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and fade into the forest. Magic torques! She snorted as she shoved the undergrowth aside, snatching up her pack to check on the map. Turning to survey the peaceful camp one last time, she backed away down a forest path. Safe. The breath whistled out between her teeth and her stride lengthened. A brisk five minutes later, she came out on the far side of the camp. Nothing moved in the sun, save the pod of grazing vranee. Muttering an oath, she plunged back into the trees. She must have got turned around somehow. Embarrassing for a scout, but it happened sometimes. After half an hour of effort, she leaned against the trunk of a tree, the shirt plastered to her back with sweat and her heart hammering. It didn t matter which direction she chose, whether she walked, trotted or ran, her feet turned her around and brought her back to the camp. Sobbing with frustration, she pulled out her spare blade and wrenched it from the scabbard. It was razor sharp, but she d gone beyond caring if she cut her own throat. Slipping it beneath the torque, she sawed with increasing desperation. A firm hand stayed hers. It won t work, Anje. Trey stood beside her, kindness in his hazel eyes. Nothing does, except trust. She spat an epithet and gave him her back. The Matriarchs would be expecting her. She needed to be gone. Now. The greater the trust, the greater the distance. At that, she glanced over her shoulder. Trey smiled, cocky and sweet. You could try it, you know. Trusting Brin? She meant it to sound derisive, but it came out as a wistful croak. There s no one like him. Trey s smile faded. 26 Gift of the Goddess Anje let herself slide to the base of the tree. She stretched her legs out in front of her with a sigh. Thank the Mother for that. She slanted a glance at Trey. Who is he?Whatis he? He s the most powerful shaman among our people, dragon-anointed. Trey settled neatly beside her. Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html By a real dragon? she queried scornfully. No. Trey s lush mouth curved and for a moment, she let herself be distracted. You ll see. He leaned his head back against the tree, gazing up into the canopy. In repose, his features were not boyish after all. There was dignity in the broad, clear forehead, strength in that stubborn jaw. Commitment. She had a sudden insight. You d die for him, wouldn t you? He shot her a glance. Yes. The sound of the vranee tearing at the tough grass was loud in the silence. A harness jingled. Would he do the same for you? He almost has. Trey s smile was wry. More than once. Tell me. Ah. The smile broadened to a grin. There s a price to be paid for stories. She knew that expression. Heat roiled in her belly. Fine. So don t tell me. Trey drew his knuckle down her cheek in a feathery caress. She shivered and slapped him away. But it s such a small price. A trifle. When she pointedly refused to ask, he chuckled. A kiss, sweetheart. Just a kiss. Don t be adolescent. Trey shrugged. After a few moments of breathing silence, she said, One? One. After the story. Know your enemy, she thought. Tell me then. Trey sat up and faced her. His eyes sparkled, more gold than green, even under the trees. He laced his fingers over his knees. I met Brin when I was sixteen. I d heard of him, of course, who in Feolin hadn t? The greatest warrior, the greatest shaman and still only twenty-six. And Lufra, the offerings he made! Unsurpassed! Offerings? We told you. He shifted his hips. Yesterday. He cupped himself, almost absently. Orgasms sustain Lufra and in return She stands between the Feolin and the might of the Sky Father and the other gods. She feeds on love, the more powerful the sensation the better and what is stronger than a climax delayed beyond bearing? Anje s mouth opened and closed, but no sound emerged. Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html 27 Denise Rossetti Trey went on, Any Feolin man may offer his cock to be milked by the body of a priestess, but the shamans of Lufra are trained to resist. Endlessly. Mother of Mercy! She had a vision of Brin, wrists bound with silken ropes, his huge, muscular body [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |