The Shadow Warrior

by Aguirre, Ann

  Leena shook her head. “Handsome knights don’t need a story because people love them wherever they go, but people scream and run away from dragons, so they need a princess even more.”

  Gavriel stared at her, wondering if he was unhinged to take her remark personally. “You’d rather love a dragon?”

  She patted his head with the fearlessness of the very young. Gods, Leena was starting to remind him of Magda. “Definitely. He’d always protect me and take me flying and let me have some of his gold.”

  He swallowed hard, hating the sudden twinge in his withered heart. “Yes. He would. All of it, most likely, if you asked.”

  15.

  As Mags soon discovered, it was impossible to keep people at a distance when you were snowed in with them.

  Before the day ended, she had played four children’s games, read eight stories, crafted a makeshift dartboard, and won a drinking contest, which frankly wasn’t fair, given her accelerated metabolism. The drunken Eldritch on the floor didn’t seem to mind. Haryk was bellowing some folk song at the top of his lungs, despite all attempts to shush him. All things considered, she felt almost at home.

  When she got up to pour herself more wine, as alcohol wore off too fast for her to enjoy it, a powerful thump shook the whole door. Most of the Eldritch were bosky, and she snickered as Haryk tried to wobble to his feet, then tipped over. Gavriel had abstained and he went over to call out.

  “Who’s there?”

  “A nearly frozen trader. Open the damn door!” came the bellowed response.

  Since the Noxblade didn’t seem inclined to show mercy, Mags slid back the bar and the wind howled into the room, carrying whirling snow and bits of ice and an extremely large Animari male. And for her to take note, the man was immense.

  Like he’d said, he was dressed as a trader, loaded down with pelts and skins, though some of that might be his own gear. His beard was black and silver, needed a good trimming, and he wore his hair long with a silly ushanka hat jammed down so that the fur flaps covered half his cheeks. Not handsome—he had a face like a rugged cliff, ravaged by wind and rain. His gray eyes were sharp, and he seemed surprised to see her. Oh, he covered it well, but he’d already clocked her as Animari and the lowering of his brows in conjunction with the flaring of his nostrils told her he recognized her as a tiger also.

  Interesting as hell, because she was doing the same. A tiger man in the flesh, after all this time. Wouldn’t Ma be elated? That bitter thought made her smile. But she’d never run across the stranger’s scent trail before; he’d never been to Ash Valley, and he must avoid other Animari like the plague because there were no other scents on him, just vicious cold and wildlife.

  Wonder why.

  The newcomer might’ve guessed she was wondering about him because he pulled off his hat and shook himself like a wet pup. Not much feline grace about this one. Maybe living outside of a pride had done it, or possibly he was never a good cat in the first place.

  Haryk managed to get to his feet, unsteady but upright and he beamed at the new arrival. “Titus! I wasn’t sure you’d make it, lad. The weather took a nasty turn.”

  “As I was nearly done in by it, I’m well aware. Make way,” he said brusquely, and Eldritch children scattered around his legs like falling dominoes.

  He sank down in front of the fireplace with an audible groan and dropped his pack beside him. Leena crept closer, quick as a trained thief, and soon she was peeking in various pockets and compartments. Though Mags couldn’t get a good look from where she was standing, it seemed like in addition to his skins and furs, the trader also had statuettes carved from wood and bone.

  “What’re you looking for, little rabbit?” Titus reached out to tousle Leena’s hair with a big hand, but she ducked away, eyes wide.

  “Are you a giant? Do you eat rabbits?”

  “No, and yes.”

  That probably wasn’t the best reply because he’d just called the Eldritch girl a bunny. Unsurprisingly, she shrieked and took shelter behind her mother.

  The stranger sighed, closed his pack, and directed his attention to the innkeeper.

  “We’ve got a full house,” Haryk was saying. “I can’t give you the usual room. In fact, I’m hard-pressed to figure out where you can sleep at all. You take up a lot of space.”

