the royal bloodline you belong to. But I don’t know who my people were, and Nïx said I never will.”
    Not until I have a child. Which I can never do, though I’d always wanted them….
    “So your people became the Skathians.”
    “Exactly.”
    “Hit the lily by the log trap,” he said, and she nailed it. “What’s it like to miss?”
    Carefully choosing her words, she said, “It… hurts in… unimaginable ways.”
    “How bad was it in the beginning?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Were you no’ missing all the time at first?”
    Everyone assumed this, figuring the pain had taught her. Only Regin knew that Lucia had been
handed
her abilities, without an hour of practice. “It was long ago. I don’t really think about it. All I know is that I’ve definitely earned the right to call myself a Skathian. I refuse to give it up lightly.”
    “No’ even for sex? If no’ with me, then someone must’ve tempted you over the years.”
    She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Clearly not enough.”
    “Calling yourself a Skathian is more important than having a family? Or children?”
    “Yes, MacRieve! Accept it.” If Lucia could accept not having children, then he damn well would! “It’s not just my vows. If I surrender to you, then I have no identity.”
    He shrugged. “Women do this all the time—give up their jobs for their men.”
    “You didn’t just say that.” She couldn’t remember the last time someone’s attitude had grated so much—
    Her phone vibrated then, interrupting her. Another text message from
RegRad: Screw U & the Lykae U rode in on. Nïx told me UR on cruise w/ Mac. WTF??
    Lucia sighed, imagining how Regin would act out over that little nugget from Nïx. The soothsayer could have been saying that to stir up trouble, or because she truly viewed it that way.
    MacRieve asked, “Who keeps texting you? Nïx?”
    “Nïx rarely texts.” Because no one ever responded. But how exactly was one supposed to reply to messages like:
Smurf!
or
I’m