She snorted. “You’re welcome.”
“You almost died. Your wounds required hours of healing. Never put yourself between me and a predator again.”
She leaned in, anger flaring. She latched onto it. It was much better than the fear, sorrow, grief, and knowing she had no way home.
“Oh, I won’t. You know what? Next time, I might push you at the damn hexid.”
Rhain snorted.
“You’re an arrogant ass,” she snapped.
He caught her chin, and she clamped her hand on his thick wrist.
“Don’t touch me, or I’ll take you down,” she said.
“You could try, but I highly doubt you’d succeed.”
She narrowed her gaze. “I could totally take you.”
“You must still be injured. You appear to have delusions.”
They shifted closer, until their bodies brushed.
His fingers tightened on her chin.
The air lodged in her lungs. He smelled so damn good. He was solid, warm, and real in all the craziness. “Rhain…”
He lowered his head.
Mal made a sound, and slid her hands into his thick hair, dragged his mouth to hers.
Holy cow.
The kiss was bold, sensuous, and hot. He didn’t waste time being tentative, nor did she. She tangled her tongue with his, drawing in his taste. He growled and she enjoyed the pure pleasure that spiraled through her.
His hand untied her hair and it spilled around her shoulders. He stroked it through his fingers.
“It’s so soft,” he murmured against her lips.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered.
Mal didn’t want to think. She wanted to stay lost in this pleasure.
He kissed her again and her panties went damp. His mouth moved across her cheekbone, and she realized he was kissing her small beauty spot on her cheek. His finger stroked her eyebrow.
“How did you get this scar?”
“Bar fight.” She’d been fourteen. She and Rusty had been grabbing a burger, and a fight had broken out. She hadn’t ducked quick enough.
She dragged Rhain’s mouth back to hers.
One of his hands cupped her breast, and she pushed into that touch. He made a sound, part growl, part groan. As he toyed with her nipple, she moved her mouth along his firm jaw, then nipped it.
God, she was so lost in the pleasure, she couldn’t think straight. Nothing else mattered, only Rhain, only this heat between them.
The sound of a door opening had her springing back from him. They were both breathing heavily.
Rhain growled.
Two servers in long tunics stepped inside. “Is there anything you require from the kitchens, my lord?” one asked.
“No.”
With quick nods, the man and woman backed out.
Mal rose, her movements jerky. Her head cleared a little now. Enough that she could think.
When Rhain was close, all she could think about was him. And getting her hands on him. And what he’d look like naked.
She gripped the back of her neck. She had no business thinking about getting laid when Poppy was out there, alone, scared.
“I… Well…” She scraped a hand over her face. “Shit.”
He cleared his throat, and she noticed the flush along his cheekbones. “Mal—”
She threw an arm into the air. “Did you use some sort of energy magic on me?”
His face darkened. “No.”
“There is only one thing I want. One thing I have to focus on, and that’s finding my friend.”
He was silent.
She cleared her throat. “This…can’t happen. I’m so far from home, can never return—” her voice cracked and she hated it “—and Tavith said I’m changing. That Zhalto is altering me somehow.” She shook her head. “I only have the bandwidth to deal with finding Poppy.”
His face shut down and he took a step back.
Mal’s heart squeezed, suddenly hating the distance between them. God, she was confused.
“I don’t make a habit of taking advantage of vulnerable women.”
She bristled. “I’m not vulnerable.”
“Like you said, you’re dealing with a lot.”
“I need to go—”
His head whipped up. “You wouldn’t survive a day in the Barrens.”
She gritted her teeth. “I have to—”
He held up a hand. “You’re a formidable fighter, Mal, but the Barrens combined with Krastin and his beasts…that’s something you can’t take on alone.”
She sagged. “I have to find Poppy.”
Rhain watched her steadily, then he nodded. “I’ll help you.”
Chapter Eight
The next morning, Mal paced the corridor with its shiny, polished floor and pots of blooming flowers.
The night before, Rhain had left her at the door of a plush bedroom, with a promise to collect her today.
And a promise to look for Poppy.
Mal had slept well, but she’d had weird dreams.
She dreamed of being pulled in a certain direction, like a compulsion. She rubbed the center of her chest. It ached.
Her other dreams were of kissing Rhain.
And doing a lot more than kissing.
God. She sagged against the wall. She’d kissed an alien king.
She shook her head. It had been a hell of a kiss, but right now, she was shoving it away in her mental “crazy shit to deal with later” box.
Some women walked past her—beautiful, elegant, soft-looking—covered in perfume scents, with flowers in their hair. They eyed her curiously.
Mal was pretty sure her leather pants and fitted, black top weren’t up to scratch. She was wearing fresh clothes that had been left for her. Like magic, they were the perfect size. She’d had a glorious, extra-long shower both last night and this morning. The fancy shower had water, but also some ray of yellow light. She felt cleaner than she ever had before. She looked at her callused hands. She wasn’t—and never would be—beautiful, elegant or soft, and she didn’t want to be. She could clean up and managed fit and pretty. That was enough for her.
Heavy footsteps sounded.
She looked up and saw Rhain heading in her direction.
The impact of him hit her. Damn, the guy was really something. That irresistible blend of masculine attraction and power. He wore a fitted, black, sleeveless shirt tucked into his leather pants. A large belt circled his lean hips and red fabric was tucked around it. The hilts of his swords were visible over his shoulders.
The women in the flirty dresses curtsied, interested looks on their faces. Rhain nodded at them.
Mal’s nose wrinkled. He probably had a harem of gorgeous women to do his every bidding.
That silver gaze swept over her. “Good morning, Mal.”
“Your Overlordness.” She did a bad impression of the women’s curtsies.
His gaze narrowed. “When my people do that, I sense respect. When you do it, I sense the opposite.”
“Guess I did it right, then.”
He shook his head, like he didn’t quite know what to make of her. “Are you ready?”
She nodded. Her sword rested on her back, safe in its scabbard.
“Did you pay the weapons shop?” She’d asked him to pay for the sword and knife she’d stolen.
“I did. They overlooked your theft because they were ecstatic to get a recommendation from the overlord.”
They walked side-by-side down the hall.
“When do we leave?” she asked.