I shake my head quickly, afraid to trust myself alone with him at this moment. “No, it's fine. I'll be back soon.”
With that, I turn, pulling my hand away, and practically run from the hall, desperate to escape the sensation of being consumed by flames from the inside out. The cool night air hits me like a balm as I step outside, trying to steady my ragged breaths and clear my head.
I walk briskly, putting distance between myself and the hall, hoping the cool night air will extinguish the fire raging within me.
As I wander through the moonlit path, I reach a fence protecting someone from going too close to the edge. My mind whirls. The touch of Vann's hand still lingers on my skin, and I still ache from head to toe.
When I shift, slickness spreads over my inner thighs.
Was something in that wine?
Lost in my tumultuous thoughts, I freeze as a shadow falls over me. My heart pounds, and there is a hollow ache in my lower belly. I turn to find Vann standing behind me, his eyes dark with concern.
"Arlet, you don’t seem well,” he asks, reaching out a hand towards me.
Before I can respond, a gust of wind brushes over my skin, almost painfully exquisite. I gasp, my head tilting back at the intense sensation.
The air between Vann and I feels thick. It’s hard to breathe.
“Did—did you drink the wine?” I ask, chest heaving from the heady sensation.
"I didn’t,” he admits softly, his gaze never leaving mine. "Arlet, what's happening to you?"
I try to form words, to explain the overwhelming desire coursing through me, but it feels impossible. The world around us blurs at the edges, narrowing down to just Vann and me in our own sphere of heated tension. A surge of panic shoots through me, fueled by the fire still burning within.
Need bleeds out of every pore. Without thinking, I spin on myheel and break into a sprint, desperate to get away from him. A new need blossoms—a desire that he would catch me. That he would hold me tightly, as tightly as he did in Mrath’s enclave.
That I’d have new memories—sweet ones—to replace my nightmares.
To my delight, Vann is fast. With a few swift strides, he catches up to me and effortlessly lifts me over his shoulder, my half-hearted protests muffled against his back, as my heart pounds.
"Let me go!" I cry out, the world tilting around me as he carries me back toward our room.
As we near the entrance, a figure steps into our path, blocking Vann's way. The elf looks between Vann and me and then begins to laugh before stepping back. He says something taunting to Vann, who immediately snaps at him.
The cool air against my skin does nothing to ease the heat. The way that Vann holds me over his shoulder is uncomfortable, and doesn’t allow friction in any of the right places.
Delicious images fill my mind of his hand pushing my skirts out of the way and then, finding just how wet I am.
My head spins as I use my hands to prop myself up, and look around. We’re still not back at our small house. It would be inappropriate to?—
Vann’s hand goes around my ankle and I moan. My mind is foggy, but I can feel how his grip tightens, and he speeds his pace up. Dizzy, I let my head fall once more.
Before I know it, he is easing me off his shoulder, and placing me on the bed. I gasp out a breath and my chest heaves.
“What the fuck is wrong with these elves?” he grits out. I watch him light the fire, and then he begins pacing.
A fierce ache pulses within me as Vann walks away, his frustration palpable. I watch him, my heartbeat felt in my breasts, belly, and sex. The memory of his touch sends shivers down my spine.
"Vann," I call out softly, my voice barely above a whisper as I sit up unsteadily on the bed. He stops in his tracks, turning to face me. Those silver eyes that remind me of metal back home. I love to see them.
“Stop pacing and come here,” I demand.
"This isn't right," he mutters, brushing hair out of his eyes. "None of this is right."
“What?” I demand, oversensitive. The wound of being not chosen surges within me. “Not right because I’m not your mate?”
My eyes fill with tears, and it is a dreadful thing to feel while aroused. Like I’m getting torn in half.