  Mags stifled a chuckle. It was the sort of tactless thing people had been saying to her for years, but Titus appeared to be used to it. He would be, she guessed, if he made regular supply runs to this Eldritch village. The real question was why he chose to live here instead of among his own people.

  It was none of her business, really, but she was curious. There was some saying about curiosity and cats, of course, but she’d forgotten how that went, and even if it was bad news, she had a history of ignoring well-meant, cautionary words.

  Even now, years past those terrible times, the memory could cut down to the bone, past the protective scar tissue, and leave her bleeding. She breathed in. Out. Looking at the stranger, but not really seeing him, until she realized her blank regard had drawn his gaze.

  With a grace impressive for his size, Titus uncoiled from the rug, took a few steps closer, and asked softly, “Do you need help, glorious queen? I see these wicked villagers have stolen your clothes.”

  Oh shit.

  Suddenly, she realized she was still wrapped in her camp blanket, not a stitch beneath it either. Since she was meeting this man for the first time, maybe she ought to be embarrassed. Mags threw back her head and laughed.

  “It’s true, they got them while I was sleeping, and they badly needed washing. I appreciate the offer, but I’m fine.”

  “You look as if you can fight your own battles,” Titus admitted with a tilt of his head, eyes sparkling. “But never let it be said that I left someone so lovely in the lurch. Let me know if there’s anything I can do, anything at all.”

  He flicked a look at the Noxblade that indicated he could smell Gavriel on her skin, and he wanted to cause trouble. This is probably why he lives alone. Amused and willing to see how far the tiger male would go, she didn’t snap Titus’s wrist when he touched her shoulder and ran a hand down her arm. Mags stared at that point of contact until Titus pulled away, his mouth twisting into a self-satisfied smirk.

  Then he leaned in to whisper, “As I’m sure you’ve gathered, lovely, I prefer to walk alone, but I’d be more than happy to leave you something to remember me by.”

  The sheer devil’s nerve of this cat. “Are you offering sex or stud service?”

  “Both, if you like. I’m vain enough to want to see my line go on, lazy enough that I’d rather not raise them myself. And you look like the responsible sort.”

  Ma would be over the moon. For a few seconds, she was even tempted. But while Arran had been perfectly clear about her never having a mate, he hadn’t mentioned children. It would kill her if she lost a cub. I can’t take the risk.

  “No thanks,” she said politely.

  A sharp bark of laughter escaped the tiger male. “You’d think I offered you tea instead of a night you’d never forget.”

  Just then, Gavriel made a disgusted noise and stalked into the kitchen. Before Mags could do more than spare a look in that direction, he was back with an untidy bundle of cloth. The Noxblade thrust the fabric at her with a ferocious scowl. “These are a bit stiff but ready to wear. Get dressed.”

  That sounded perilously like an order, and he half-stepped between her and the Animari, like the sight of her bare shoulder might drive the man into a fit of uncontrollable lust. Then again, he did just proposition me. She considered taking issue with Gavriel’s attitude, but since angry and grumpy were his default settings, this was business as usual.

  “Thanks,” she said to Gavriel, then she added to Titus, “Isolation may have clouded your judgment a bit, but I’ll take the compliment. And for the record, you’d be the one who couldn’t forget.”

  It felt good to flirt because apart from Raff, people didn’t even try a
nymore. The reputation she’d built for being untouchable and unattainable protected her heart—and the safety of others—but it also left her lonely. She stepped lightly up the stairs, conscious of the flexing wood, and put on her clothes; the lighter set must have dried faster than her outdoor gear. Good enough, she wouldn’t be going outside until the storm broke anyway.

  In some ways, it felt as if that casual offer might have been her last chance. But no, her course was set. There could be no more mistakes, no more loss. The warmth of a mate and family were not for her.

  Gathering that certainty like armor, she headed downstairs, only to find that Gavriel was gone.

  The walls were closing in on Gavriel and there was a ringing in his ears, so loud that it muffled the conversation swirling around him. And it was so damn hot, between the close quarters and the fire, that he might burst into flames.

  “I’ll check on Gray,” he muttered.

