Chapter 10

Arlys

One of my men goes tumbling off his horse and I lift a hand to signal for the others to stop. Drogo is on the ground in an instant, helping him up. Rinan and Drogo are both looking at me, waiting for my decision about what we should do. The truth is, we can't stay awake through all of witch territory. If we keep going, and they attack, we'll be useless. And we've already been going for days, even before the wedding, constantly on guard with the witch queen herself. My men need a rest. I need a rest.

"We stop!" I say, and my words are met with breaths of relief.

Pulling off the road, we move as far as we safely can, not wanting to be out in the open, at the mercy of any spiteful bitch who comes along the road and wants to send liquid fire raining down on us. The carriage is the trickiest to get off the road, but we manage, and then everyone is unloading the horses and preparing for bed.

"Someone needs to watch her," Drogo whispers near me, his expression intense. "We can't just ignore the snake in our midst."

He's right. Sort of. Although I doubt the witches' plans included surrounding us for days, doing nothing, and then having one lone witch attack at night. A witch who is currently married to us. If that were their plan, then they're fools.

"I'll keep an eye on her," I promise.

He gives me an uncertain look.

"Get some rest. We'll need you in fighting form."

After a moment of searching my face, he gives a nod and takes off to help the others.

Reluctantly, I circle to the carriage door. My mind flashes back to the tiny woman within the carriage. I would've never thought someone barely bigger than a child could be so beautiful, and yet, she is. With eyes so deep any man would fear losing himself in them and a heart-shaped face that could fool anyone into thinking she was innocent, our new bride is nowhere near what I expected.

Being near her caught me off-guard. Her frightened kiss. The way she dropped the ring. People laughed, but watching her hands shake wasn't funny. It was unsettling.

I know it's the shifter in me. We're wired to want to protect things smaller and more fragile than ourselves. I'm protective of women in general, but she's twisting everything within me into knots for reasons I can attribute to my natural instincts.

Although I didn't feel this way about the other witches, and they're tiny too.

At the door to her carriage, I draw a deep breath and pull it open.

After a minute of staring into the darkened space, I slowly stick my head in, prepared for anything, including an attack. Instead, I find her lying curled up on the seat in the carriage, looking peaceful, if uncomfortable. I know from experience just how little the padding on the seat does.

Coming back out, I set up a space beneath a tree for us to sleep. There's no time for tents. This rest won't be long enough to warrant one. It's unfortunate, because it's certainly not in the least bit proper for our bride to be sleeping in the open with a group of men, but I'll stay by her side. It's the best we can do right now.

Returning to the carriage, I duck in and scoop her up. But before I can even move, her scent comes over me and my body tightens. I've never smelled a woman like her before, but I instantly recognize her scent. Lilies. They're my favorite flower because they remind me of spring. They're sweet and spicy all at once, and yet, blended with her natural scent, there's something sensual about it.

A shiver rolls through my body, and my wolf awakens inside of me. Curious. Interested. And aroused.

I push aside the unexpected feeling. She is my wife. An obligation. A complication. Nothing more.

Out of the carriage, I'm struck again by how tiny she is. It's like she weighs nothing at all. She curls into my chest, rubbing herself against me like a sleeping kitten. Only, she's a beautiful woman, and my dick knows it damn well.

I carry her silently across the campsite and lay her down on the blankets beneath the tree. When her head hits the ground, her eyes fly open, and those deep pools of brown stare up at me with complete confusion.

"We're going to rest for a while."

She rubs her face in a strangely innocent way. "Rest?"

I nod, my body feeling tight, and slide down next to her. I rest my back against the tree trunk. When she shifts, her ass presses against my leg, and my cock jerks. It's embarrassing. I'm not a young man who lacks control of my urges. I'm twenty-three. More than old enough to be lying beside a woman without my cock tenting my pants.

She shifts again, sitting up. From beneath her dark lashes, she asks, "We're sleeping here?"

"Yes." The word comes out more husky than I would've liked.

"Just sleeping?" she asks, this time more softly.

And I realize what she's thinking about, which surprises me. Does she really think I'm such a lowly man that I would fuck my bride under a tree, with my men surrounding me? It's insulting… although, I guess she is a witch. She likely thinks that's normal behavior for us.

