Drink of Me (18 page)

“And now you do. Don’t worry,
kébé,” he thought with pure heat,
“you’re going to learn everything you need to know about me. I promise you that.”

There was no thought response, but Reule felt the sexual excitement that surged through her right down to his toes. He groaned softly, streaking both hands through his hair.

He began to plot how to keep Para far, far away from Mystique for the rest of the night.

“By the Lord, Reule had better bed that wench soon,” Rye growled as he restlessly paced the dining hall. “Mara is going to start thinking her pussy is made of gold if I keep frequenting her bed like this.”

“You mean it’s not?” Saber joked, chuckling softly. Rye was the most sensitive of the Pack and he was suffering the worst of it, but they were all feeling the backlash of Reule’s unfulfilled needs.

“I don’t get it,” Delano grumbled. “Reule has chased women before. Wanted women before. And yeah, it’s made us all a little edgy because of our connection, but this is unreal! It’s practically savage! What to hell is it about her that’s so different? Isn’t anyone else worried about her being this close to Reule?”

“That’s your frustration talking,” Darcio countered, by far the calmest of the Packmates. “The fact is, Reule is in
mnise
, and it’s been a long time since he gave himself over to it. Mystique is provoking him whether he wants it or not. Stop obsessing over your erections and pay attention. Look at them. Feel them. Feel Reule when he stands back and watches her.”

Darcio leaned forward toward them. “We were all giving him a hard time today by flirting with her, and it was a kick, but did any of you really feel that jealousy?
Jealousy.
From Reule, who cares about only two things: Jeth and the well-being of this Pack. He displayed hostility toward us because we were buzzing around a woman he has marked as one hundred percent Prime territory. Kidding aside, if any of us dared to touch her, we’d find ourselves in the middle of a challenge more savage than we could even imagine. Pack oaths would mean nothing. It would be as if one of us challenged his rule.”

“Darcio, you have a point?” Rye said shortly.

Darcio knew all their tempers were a little taut because of the hormones flowing so strongly through them. “The point is, my friends, that you need to start looking at Mystique and wondering how you will feel when she becomes Prima.”

“To hell!” Delano barked.

Saber snorted. “Reule would never wed an outlander.”

“I can’t imagine Reule wed at all, and neither should you, Darcio. You know him best of all of us. He’s not going to get tied down until he has no other choice,” Rye said.

“Rye, that remark would be true if Reule had been forced to choose from the flock of marriageable noblewomen he considers to be uptight, grasping, and spoiled. He would have done his duty eventually, but now there’s an opportunity for him to do his duty, but to do it with someone he actually likes a great deal.

“Saber, while marrying an outlander would be risky and something he’d never have considered doing before this, I believe Mystique has changed his mind about what an outlander is capable of learning and appreciating about the Sánge.” Darcio took a deep breath and leaned back with a contented half-smile on his lips. “Then there’s the fact that he’s in heat for her, she’s a powerful ’pathic, and, oh yeah, she’s a sweetheart.”

“To hell,” Delano repeated, though it was more thoughtful than a curse.

“She’s coming. With Reule,” Saber said suddenly, making all of them stand up straight behind their chairs. There was a conscious shedding of frustrations and emotional reactions to what Darcio had just said, and for those who couldn’t shed, protective walls rose in defense of any leaks that might disturb their Prime.

It was one thing to consider and discuss the Prime’s love life, but it was quite something else for him to
know
it was being considered and discussed.

Reule knew something was wrong the instant he stepped into the room and found things unusually calm and quiet on the ’pathic front. His Pack had a bad habit of blanking him out like that when they didn’t want him to know something was bothering them. He glanced at Darcio, who was by far the most relaxed of the group, while he guided Mystique into the room with a gentle hand at her back. This time she wore gloves all the way up to her elbows, and he felt sympathy for her fear. She had a fully fledged set of powers, but no true sense of how to control them. However, he had faith that she’d either remember or relearn.

Mystique felt highly self-conscious as she took her seat at Reule’s left hand. The last time she’d been in this room, she’d unearthed terrible feelings and secrets. Tonight, everyone was acting strangely, different from their lighthearted play of earlier. She worried her bottom lip with her teeth as she wondered if they were remembering the previous night’s meal.

