Joyless mirth scalded her insides. Burning her up into nothing, an empty shell of bitter despair. She didn’t understand her need for him, why she would crave his presence, his very touch, when he hurt her so. Er’it had little need of her beyond what pleasure he got from her body and what would be his upon her death. He cared nothing for her feelings, wanted nothing to do with her heart. So why then did she seem so eager to give it to him?
Lost in the endless circle of her thoughts, she didn’t realize her eyes had closed. Unaware of how she listed into Rhyn’s arms. Swamped with vicious nightmares and ghosts of tenderness, Aida dreamed. Sun drenched fantasies of a smiling Er’it cupping her cheek, murmuring sweet words into her hair. Stealing kisses that turned hot and violent, his body forever hard against all her softness. The brutal strength of him between her thighs. Laughing with her. Holding her as she cried. Soothing her fears and helping her to explore this world he unfolded before her.
Aida whined as she was jostled awake, burrowing deeper into the dark warmth at her side. Perhaps if she feigned sleep, Er’it would leave her be this time. No matter that she came alive under his touch, exhaustion wore her down to the marrow of her bones.
“Easy now,” Rhyn whispered against her temple, adjusting her weight in his arms.
Aida sucked in a hard breath through her nose, eyes flying open. Thin rods crammed together, woven with thick cords, formed squared walls. Thick patches of dried grasses and what looked like mud peeked out between the narrow canes. Startled gaze flying around the strange structure, she squeaked as Rhyn hefted her higher against his chest with a coarse chuckle.
“You know, some tribes have a tradition where the new husband carries his bride over the threshold of his home.”
Canting her head with painful slowness to stare wide eyed at the smiling male, Aida pulled her lips in between her teeth and bit down hard.
“Your luck that I’m not one of them, eh?” His laugh was full and warm. A belly laugh that made Aida shake with the force of it tight against her side.
“Now then,” Rhyn said, easing Aida to her feet. “You going to give me that knife or am I going to have to take it from you?”
“I-I don’t have a—”
Rhyn snorted a laugh, catching Aida by the wrist and whirling her around so she faced the back wall, keeping Aida tight against his front.
“You’re a bad liar, imp. Maybe even worse than you are a thief,” Rhyn murmured against her ear, tugging her back when Aida leaned forward. “Hand it over.”
“I will not use it against you,” Aida said, shrugging hard to dislodge the creeping prickle working down her shoulder from his warm breath. Though she meant the words, her hand still found the hilt tucked into the band of her skirt. A wonder she hadn’t sliced herself open on the ride to wherever they were. Though if Rhyn had known the entire time, perhaps he had kept that from happening.
“Means little to me, imp. I’ll not have my prize wielding a weapon. Give it over.”
“Please, don’t do this. I-I have to have it.”
A growling sigh rumbled through Rhyn’s chest. Grabbing her arms, he whipped Aida around to face him. Hunched to bring their faces close so he could meet her eyes. “I’ll not hurt you unless you give me cause, imp.
“P-Please, I need to—”
“It’s been a long night for the both of us, and my pallet calls me for nothing but sleep. I’ll not bed you this night.”
“I need it to kill myself,” Aida blurted out as Rhyn’s lips thinned.
Rhyn rocked back, keeping his hold on her to hold her at arm’s length. Indigo eyes wide, he swept his gaze over Aida with a strange mix of disbelief and horror.
“Vrazys take me,” Rhys said with a growl, snatching the blade out of Aida’s hand and tossing it against the far wall to clatter against the rough floor. “That what he convinced you of, imp?”
“In a way,” Aida stammered out, shuffling her feet as Rhys’ gaze continued to batter her with unspoken questions. Leaving her to twist in his grasp as she grew more uncertain of everything. “I didn’t lie, I am more valuable than your gold to him, maybe any blood mage… but I can’t let them have me, you see? They’ll hurt too many people.”
“Vrazys take my soul.” Rhyn swiped a palm over his face, tipping his head back to stare at the rough-hewn timbers of the ceiling. Firming his hold on Aida’s arm, he nodded once and tugged her along behind him as he left the small structure. “Right. We’re seeing someone who knows what in the sixth level of the Sky they’re talking about.”
Thanks for reading Rite of the Omega!
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