  His coat wasn’t dry from his last excursion, but he put it on anyway and rushed into the swirling wall of white. He grabbed onto the line that led to the barn and held on with all his strength, fighting the wind as he wanted to fight the fucking Animari asshole who—well, Gavriel had no right to be angry. No right to want to smash the man’s face for leering at Magda.

  It wasn’t jealousy. It was not.

  How was he supposed to feel about that blatant disrespect, though? If the man had the usual Animari senses, he must know there was something between them, yet he’d chosen to act as if Gavriel didn’t exist, not even worthy to be considered a rival. Not that he saw himself as such. They were expedient partners, who happened to be sexually compatible. That was all.

  So why do I want to murder him?

  He got inside the stable and with full strength, managed to close the door behind him. The animals seemed well enough, secure in their stalls, and the boy who lived in the loft had been tending the fire in the belly of the stove. The young Eldritch peered over the railing at him and Gavriel silently shook his head.

  I don’t need anything. I’m hiding.

  That angered him even more.

  But he couldn’t have stayed in the common room to watch more of that revolting nonsense. Better for him to withdraw. If need be, he’d sleep in the loft with the stable boy, though he felt like chewing through a leather strap at the idea of yielding his place to that smug tiger bastard.

  There was nothing to do out here except tend to Gray, so he tried to calm himself by grooming the vedda beast, who preened beneath the attention and let out happy chuffs. Sighing, Gavriel leaned his head against the animal’s side. Gray was warm and smelled of summer, likely the fodder he’d been eating.

  The stable doors blew open, then slammed shut. He didn’t look up.

  “Feeling antisocial?” Magda’s voice, breathless from the wind and cold, from wrestling the door. She’d put on her outdoor gear even though it wasn’t even dry. Wearing it couldn’t be doing her any good.

  She risked her well-being to follow me?

  Stunned, he turned, and it was like seeing her for the first time: dark hair, light brown skin, angular features, those precious dimples, and her wide, full mouth. And oh, those eyes, golden and gorgeous, and his heart fluttered, an all-over quiver, that he felt in his thighs, in his belly, and he didn’t know what to do with his hands. The brush dropped to the hay-covered floor with a thunk.

  “What do you think?” he muttered.

  “That you want to get away from everyone, especially Titus.”

  “Then you realize he was rude…and you did nothing to stop it.”

  “He’s an ass. And you’re angry.” Her tone rose, as if sudden realization.

  Before he could reply, the boy scampered down the loft. He was young for an Eldritch, twenty or so, still thin and fragile. “Will you be here a while?”

  Gavriel nodded without looking at Magda. She could do whatever the hell she liked; he didn’t care at all.

  “Then I’m off to the public house for a hot meal. Do you think Leena will play darts with me?”

  “I’m sure,” Magda answered. “We’ll stay until you get back.”

  “Much appreciated.” Eyes shining, the boy bundled up and hurried out into the weather, leaving them alone.

  Once the doors shut, Magda moved fast, so quick that Gavriel almost flinched, but then he recognized the gleam in her eyes. Hungry, impatient.

  “You’re angry,” she said again. “But you have no right to be. Nothing happened, but even if it did, you can’t say shit. You belong to me, not the other way around. If I wanted you to watch me with someone else, you’d take it or say the word.”

  Gavriel hated himself for the instant surge of arousal. Voyeurism had never interested him, but the idea of being pushed to it? Yes, that was pure heat, pooling in his cock. She got him all the way there when she put her hand on his throat and squeezed. “Nod if you accept what I’m saying.”

  Gavriel shuddered. Nodded. Now he was both furious and hard. He clenched his jaw and said nothing.

  She smiled. “Now then, that’s settled. I don’t know how much time we have, so let’s make this quick.”

  Grabbing his wrist, she dragged him behind the stove, where the tools were stored. There were a couple of wooden chairs as well, probably left for the stable lad’s use. She nudged Gavriel toward one of them, and he sat without thinking, his mind fogged with the luscious possibility of what she might do.

