She didn’t need this from his body right now. And even as he was thinking it, she felt his body’s reaction, and stiffened.
Resting his hand on her hip, he lowered his mouth to her ear. “Shhh. You’re safe—you know I would never hurt you, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she said weakly.
Jaren mounted his own steed and brought the mare around, coming up even with Tyriel and Aryn. “Are you ready, my Princess?”
She still sat rigidly but gave a short not.
“To Averne, then, where you will heal, become strong and healthy.” Jaren bowed his head to his Princess. Then, with a soft command, had his elvish mount turning once more to take the lead. Jaren’s steed was a tall, willowy mare, golden, with a white mane, and blue eyes, a sharp contrast to the fae male’s dark hair and dark clothes.
Tyriel still sat so stiffly.
Aryn feared she’d break. Forcing himself to relax, he shifted in his saddle then took hold of the reins. “Are you comfortable?”
“I’m fine.”
He closed his eyes at the stiff formality of her voice. The bright, laughing woman might be forever lost.
“Thank you.”
The words were so soft, he almost didn’t hear them.
He leaned closer, vaguely aware that Jaren had called for them to move and Kilidare had settled into a smooth, quick trot with no guidance from Aryn.
“Why are you thanking me?” he asked.
“Onward, Kilidare!” Jaren called out abruptly and whatever answer she might have offered was lost as the mount beneath Aryn lunged, taking off at a ground-eating pace.
Tyriel’s hand shot out, clamping down onto Aryn’s right thigh.
He clenched his jaw and told himself he’d burn in the fires of hell. Then he dipped his head so he could breathe in the soft scent of her hair.
Long moments passed with neither of them speaking.
But then Tyriel murmured his name, voice so quiet, he barely heard.
“You came for me.”
Convulsively tightening the arm he’d wrapped around her waist, he turned his face into her hair. “Of course, I came for you.”
There was nothing else said for a very long while.
She relaxed by minute degrees and he thought she might have fallen asleep.
But then she shifted and he had the impression she wanted to look at him. He tugged on the reins and Kilidare obligingly slowed. “Are you getting tired?” he asked.
She didn’t answer for what felt like an age but finally, she gave a stiff nod. He lifted her and repositioned her, grabbing the blanket he’d secured for just this purpose, keeping it folded up and using it as an extra cushion. Then he pulled her snugly against him and wrapped his cloak around her.
Now she sat practically in his lap. “Alright, Kilidare. Go.”
The steed lunged forward again. Jaren hadn’t slowed, but it only took the stallion a handful of moments to catch the other man.
Tyriel was looking at him.
Aryn was acutely aware of it, but didn’t react until she said his name.
“Yes?”
“How long?” she whispered, voice rough.
“How long have we searched for you?” he asked. Blowing out a rough breath, he said, “Consciously? For more than a month. But…in truth? I haven’t stopped looking for you since you walked away. I retraced the routes we’d take, hoping to see you. I was on the outskirts of Bentyl Faire, more than a week late and told myself it was a job that took me there, but it was you and when I didn’t see you, I told myself it didn’t matter, but…still I looked.”
Her gaze had fallen from his and stared at Kilidare’s neck, her fingers tangled in his mane.
“Tyriel, I’ve gone mad without you. You’ll never know just how mad. And when I discovered you were in danger, I was ready to tear the land and all its kingdoms apart to find you.”
A fine shudder wracked her. But she didn’t respond.
Aryn told himself she needed time, time to heal, time to recover. Just…time.
And when she shifted to cuddle into his chest, he told himself that maybe everything would be well.
As the day bled away into late afternoon, eventually giving way into evening, they slowed.
Jaren had traveled this region and had a spot in mind for camp, so Aryn only had to keep his senses alert for danger.
It left too much of his mind free to focus on Tyriel.
After they’d stopped to rest their mounts and let them feed while they took a quick meal for themselves, Tyriel had chosen to take her former position astride Kilidare, but she relaxed into Aryn’s body more easily this time and one hand rested on his thigh, her finger drawing a pattern over and over on the worn leather of his breeches.
What is she thinking about? Aryn’s thoughts were more to himself, but Irian’s answer didn’t really come as a surprise.
“Not one thing. She isn’t thinking at all, about anything. She cannot think right now, not much.”
Aryn hadn’t really asked it with any desire for an answer, but now that he had one, he focused his attention on Irian. “Is she talking to you?”
“No. I’ve…tried, and there’s no response from her. I feel her presence, brother, but that’s it. Her thoughts move around me like water flowing around a large boulder in a stream.” Irian sounded…weary. “And that’s fine. You’re what she needs. Just you being here, touching and holding her brings her comfort. That’s a good thing.”
Irian withdrew and didn’t say another word the rest of the day.
Because of his words, though, Aryn withstood the torture of her hand on him, ignoring the ache in his cock.
He’d enjoy torments far less sweet than this if it would fill a need she had.
* * * * *
As Jaren moved into the woods to fetch more of the mushrooms and foliage needed for making her brew, Tyriel stood staring up at the star-studded sky with lost, lonesome eyes.
She was so awfully quiet, even for her. She knew they worried. She wished she cared enough to soothe their worries, but she didn’t have the energy.
Things were broken inside her, and she wasn’t quite certain how to handle it.
Two large warm hands landed on her shoulders from behind.
She jolted even as deep inside, she recognized him.
With a sigh, she leaned back against Aryn’s hard, firm body. She felt him stiffen, and then relax, his arms coming around her to tug her close. His warmth seeped into her skin. Sadly, it didn’t penetrate the aching knot of cold that lived deep within her.
Aryn nuzzled her neck, the simple sweetness bringing tears to her eyes.
She blinked them away.
“I was a fool, leaving the way I did. I felt a darkness waiting, had heard Irian’s warning,” she whispered softly. “I damn near died. Worse than that, I endangered my people, my mother’s clans.”
“Don’t. You’re not to blame for what that monster did.”
“Aren’t I?” She laughed and it echoed around them, a hollow brittle sound that made her cringe. “I knew something lurked in the shadows. I’d felt it. I’d been warned. I went anyway.”
“Nobody made him attack you, Tyriel. He did it on his own.”
She pushed at his hands. He resisted at first and panic fluttered in her chest. Before it could take flight, he released her and she moved away, hating how even those few steps exhausted her. Turning, she glared at him. “Nobody makes a lion attack, or a wolf. They do it because they are predators.”