Elven Legacy

Chapter 30

Dharkan

"Alone at last. What did I miss?"

"Nothing," Kitera said.

Kohl-lined brown eyes roved upward to the stage as if she was suddenly interested in Jaden's lute melody and Moira's singing. Which they couldn't really hear from where they sat because of all the chipper singing-along in between.

Dharkan smiled, glancing down at his glass and grasping it between calloused thumb and index to slosh the pale liquid inside.

"Saw you giving her that scroll you were so fussy about the other night," he said after a calculated pause.

Kitera made a pause of her own before she looked at him. Beside her, through the parted curtains, moonlight spilled in and gave a silvery glow to the graceful, curving lines of her dark-skinned breasts, shoulder, neck and well-drawn profile. The little stud in her nose, and the ones that ran up her ear shone silver with it too, before clouds cloaked the moon again.

Dharkan had always thought he liked her best with her hair down, but pinned up like tonight certainly had its merits.

"That's my business," she said finally, angling her head and staring at him. As if daring him to say anything back. Her eyes smoldering in the dim light. Shining with possibilities.

That's just your imagination, mate. A reasonable voice inside his thoughts. One he probably should listen to.

Still, the music, the cheers and thumps of dancing at his back seemed to dim, same as the light. There was just Kitera, and flash-memories of being with her the way they used to, and . . .

Who cares about some stupid scroll?

Rising inside him was a hot, yearning want for her. To rid her of that violet dress, upstairs in their room, and have her skin pressed to his. To hold the smaller part of her back as she arched it, pin her to the bed and kiss her full lips, his hand cupping a breast – all things he hadn't done in months, and traveling with Kitera made the urges excruciating.

Pack it in, D.

Should've slept with one of Alexa's girls after all. Would've taken the edge off.

Wind slivered inside through a crack in the window pane, and he momentarily could smell her perfume. She always wore the same one – a balanced mix of jasmine, vanilla and orchids. An Azurian perfume; a gift from her mother Cassi when Kitera was younger. By far Dharkan's favorite fragrance, mainly because it was strongly associated to Kitera in his mind. So much so that it always troubled him when he crossed a different woman in the street who smelled the same.

"I'm tired," Kitera announced, breaking eye contact. Dharkan wasn't really sure how many seconds, or minutes, had passed. Clutching up her bag, she said, "I think I'll go to the room now."

He gave a slight nod, and she got up with a scrape of chair legs, barely heard over the din of music and conversations around them.

Dharkan raised his glass, with a smile he hoped looked . . . normal.

"Be right behind you," he said quietly, not certain she heard him.

For a moment, he watched her as she moved toward the stairs, elbowing her way through the jammed room.

Then, without really acknowledging what he was doing, he lifted his glass the rest of the way to his lips and downed the whole thing. Dharkan grimaced as he set down the now empty glass. He'd forgotten there was this much liquor still. The burning sensation licked down his throat before slowly dissipating. Cozy warmth settled in his belly. He hoped it would calm a certain . . . part of himself.