Warcry

deeply.
    Atira chuckled, seemingly sure of herself, and her hands rose to his chest, stroking over his nipples.
    “I need to know something,” Heath whispered.
    “Yes,” Atira said, and it wasn’t a question. Her hands drifted lower, close to his trous.
    “If you are so against bonding with me, why are you trying to seduce me?”
    Atira jerked her hands back, her anger flaring once again.
    Heath looked over his shoulder at her, his blue eyes deep in the fading light.
    Atira flushed, but lifted her chin. “Try? I don’t have to try hard. You want me.”
    She gestured to the front of his trous. “Deny that.”
    “I don’t.” Heath turned his back. “But I want more. Much more.”
    “City-dweller ways,” Atira snorted, moving over to her bedroll to sprawl on its length. “Can’t it just be about pleasure? Enjoying ourselves?”
    “I desire you, Atira,” Heath said. “You are the air I need to breathe, the very heart of me.” He knelt on his side, propping his head on his hand. “I want more than sex, more than sharing. I want to create a life with you. Sharing our hearts, our laughter and sorrow, our plans. How can I make you see that—”
    “I see that your body hungers,” Atira said. “As does mine.”
    She reached for his groin, but Heath caught her wrist. “No. Bonding is more than sex. How can I make you understand that—”
    “Fine,” Atira snapped as she pulled her hand back. She sat up and pulled off the tunic.
    “What are you doing?” Heath growled.
    Atira rolled the tunic into a pillow and lay back slowly. “If you will not see to my pleasure, I will take my own.” She arched her back, and cupped her breasts in her hands, closing her eyes as her nipples tightened.
    A strangled noise came from Heath’s direction, but she ignored him, keeping her eyes closed. “You were right, the stones are warm, and the air is sweet on my skin.” Atira pinched her nipples, rolling them between her fingers. She drew one leg up, and flexed her hips.
    “Can you smell my desire, Heath?” she asked. She eased her eyes open just a bit so that she could see Heath’s face. It might have been set in stone, his eyes glittering as his chest heaved. “Can you taste the salt of my skin on your lips?”
    She moved her right hand down, stroking the skin of her belly. “I want your touch,” she whispered. “I want you, deep within me.” She moved her fingers lower, just touching the top of her mound as she let her leg fall, exposing her folds. “But if I can’t have—”
    Heath pounced.
    He grabbed for her wrists, trying to pin her with his body. But Atira fought back, using his weight against him, rolling them over so that she was on top, flushed with her victory.
    Heath growled and rolled them back onto the pads, half on, half off, his leg pressed between her, forcing them apart.
    Atira chuckled, and used her hips to flip him again, determined to win.
    Heath’s eyes went wide, and she shrieked as they rolled off the roof.

CHAPTER 15
     
    “IDIOT,” DURST SNARLED. “HOW COULD YOU BE SO stupid?”
    Lanfer was bent over a table, his leathers down around his ankles. He winced as Browdus poured wine onto his buttocks. “It was necessary. It will throw them off balance.”
    “Horseshit,” Durst growled. “You and the Seneschal’s son have been at odds since birth. You brought personal feelings into this for the wrong reasons.”
    Lanfer twisted around to look at the man. “And your reasons aren’t personal?”
    “Yours is a squabble between boys.” Durst’s tone was cold. “I am avenging the death of my son with a cool head and a steady hand.”
    Lanfer winced as Browdus spread open the wound and rinsed it again. “Hold still,” the cleric muttered.
    “You can’t stay in the castle,” Durst continued. “We’ll need a reason to get you—”
    “I am not leaving,” Lanfer said.
    “You won’t be able to sit for a week,” Durst pointed out. “And your man will walk with a limp.” He sniffed. “At least you had the brains not to leave a blood trail to my door.”
    “I will be fine,” Lanfer said. “The pain is nothing compared to the healing. My man can take my horses out to the farrier and leave that way. But I am staying.”
    Durst lifted his cane and brought the tip up under Lanfer’s chin. Lanfer lifted his head, craning his neck until he winced with pain.
    “You stay only so long as you obey me,” Durst said. “Our plans rely on quiet and subtlety. No one must