The hatred between our kinds is definitely mutual.

"Just sleeping," I tell her, trying not to sound too insulted.

She lets out a relieved breath, which I try not to be further offended by. Then, she leans back on the trunk of the tree and lets her head fall onto my shoulder. She snuggles in deeper, her knees touching my legs, then seems to fall right back into sleep.

Despite all logic, I breathe her in again. Lilies. My wolf likes her scent. He likes her tiny size and her soft curves.

From across the camp, I see Rinan watching me from beneath the trunk of another tree. Part of me imagines I see envy in his eyes, but I know that can't be true. Despite what my body thinks, we're all on the same page about how to handle this little wife of ours. Marrying her was an obligation, a plan from our fathers, but we won't be married to her for a moment longer than we have to be.

So there's nothing to envy right now.

It was never said that we wouldn't grow attached to her, because the assumption was that we were marrying a vile witch and that our skin would burn before we ever thought to touch her. But faced with someone so delicate and so innocent, I'm wondering if we should have made another pact. Yes, it was agreed that we wouldn't fuck her, but fucking her and liking her are two different things.

And Drogo will be cruel to her. I don't like that.

My mind goes back to that night we'd been informed that all three of our fathers were in agreement that we'd be marrying this witch princess. We'd been angry. We'd felt helpless. It was a combination of losing our hope of finding our mate, the love of our lives, and being bound to an enemy for our lifetime at the same time.

When we'd made it back to Rinan's room, Drogo had nearly shifted in rage before collapsing to his knees. He'd been breathing so hard and so fast we thought he'd pass out. Over and over again he'd repeated that he couldn't marry a woman who might be responsible for killing his brothers.

He'd nearly sobbed, reminding us that they couldn't even bring his brothers' pieces home to be buried.

Rinan and I would have done anything in that moment to ease his suffering, so when he'd come up with the wild idea that we use the witch and throw her away after we were done with her, we'd been open to the idea. He'd said it was simple, we just agree not to fuck her. That's all. So after we got what we needed from her, we could annul the marriage on the grounds that we hadn't consummated it.

The plan had formed between us. Keep our dicks in our pants. Marry the woman. Bring honor to our fathers by sticking to their insane plan. And when the time came to be done with the marriage, we'd have an out that kept our honor intact.

It'd seemed so easy then. Somehow, it was starting to seem harder…

Rinan gives me a little wave.

I wave back, and then his eyes close.

Everyone in camp seems to be settling into sleep. There's no fire to warm them. No soft bed. But they don't need it, not when they're this tired.

The few unlucky sentries remain alert around camp, keeping an eye out for a witch attack. Minutes slip away to hours, and my eyelids feel heavy. Sleep calls to me so deeply that I'm afraid that I'll give in and break my word.

I agreed to watch over her. Even if she's only sleeping. And I need to fulfill my promise.

She sighs, and her head slides from my shoulder, down to my chest, then onto my lap. Every muscle in my body tenses as she rubs her cheek against my cock, and it answers in full. Within seconds, her lips are pressed against the hard bulge of my length, and I feel all my blood rushing south.

I'm breathing hard. Rubbing my face with my hands, I glance to where Drogo is sleeping and feel relief that he's out like a candle. If he saw me now, with our wife's mouth pressed against my dick, he wouldn't be happy.

At least I'm awake. Horrifyingly awake. Hard, uncomfortable, and desperate for release in a way I can never remember being before. I'm not a man who gives in easily to his desires, but this woman is a temptress. A siren.

Perhaps she's even more dangerous than we imagined.

I glance down at her again. Is she really asleep? I watch her closely, and all signs point to that being the case. But if she's trying to seduce me into her bed, she's doing a fine job. If I were any other man, by now I would have undone my pants, pulled myself free, and found a warm home in her mouth.

But I'm not any other man. I'm Arlys Talon of Pack Talon, and I will not forget the oath I gave to my father to save our people from the witches, nor my oath to my best friends, to free us from this witch as soon as we can.

Lying beside the little witch, Princess Tara Stone, I remind myself over and over again that she is my wife in name only, and that I have no claims to that pretty little mouth of hers, no matter how much some treacherous part of me feels otherwise.