Mated to the Warg, (Wargs of the Outland, #1)

The Night Stop

Rowan slid off Thrax's back the moment she felt him sag to the ground. She was desperate to be alone, but the moment her feet touched the ground she was lost. "I need a light," she muttered.

Beside her, Thrax rumbled irritably.

She folded her arms. "I'm not squatting down right here with all eyes watching." It was hard to be dignified when her bladder was so close to bursting. Not to mention she couldn't see past the end of her nose.

"All eyes watching?" The sound of Thrax's voice in the dark nearly startled her bladder loose. Evidently, he'd shifted out of his wolf skin. Still, he didn't sound all that...human. "Do you think it our life's privilege to watch you take a piss?" he drawled.

His tone rankled, but she was too embarrassed to speak.

He blew out a hefty sigh. "Hurry up and make water, we have to keep moving."

"Then give me a light and I'll find a bush."

He muttered something in wargish, twigs snapping beneath his angry strides.

She gritted her teeth. "What was that? I don't speak oafish!"

"I said your precious bush-hugging is like to fetch you nettles up the growler."

"Growler?!" Her throat tightened with outrage. "You're disgusting!"

"Your lady garden, then," he drawled, his tone implying she was an imbecile. 

Worse and worse. She could feel flames licking her cheeks bright red. "How dare you!"

"How dare I what? Mention your unmentionables?" His shrug was palpable, his shadowy outline moving off.

"Gah!" What a brute he was. Teeth clenched, she turned away from his voice. "Don't worry, Meera," she said, "I'll find us some privacy in just a moment."

"I...I already went, milady," came Meera's hushed reply. "As soon as we stopped."

"Oh." Rowan's cheeks burned. She shifted uncomfortably, listening to the sound of twigs rubbing together. Then sparks and sharp huffs. Soon enough, light burst over the twigs and chased some of the darkness away. "Oh, blessed Maeda!" she sighed in relief. But as Thrax brought the makeshift torch over to her, her gaze skidded away. She'd forgotten he was naked.

"Blessed Maeda?" Thrax huffed loudly. "Ask her for the light next time."

She pursed her lips and, without looking at him, held out her hand to take the torch. A gasp fluttered through her parted lips as his fingers brushed hers. She would never get used to that feeling, whatever it was that stirred in her blood when he touched her. She gripped the brand and stepped away from him. "Thank you."

He only grunted.

She held the light high and searched the clearing. They were on a bald patch of land, and there wasn't much long grass to hide behind. With a sigh of gratitude, her eyes landed on a rocky declivity that promised some privacy. Somewhere further down, in the swampy darkness, she could hear water flowing. The rushing waters of the Jorg, named for Hekki's pet snake—a giant, black serpent. It'd grown steadily stronger and louder since they'd left West Gate. Which meant they were somewhere to the north. She knew very little about the outland, but she knew that much.

"Get going," Thrax muttered, "we don't have all night." The eyeshine of the other wargs flashed behind him in the dark, all keen and alert. "Don't go far," he said as she moved off towards the rocky slope. "Stay where I can hear you. This place reeks..."

"Of what?" She swallowed, feet faltering.

"You don't want to know, min skani."

"Wonderful," she grumbled. Now she was too frightened to make water. And what was it he'd called her? Meen skaahni? Doubtless nothing good.