Then there was Reule, and that was an entirely different landscape of emotions and wild thoughts. She could hardly peek at him without her heart racing into overdrive and her skin bursting out in a moist flush. He’d been so gentle with her, so careful and respectful, that she’d never once expected that sudden rupture of savage passion from him. Not that she hadn’t known he was capable of it. She had known that he was holding himself under a very tight leash of control. But to have it sprung on her so suddenly had left her with only half a brain and knees that were decidedly weak.

One thing about having no memory was that she had nothing to compare the experience to. She was rather glad. She expected everything she’d known beforehand would pale in comparison, and he hadn’t had to work very hard at it. She thought of his hands on her, inside her, and her face flushed while her body went taut and damp all over again. She had to struggle to control her thoughts, to keep her gaze averted from him so she wouldn’t begin to crave what she hadn’t yet had. The room was full of telepaths and empaths, and it was the last thing she wanted to be thinking around them.

She felt as though all eyes were on her and examining her from all quarters. It made her very uncomfortable. Even Reule was staring at her, but she suspected she knew what he was thinking. He had definite plans for her tonight, and it was about time. She needed him. Badly. Her entire body cried for him. The intensity of it left her with a fine tremor of excitement shivering constantly through her. She’d been given a wild taste of Reule’s passion, and she wanted more. She wanted endless time wrapped up in it. She wanted Reule.

She watched him as he ate and spoke to his friends, thinking of all she had learned about him. His kindness, fairness, and tenderness were wondrous. He was gruff and even cold when it was imperative that he be that way, and always quiet and observant before he acted or reacted. He had a temper, but it was usually set off over matters of honor. It was hard to see that as a bad thing. Honor, truth, and friendship enriched his rule. He laughed when he wanted to, wasted no energy on the frivolous, and cared about his city first and foremost.

All these disparate qualities came together to make up an extraordinary man. One she was quickly coming to care about. If nothing else, his choice in trusted companions would have told her all she needed to know about him. Each man was unique in his own way, and their personalities were as different as the seasons. The binding fiber was the honor and loyalty they all had for the man they loved above all others. The fact that these powerful men loved Reule, enough to hand him power over whether they lived or died, made an impressive impact.

Reule was wishing he’d arranged a private supper for just himself and Mystique. He was getting a little tired of the distracting presence of his Pack. But then he’d have Para hovering over them, and that would be just as bad. What he wanted, what he needed, was Mystique in his bed, beneath him and surrounding him. He’d been in a state of arousal ever since their encounter in the alcove and he ached with the sheer potency of his desire for her. He hardly ate anything as the meal progressed, and he knew he was staring at her more often than not because a permanent blush had taken up residence on her fey features.

Needing contact with her, he reached out and covered her near hand with his own, closing her into his palm possessively and watching as she rode out a shimmer of excitement before she sneaked a peek at him from below her lashes. He longed for her mind in that moment, but he resisted provoking her when there were other strong ’pathics nearby.

He wasn’t stupid. He was well aware of the backlash his Pack was picking up from him as he struggled with his desire for Mystique. He knew he’d never felt the
mnise
so strongly before, and he was convinced it was Mystique who caused the intensity. The result was a powerful urge to throw her over his shoulder this very minute and drag her behind closed doors where—

“Damn!”

Rye lurched up out of his chair, drawing the attention of the entire table. The Prime Blade swung his gaze to Reule and his dark expression turned to one of pure surprise. A tangible ripple began to flow through the Pack until Reule finally withdrew from his fog of preoccupation enough to realize why Rye was looking at him so strangely.

“Jakals.” Reule heaved to his feet as he spat the cursed word, turning to the door just as one of Rye’s lieutenants came rushing in, one of Saber’s sergeants hot behind him.

“My Prime! Jakals. A horde of them. There’s fire beyond the walls!”

The Pack mobilizing all at once was a daunting thing. Gone were the courtly manners and good-natured smiles of earlier, and in their place rose stone-cold warriors. ’Pathic power surged throughout the room instantly as every man opened himself to the others, a chain of communication so familiar to them it was like breathing. Mystique could feel the feedback of it buzzing all around her, even though she wasn’t sensitive in the same way that they were.