  “I’m going to use you. I won’t let you move or touch me with your hands. You exist to please me. Understood? I’m going to take what I want, and if you’re satisfactory, I’ll let you come. Now extend your arms.”

  Ah, she knew him so well. It would start as slight discomfort, but in time, his arms would get heavy, his shoulders would start to burn, and it would only make the rest better, more intense. His breath came in sharp little pants as she unfastened his trousers and pulled out his cock. Though she’d washed him with the cloth, this was the first time bare hands besides his own had ever touched it. His thighs quivered, tensed, as she gave a few experimental squeezes, just hard enough that a desperate whine escaped him.

  “You’re such a horny beast,” she whispered.

  He didn’t know what was more acutely arousing, the heat of her hands or the thrill of knowing that with her, the accusation was true. Thankfully she didn’t torment him that way for long and skimmed out of her pants as if she’d been waiting for this moment.

  “Ask me to take you.” Her hot breath teased his ear. “Beg for it.”

  “Please.” The only word he could get out, from somewhere dim and deep.

  Then she sank onto his cock in a smooth sweep, grinding immediately with all her strength. She gave no quarter, no chance for him to get used to the feeling. This was all for her—her need, her pace, her desire—and it was just as she’d promised. He was a cock she was using. His arms burned as she fucked him, and it was just so hot and perfect that he went light-headed from the strain of holding back. His heart thundered and he couldn’t get his breath. Gavriel gazed at her face in a wondering daze, in and out, light and shadow as she rode him, focused and relentless and magnificent.

  God, this feels—

  No, can’t.

  Hold on.

  “I’m getting close, Gavriel. Move with me now.”

  Nearly mindless, he pushed up as she came down, marveling at the sleek heat, the slickness of her. She was panting too, head thrown back, and then she took his hand, and he knew what to do with his fingers because she’d taught him to do it with his mouth first. She gasped and clenched and he managed not to let go, though it was the toughest challenge he’d ever faced.

  “There, that’s good. You can come. Here, I’ll help you.” Then she brushed aside his shirt tenderly and bit down on his shoulder, hard enough to bruise, hidden where only a lover would see the mark.

  He came so hard that he saw stars and she had to hold him to keep him from falling sideways off the chair. Magda wrapped her arms around him then, stroking his
back, his shoulders. Her weight was hurting his legs a little, but he didn’t move.

  “Thank you,” he said hoarsely.

  “For what? The great sex?”

  Slowly he lowered his arms to complete the hug, hardly daring to touch without permission even now, but she let it happen, and gratitude cascaded through him like fireworks. “For letting me feel this. I thought it would always be strange, dark, and awful, not something I could ever share with someone else, but this…”

  It was sheer joy, the sweetest he’d ever known.

  16.

  This is intense.

  Magda understood the importance of aftercare, so she held Gavriel for as long as he seemed to want. And while “You’re welcome,” seemed like too simple a response for what he was saying, she got that he was unraveling some personal stuff.

  Later, he’d be grateful that she’d taught him enough for him to know what to look for when he went searching for a more appropriate partner. Odd, that gave her a twinge, though she should be used to this catch-and-release lifestyle by now.

  “You good?” she asked eventually.

  “Yes. We should—”

  “Tidy up. It’s fun to tease about the idea of being caught, but I suspect I’d find the reality more awkward than exciting,” Mags said.

  Gavriel’s reply surprised her with its gentleness. “I agree wholeheartedly.”

  She didn’t know how to handle that look in his eyes, all soft heat. Before, she had thought the color was strange and unsettling, but now, it made her think of lava that ran beneath volcanic rock, warming the world from the inside out.

  It was a good thing they got their shit together fast because the stable boy breezed in two minutes after Gavriel buttoned his pants. Gray snorted an unnecessary warning, and Mags gave thanks that Titus hadn’t come out, as he’d smell the sex, even amid the barnyard odors.

  “Thanks for keeping watch,” the boy said cheerfully.

  “My pleasure,” Gavriel answered, shooting a hooded look in her general direction.