He pressed her into the dirt to hide from orcs. She felt something else pressing against her. Neither of them spoke of it. Not yet.
Part 10 What the Wolf Wants
The journey was quiet. Not silent or peaceful, more a pressure that Lizbeth felt growing with each step she took. Osric’s silent presence only added to the weight of her discomfort. He barely spoke, beyond the occasional grunt, and never looked directly at her. The stiffness of his posture an accusation that she was an unwelcome burden. Lizbeth spent much of her day staring at his back, at his silvered hair as she followed him day after day.
He moved with a confident smoothness. Head up and alert, always aware of his surroundings, his feet never making a sound. Her mind flashed back to the night before and his animalistic coupling with Illona. She was glad she was walking behind him then, that he couldn’t see the flush on her cheeks or the way she bit her lower lip. Illona knew what she’d seen, did Osric too?
Her head was full of sights and thoughts, her world reshaped since the orc invasion and her now innocent seeming dalliance with Darrick. The thought of him and what must have happened to him felt like a fresh wound in her chest. It was, oddly, easier to think of the look on Maid Thiphania’s face as she eagerly succumbed to the Orcs, or of Illona’s moans of pleasure as she was mounted. As confusing as the feelings were that those thoughts stirred in her, they didn’t hurt, in truth, she could admit they still excited her even if they shouldn’t, and at least they were a distraction…
