Warrior, Opposed: Book One Of The Comhairle Chronicles

Chapter Nine - Potential and Problems

The punishing physical assessment came as something of a relief to Tor. Sure, the hours of exertion were almost as bad as the trials, albeit without the threat of death, but at least he had to focus on something other than Deòthas.

Gods, he couldn’t believe he’d already put his foot in it. Ràsbàrd knew what she had made of that damned drawing. Certainly her suspicion of him had been piqued, and of the captains. The baobhan sith wasn’t stupid, after all, and the collective behaviour of everyone in that meeting had certainly been suspicion worthy.

Fuck, what was he going to do?

It had seemed so simple when he demanded no one tell Deòthas about their connection, and that just showed how naïve he’d been about the whole sacred-mate bond thing. He’d nearly gone mad while the physicians stitched her up, wanting to know if she was ok, and wanting to be at her side. The intensity of his need to be with her, to protect her, remained completely irrational, and yet he hadn't managed to push down the swell of emotion which threatened to send him sprinting his way back down to the medical lab, to pound on the door and demand to be let in. If it hadn’t been for Tancred, he might’ve done just that.

 “Shit,” he mumbled as he considered his lack of options for the hundredth time.

Secrecy seemed like the only way to keep Deòthas near. The problem? At his primitive core, he wanted to claim her. His fangs descended just thinking about her. He wanted to taste her so badly, but taking her blood would be the next step towards being fully mated. It would turn the shimmering temporary markings on her face into a solid red. After that there’d only be the last stage to go, the act which would make the mate tattoos black and permanent. Consummation.

By the gods, his body craved Deòthas. It burned for her in a way he’d never experienced before. He had a ball of flame trapped in his core, a fire which pulsed against his skin as if it attempted to force him in her direction. He wanted to comply with the blazing need, but he couldn’t. Not then. Not the next day. Not for months, if ever at all.

Damn everything.

Thud. The impact of Tancred’s fist meeting Tor’s jaw dragged him from his deliberations and sent him careering backward to land on his ass. Not for the first time, either. When Tor looked up, the chief simply arched a brow as he stood in guard position, waiting for him to pick himself up again.

“You have to focus,” Tancred reprimanded as his muscled body remained poised in readiness for combat. “You’re dealing with something phenomenal, I know, but you are now a ghaisgeach of the Comhairle. If you don’t concentrate during combat you’re going to get yourself killed. Then how will you resolve your predicament?”

Tor sighed as he leapt back onto his feet. He swung out with all his strength, aiming to clock the chief in revenge. For a while they’d almost gone blow for blow, but when Tor’s fist met resistance, it came in the form of Tancred’s hand as he easily diverted the strike. Tor would have preferred the impact of his knuckles meeting the chief’s cheek.

Tancred made a grab for his arm, trying to manoeuvre him into a pin, where he’d be forced to yield. He would seriously resent landing on his face so soon after being sent onto his ass. He so wasn’t prepared to let that happen. Twisting his body around the chief, he tugged his right arm from the ancient warrior’s grasp and punched out with his left. The blow missed as Tacred dodged, but at least Tor hadn’t been floored again.

Unfortunately, in the very next moment, his body decided it wanted to do its own damn thing, turning towards the opening door and very nearly dropping him onto his knees. Thank god Tancred lashed out, his fists catching Tor’s temple hard enough to send him toppling sideways with stars bursting before his eyes. If his body had been allowed to act of its own volition, he would’ve knelt before Deòthas as she stepped into the room. Not a good look, really, if he wanted to alleviate some of her suspicion.