The Centaur Queen (The Dark Queens #7)(22)

When he breathed against me, I found myself matching his tempo. We breathed in and out as one, together. I could smell his naturally masculine scent mingled with that of the night and the wild.

His grip tightened and his hand splayed out on my back. His callused fingertips began to trace smooth circles against me, and I felt fire wash through my veins and move through my bones, making me feel soft and languid.

We’d never touched like this before. I did not think he would like it, not from me. After all, I was not one of his nymphs.

I frowned, because the feelings inside me were changing again, turning sharp and bitter, causing me to tense up.

Immediately he sensed it and pulled back, his pretty eyes searching my face.

I had not much cared for Petra’s looks when I first met him. His ears were rather big and the nubby horns on the crown of his head had been distracting. But I saw none of that now.

I only saw his kind eyes and his nice smile. I saw him for who he really was.

A queer sensation rolled through me, and it was now imperative I release him, place some space between us, because all I could seem to think was that I wanted to kiss him again, and this time I wanted him to remember.

I’d had sex with males in the past, only three in my life, and more out of curiosity than anything else. But I could remember none of their names, and I’d never wanted to kiss any of them, nor had they tried to kiss me.

Sex had been clinical, a way to release our need, but also a task I undertook more as a learning experience than anything else. What I’d found was that I did not have the taste for it and could not understand those ruled by their baser needs. At first, I’d thought I’d done it wrong, or perhaps my partner had. So I’d tried twice more. All three times produced lackluster results, killing off any and all desire for me to try again, which was fine. Someday I’d breed, have my one foal so as to pass on my knowledge, and leave it at that.

And yet, my breasts felt suddenly heavy. The nipples were puckered into fine points, and my mouth tingled. I had to bite down on a lip and force my knees back until several yards separated us.

But I felt Petra’s gaze move over me like a heated brand. Lately, he’d been looking at me differently, not like he had in the games. Then, we’d been friends. Things had been light and easy.

Why did my skin feel as if it were on fire, especially at my back where his fingers had rubbed light circles on me?

Gods above, I hoped I survived this journey. A sick feeling of dread was twisting me all up, because I was pretty sure that whatever this was, I might never recover from it.

“Petra,” I said softly, though he’d still not looked away from me.

“Hm?”

“I will do whatever I can to help you find your sister. My bow, my arm, my vow to you.”

His lashes flickered like the black tips of a paintbrush along his sun-darkened skin. When he looked back at me, relief burned like a bolt straight through him.

“She is the only thing that had ever truly mattered to me.”

Past tense. Had. Meaning something else mattered now. But I would not ask. Because I knew it could not be me.

Right? Or wrong?

Why was this so difficult now? Why could I not read his motives as clearly as I once had? I could read anyone like a book, just as I had Wulfric. I knew what he was about. I knew he meant to take me down with him, thinking me weak and just a stupid, silly girl.

What I’d not expected was Petra rushing in to do the task for me. He was a satyr, not a warrior, not like my people. His kind lived to frolic, not fight, and certainly not kill. He would not even eat meat, for the gods’ sakes, but he’d not hesitated even a moment.

I’d been awed by him then. In a way I hadn’t been before.

I’d assumed Petra to be more of a beta male, and yet, he was not at all. He was placid and calm, but I was learning he was very potently male when he had a mind to be.

Petra was no weakling.

“But before we can see to Myra,” he said, “we must fix Kingdom, for the sake of us all. That magic hasn’t just twisted the lands, but some of the people too.” He pointed behind us, toward the snare bush still digesting Wulfric’s remains.

“I know. I do not like this new world. I am a creature of habit, taught that all knowledge can be found in books. But there are no books for this new Kingdom. I feel... lost.” I admitted weakness to him when I would to no other.

But I trusted the night and my companion to keep my secret.

He nodded. “Books cannot teach you everything, female. You must live life to learn it.”

“Says the satyr,” I teased, causing him to grin. “And how many nymphs did you roll around with before you became so wise, again?”

It was said as a joke, but that odd feeling of bitterness returned, punching me in the belly, making me feel grumpy and irritable.

“Far too many,” he admitted softly. “But then, I’m only a satyr, right? A cock with legs.”

His words came out as bitter as my thoughts, and I frowned. What was wrong with me that I continued to jab at him in this way? I did not do this to anyone else. I’d always prided myself on seeing others as they were and accepting them, flaws and all. And yet with Petra, it was bothering me for some reason.

But it shouldn’t. It wasn’t his fault he was who he was. I inhaled deeply, rolling my wrists.

“I did not mean to cause offense, gída. It was said as a joke, but obviously poorly done. I fear I have not the gift of gab like some.” I gave him a crooked smile.