“You should get some rest,” Tersah says as the moon claims its throne in the night sky.
“But...” I glance around, taking in the bandages, the bottles of herbs, the wine flask. “I thought they would return today.”
“I hoped they would,” Tersah says. “Maybe tomorrow. I’ll wake you if they return during the night.”
“You should get some rest too,” I tell her.
“I will as soon as I get back.”
“Where are you going,” I ask, thinking most people in the camp will be retiring for the night, and our camp is in the middle of nowhere.
“To fetch you Kyanite herbs and seeds.”
“You’re traveling now?”
Tersah bobs her head and smiles. “My ride should be waiting for me.”
“Yourride—Oh your Hematite friend and his portal,” I say with a smirk.
She straightens her army of bracelets. “It’s good to have such friends.”
I nod and walk away. If I could conjure Hector right now, I would. I press my hand to my chest and concentrate. It feels the same. That ache.
Then, he’s all right. If he were injured or worse, I would know. It would be impossible not to know.
[Hector, I miss you.]I close my eyes, waiting to hear his voice.
[What are you wearing?]
I frown and glance around, as if people could actually hear what he said to me.
[Why does that matter?]I look down at my surcoat and wonder if there’s something wrong with it.
[Because I’m imagining you naked right now.]
I gasp and snap my tent open. [You’re teasing me. I know you are.]
[No. I really am imagining you.]His voice, that low, deep rumble, sounds as good in my mind as it does in person.
[So, you imagine me naked when you’re not near me, but when you are, you don’t bed me?]I ask, not able to disguise my hurt.
[I imagine you naked all the time, Sol. So, be a good girl, and tell me what you’re wearing.]
[I won’t.]I lift my chin, as if he can actually see me.
[You will.]
My long surcoat flutters around me as I plop on the center of my bed and roll my eyes.[What are you going to do—make me? That’s impossible, considering you’re not here with me.]
[Would you like that? Me making you?]
Heat warms my cheeks. Impossible heat. I swipe at my face and frown.[I would like many things.]
[Like what?]His voice lowers, turning raspy and carrying a raw, textured richness. [Tell me what you would like.]
[Hector…]
[Sol…]When I remain silent, he makes his demand again, this time with a hint of a plea.[Tell me, Sol.]
