shivered,
but continued to submerge until the water covered his shoulders. With lazy
eyes, he scanned his skin. Not a blemish in sight. No pink and puckered healing
wounds. Not even the scar he’d had since childhood. Tressa used to trace it
with her fingertips and kiss it. She’d laugh about the day he got it in the
woods on the outskirts of the village.
Tressa, Connor, and Bastian had been playing tag. Connor
was running at full speed. Bastian tried to outmaneuver him by feinting a run
at the fog. Instead, he tripped and fell, landing on a tree stump that nearly
punctured a hole in his chest. He’d slung his arms around Tressa and Connor’s
shoulders, and they’d taken him to his uncle Adam for healing, a sheepish grin
on his face. They’d been warned not to play so close to the fog and Bastian
wasn’t happy he had to admit fault.
His thoughts drifted back to Tressa again. He hoped she’d
gotten the answers she needed in Hutton’s Bridge and come back to Ashoom
looking for him. If Elinor was to be believed, one of the healers was watching
for Tressa and would tell her where he’d gone. He needed to see her again, and
he wanted her away from Jarrett.
Tressa swore Jarrett was honorable and that he wouldn’t do
anything untoward, but Bastian wasn’t so sure. He saw the way Jarrett looked at
her when they were trapped in the castle fighting for their lives. The man with
the black goatee and dark skin wasn’t only worried about winning. He was
genuinely concerned about Tressa.
In part, Bastian was happy. He couldn’t be there to protect
her from Stacia. Jarrett had. For that, he was grateful. Tressa had changed
while they were separated. It wasn’t just her haircut. She seemed harder. Her face was thinner
and her arms more muscular. Still, inside she was the same girl he’d loved back
in the village. Vulnerable. Alone. Desperate for him to love her.
And he did. Very much. He couldn’t stop thinking about her
when he was awake. The dream he’d had was just that – a dream. Nothing
more. Even if it was about Elinor.
Bastian closed his eyes as the sun’s rays pierced the quiet
morning. He smiled and rolled onto his back, floating. He let the water rock
him as memories of Tressa flooded his imagination. He wanted, no needed, to see
her again. He had to know she still felt the same way about him. And if she
wasn’t sure of his feelings, he’d show her.
Blood rushed through his veins as he thought of holding her
again, caressing her tender skin, biting her lips in a moment of passion. A
searing pain in his groin tore him from his reverie. Bastian floundered in the
water, screaming out in desperation. Something had bit him.
Bastian splashed toward the riverbank, scrabbling for land,
his fingernails digging into the damp dirt. A blood-curdling scream ripped from
his throat. Within seconds Elinor came running.
“Bastian! Are you okay?” She stopped short when she saw him
lying in the mud, completely naked, his hands cupped around his genitals. “What
are you doing?”
“Something’s biting me! Help!” Bastian squirmed on the
ground, in more excruciating pain than he’d felt after getting beaten by the
men of the Black Guard. Even worse than when that huge guard had shoved his
boot onto Bastian’s balls, making him pass out.
This felt like something was sawing away at his penis bit
by bit. “Help me,” he whimpered.
Elinor sighed and sank down into the mud next to him. “Move
your hands.” She swatted Bastian’s fingers, cupped tightly around his genitals.
He didn’t budge. “I can’t help you if you don’t move them.”
“You’ll see me naked,” he said between gritted teeth. Pain
seared through his body.
“I’ve seen plenty of naked men. You’re no different,” she
said. Still, he didn’t move. “Fine. Take care of it yourself. But the piranhas
in this river don’t let go of their prey easily. They will continue to chomp
until they’ve eaten your entire manhood for
but continued to submerge until the water covered his shoulders. With lazy
eyes, he scanned his skin. Not a blemish in sight. No pink and puckered healing
wounds. Not even the scar he’d had since childhood. Tressa used to trace it
with her fingertips and kiss it. She’d laugh about the day he got it in the
woods on the outskirts of the village.
Tressa, Connor, and Bastian had been playing tag. Connor
was running at full speed. Bastian tried to outmaneuver him by feinting a run
at the fog. Instead, he tripped and fell, landing on a tree stump that nearly
punctured a hole in his chest. He’d slung his arms around Tressa and Connor’s
shoulders, and they’d taken him to his uncle Adam for healing, a sheepish grin
on his face. They’d been warned not to play so close to the fog and Bastian
wasn’t happy he had to admit fault.
His thoughts drifted back to Tressa again. He hoped she’d
gotten the answers she needed in Hutton’s Bridge and come back to Ashoom
looking for him. If Elinor was to be believed, one of the healers was watching
for Tressa and would tell her where he’d gone. He needed to see her again, and
he wanted her away from Jarrett.
Tressa swore Jarrett was honorable and that he wouldn’t do
anything untoward, but Bastian wasn’t so sure. He saw the way Jarrett looked at
her when they were trapped in the castle fighting for their lives. The man with
the black goatee and dark skin wasn’t only worried about winning. He was
genuinely concerned about Tressa.
In part, Bastian was happy. He couldn’t be there to protect
her from Stacia. Jarrett had. For that, he was grateful. Tressa had changed
while they were separated. It wasn’t just her haircut. She seemed harder. Her face was thinner
and her arms more muscular. Still, inside she was the same girl he’d loved back
in the village. Vulnerable. Alone. Desperate for him to love her.
And he did. Very much. He couldn’t stop thinking about her
when he was awake. The dream he’d had was just that – a dream. Nothing
more. Even if it was about Elinor.
Bastian closed his eyes as the sun’s rays pierced the quiet
morning. He smiled and rolled onto his back, floating. He let the water rock
him as memories of Tressa flooded his imagination. He wanted, no needed, to see
her again. He had to know she still felt the same way about him. And if she
wasn’t sure of his feelings, he’d show her.
Blood rushed through his veins as he thought of holding her
again, caressing her tender skin, biting her lips in a moment of passion. A
searing pain in his groin tore him from his reverie. Bastian floundered in the
water, screaming out in desperation. Something had bit him.
Bastian splashed toward the riverbank, scrabbling for land,
his fingernails digging into the damp dirt. A blood-curdling scream ripped from
his throat. Within seconds Elinor came running.
“Bastian! Are you okay?” She stopped short when she saw him
lying in the mud, completely naked, his hands cupped around his genitals. “What
are you doing?”
“Something’s biting me! Help!” Bastian squirmed on the
ground, in more excruciating pain than he’d felt after getting beaten by the
men of the Black Guard. Even worse than when that huge guard had shoved his
boot onto Bastian’s balls, making him pass out.
This felt like something was sawing away at his penis bit
by bit. “Help me,” he whimpered.
Elinor sighed and sank down into the mud next to him. “Move
your hands.” She swatted Bastian’s fingers, cupped tightly around his genitals.
He didn’t budge. “I can’t help you if you don’t move them.”
“You’ll see me naked,” he said between gritted teeth. Pain
seared through his body.
“I’ve seen plenty of naked men. You’re no different,” she
said. Still, he didn’t move. “Fine. Take care of it yourself. But the piranhas
in this river don’t let go of their prey easily. They will continue to chomp
until they’ve eaten your entire manhood for
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