The woman's voice caught his immediate attention and he whipped to face her. Something was different about her now but he couldn't put his finger on it. A distracting amount of skin was showing and she stood next to one of the braziers, tilted her head, and grinned cheekily.
Brahgen almost didn't notice that she held the weapon in her hands until she flicked it up and caught it. A smile still played on her lips, one that looked like a leopard about to pounce on a gazelle from the treetops while she licked her chops at the prospect of a good meal to come.
"Well…" He needed a moment to clear his throat and drag his mind back from where it tried to decide how low she could get her dress without it sliding off. "Well…"
"You said that already."
"So I did." He nodded. "I'll be buggered."
"You don’t seem the type who would enjoy that kind of thing," she countered smoothly with a smirk. "But if you're interested, I'm sure we can find the time. The night is still young, after all."
Everyone around him laughed and his cheeks turned bright red, visible even in the firelight.
She took a step closer and made sure that no one was stepping in the way before she tossed the blade to him with a flick of her wrist. Pure reflex saved him from being pierced by the weapon and he reached out reflexively to snatch the dagger from the air without so much as a single thought about the dangers involved.
Thankfully, he grasped the handle instead of the blade itself, which meant his fingers weren't sliced off, but he realized that his heart pounded a little too hard in his chest with something close to disbelief that he'd been able to catch it.
After a moment to collect himself, Brahgen managed to hide how his hands were shaking by sheathing the dagger.
"It seems I owe you for a wager," he said, surprised that there was no tremor in his voice. "But I never did explain what the reward might be."
"Then I suppose you'll have to negotiate rather hard, wouldn't you say?"
The young dwarf cleared his throat and felt something odd happening simply from seeing her gaze locked onto him like that. It wasn’t that he hadn't felt it before but never quite so intense or as quickly. His mouth was dry and blood rushed from his head directly to his groin.
His intentions as to how he would settle the wager would be all too apparent in no time at all.
And she could see it as she stepped a little closer than was comfortable, placed her hand on his shoulder, and leaned forward so he could catch the hot, sweet scent wafting from her neck.
"Don't you worry. I'll go easy on you this first time."
A small grin slid across his face as her fingers traced over his cheek. He barely noticed Skharr standing nearby. The barbarian grinned like he had planned it all from the beginning.
But there was no time to think about that. His mind would certainly be elsewhere and he made no protest as she slipped her arm into his and pulled him away from the festivities.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Skharr felt as though he had done the boy a good turn. Evanessa seemed like a nice enough young woman and between the two of them, he was sure they would find something to do together.
She was something of a natural when it came to thievery, which meant Brahgen was already watering at the mouth.
He shook his head as they wandered to another corner of the hall, sat, and began to talk. Salah clearly had some reservations but gave the two their privacy. Her time with her son would have to wait a while.
For the barbarian, the day had already been long enough and a good night's rest began to sound more appealing by the moment. The celebration would likely last into the small hours of the morning if he knew anything about how much dwarves liked their feasts, and he simply did not have the energy for it.
After a few toasts were raised and a few more plates were served, he asked to be excused and a guard led him through the maze of hallways and what he assumed were technically tunnels to the room he had left a few hours earlier.
"No one can say that dwarves don't know how to have a good time," he muttered as the doors closed behind him. Skharr took a moment to stretch lazily, rolled his shoulders a few times before he unbuckled his belt, and placed his weapons carefully across one of the chairs to be tended to in the morning.
Except, he reminded himself, they didn’t. He still needed to get used to the fact that neither dagger nor sword needed to be oiled or honed regularly, and he assumed that had something to do with the magic that was supposed to be infused in them. It annoyed him to have to remind himself of it. But he would need to tend to his other weapons. His ax, other dagger, and his arrowheads would need attention.
Once he returned to Verenvan, he would have to buy a few more arrowheads to replace those he had lost. He only had fifteen of them now.
He pulled his shirt off next, tossed it onto the same chair, and followed it quickly by kicking his boots off and finally, his trousers and undergarments. Having a wash before bed was probably a good idea.
"Well now, that is not something a goddess sees every day."
Skharr spun with no weapon in hand but his fists raised and ready to attack. He froze when he saw Ahverna seated on a nearby chair, her legs crossed as she raised her hands to clap slowly.
"I did have high hopes for what I would see here today and you have done nothing but impress, barbarian."
He cleared his throat and straightened. "Well…I've managed to bring your follower in safely and delivered unto him a night I doubt he'll forget. Or remember, depending on how much ale he's ingested by the end of it."
"So I've heard." She stood smoothly, walked closer to him, and ran her fingers lightly over his shoulders. "You know, I've had two more dwarves praying to me this night alone. I might find myself in a similar position as Janus and Theros before too long."
The barbarian smirked and shook his head but he didn’t move away from her hand or the chills it sent up his spine.
"I did not know that," he answered as she circled him without letting her hand leave his bare skin. "Perhaps you have Brahgen to thank for it."
"Perhaps I do," she admitted. "Or perhaps I should thank the famed Scourge of the Waters? Or was it Dragon Bane? Or did you prefer Barbarian of Theros?"
"I generally prefer Skharr DeathEater," he stated firmly and didn’t look around as her fingers moved away from his shoulders and instead, traced down the valley of his spine. "It’s far simpler and easy to remember."
Ahverna laughed and he stiffened a little when her hand cupped his exposed ass and squeezed it gently. "Are you saying you don't need the accolades?"
Skharr turned, let her hand remain on his rear, and allowed her to see the effect her touch had on him. He was sure there was a trace of magic in it as well as he could feel his arousal growing more enthusiastically than it had in the past.
"Well," he said and his voice sounded a little breathy as her fingers moved and her nails dragged over his thigh before they settled at his groin in a more intimate caress. "I've never been tested by a goddess in the past. It makes a man wonder if he has what it takes to rise to the occasion."
She smiled and slid one hand over his chest to send tingles of sensation rippling across his body as she leaned a little closer.