Reule stepped up to her briefly, folding his large hands around her small shoulders and squeezing them in tight reassurance. “Don’t worry. This happens a lot out here. Without the snows, the field stubble and winds will spread the fire unless we fight it back quickly. I’ll return later. Don’t wait for me.” He gently brushed an affectionate finger down the slope of her nose before releasing her and rushing out with his Packmates.

She stood staring at the abandoned room for all of a minute before she closed her gaping mouth with a snap and shook indignation into herself with a sharp shudder.

“To hell!”

She scooped up her skirts and ran for the stairs. Cursing her corsets and high-handed males, she burst into her rooms and gave Pariedes the fright of her life. She reached for her laces and began to whip them apart.

“I need trousers. A boy’s should fit,” she panted as she wriggled out of her overdress, leaving the plum creation in a pool as she stepped out of it.

“But…” Para began.

“Para, don’t give me any arguments! Fetch me breeches and a shirt or I swear I’ll walk naked through this keep searching for them myself!” Para closed her gaping mouth quickly when she realized how perfectly serious her mistress was. “And send that blasted girl in here to help me with this damnable corset in the meantime. Now hurry!”

Pariedes had gotten to know her charge quite well over the past few days, and she found her to be an intelligent and even-tempered woman for the most part. This was the first time she’d ever heard her address anyone with the authoritative tone of a woman used to giving a command and having it obeyed. It resulted in Para helping Mystique into a set of boy’s snug pants, shirt, and vest within minutes. It was indecent, but the sigh her foundling released and the expertise she used to bind the clothing onto her body said that this wasn’t the first time she’d dressed herself in such a fashion. It was scandalous, but Para had to admit she wore the disguise terribly well.

“Para, dearest, I need you to listen carefully,” Mystique said breathlessly as she rapidly twisted her dark hair into a plait. “There’s fire on the flatlands. One of the soldiers mentioned farms. That will mean injuries, burns, smoke cough. They’ll need a healer there, rather than waiting here. I need supplies. I haven’t had a chance to make salves or creams yet, but we can find disinfectants, clean cloths, and fresh jars of water for the cough. Men. Good strong men and litters to carry out the injured. We cannot have them in the way of a shifting fire. I need someone who can keep her head and stay beside me. A girl with nerve and a head for listening to instructions. You know everyone in the keep.” Mystique looked at her with expectancy and waited while Pariedes digested all of what she was saying and its implications. She waited to see if Para’s instincts would be to help or to hinder.

“I know just the girl,” Para breathed at last.

Reule hadn’t bothered to saddle Fit, time being precious and the smoke having been visible even as they’d exited the bailey of the keep. Now, rounding the fire burning ferociously in the field grasses, his legs gripped Fit’s bare sides and they tore over the land as a perfectly blended creature of speed. He rode the off side of the fire, the winds pushing smoke and heat away from him and making it just barely bearable for him to approach so close to the line. It was a dangerous thing to do, flatland winds being extremely shifty and unpredictable. The wind could turn suddenly and he would be ash before he even realized it.

But the speed and dangerous shortcut were very necessary.

The fire was extremely close to the walls of Jeth, only a few farms standing in the mile between fire and civilization. The height of the walls would prevent most damage, but sparks could travel forever on the wind, and all it would take was one spark on a thatch roof within the walls to light hell around them.

They must keep the fire from advancing toward Jeth even so much as a foot. The wind was partially in their favor; there was even a river of good size to act as a firebreak. What Reule didn’t trust was the Jakals.

They wouldn’t be far. They’d want to watch and devour the fear and anxiety of the Sánge as they struggled to save their homes. They’d never pass up the opportunity to gobble up such powerful emotions. And if they were close, then they were capable of making the situation much worse. Reule wanted armed guards and soldiers riding the flatlands in tight circuits while their compatriots fought the hellish fire itself. He was too far from Saber at the moment to make the orders clear telepathically, so he was racing back around the fire and toward the walls of Jeth.