Vassal by Sterling D'Este (ebook reader computer TXT) 📕

hedonistic thrill of it all—the feeling of the earth and her body.

He had half a mind to just keep walking. Let the conceited bitch wear herself out. He wasn’t going to bother, but her wild, joyous cry awoke something in him that had been sleeping for far too long.

He could run like that. There was no way the boy or the halfbreed could. She was too fast.

Delyth was several lengths ahead of him and already falling behind Enyo. Figured. She wasn’t exactly built for speed. When Tristan passed her, it was with a malicious grin. He could keep up with Enyo. The priestess couldn’t.

It was only five or ten minutes later when her shadow passed over them. Tristan gritted his teeth and kept on down the hill, watching Enyo gaze at the stream that ran alongside them.

❂

Enyo galloped down the hill with no care and no fear of falling. Her feet could never fail her!

By the time she reached the bottom of the hill, it had been nearly forty minutes of running. She had outstripped her companions, though she had no idea by how much.

Given the priestess's annoying propensity to find Enyo, the Goddess assumed she didn’t have timeto spare, but Delyth had not yet turned in her lazy circles above them. She wouldn’t see Enyo disappear into the undergrowth.

Breaking away from the beaten road and trotting through the tall grasses at the bank of the stream, she knelt to scoop up handfuls of crisp water into her mouth.

The stream was bubbling and singing gleefully up at her, and Enyo smiled down at it. She could feel deep,deep within the earth, the source of the water. It traveled through rock and gravel, pushing up, up, up until it broke the ground and spilled out, creating this waterway.

How industrious. How clever it was, cutting a swath through the harsh mountains, defying those behemoths that stood the test of time and time again.

Instantly she loved this stream. Knew it’s very core.

Enyo trailed her fingers through its glittering waters, inviting that coolness into her sweat beaded body.

Swim with me! Swim with me! Play with me!

How could she say no?

She was unlacing the front of the plain pale blue dress and kicking off the boots on her feet immediately.

“Fancy a swim?”

She turned halfway to spy, not the meddling priestess, but Tristan instead. Would he run away, whimpering in fear as he had in the fire? Or chide her for the swim and nudity? Try to convince her not?

Enyo bared her teeth at him like a smile.

“Are you going to try and stop me?” Her tone made it clear that she thought the idea was laughable. Him. Stopping her!

Tristan put a hand on his chest in mock astonishment. “Me? Keep a Goddess from her bath? I wouldn’t dare.”

He continued his lazy stroll forward, hands in his pockets and his crooked grin somewhere between genuine and derisive. He flicked his hair out of his face with a casual motion and eyed Enyo with obvious pleasure.

It was evident in the catlike slant of her smile that Enyo’s pride had been stroked. He wouldn’t dare. Very good.

Resuming her undressing, she angled herself so that when the top of the dress fell away from her hips, he was afforded a very titillating view. Alphonse hid a rather admirable body beneath layers of unflattering, loose clothing, and demure postures.

A waste!

Enyo would never do such a thing, and as she stepped out of the skirts as well, she turned to peer over her shoulder at Tristan with an arched brow.

Tristan raked Alphonse’s body with his eyes, his crooked grin growing wider. “Now that,” he said, his words slow and admiring, “is not something a man sees every day.”

Would he just watch, or join? With something like a purr slinking from her throat, adoring those idolizing eyes on her flesh, she sprang from the bank, and with a splash, disappeared into the waters of the stream. It ran deep and true.

Her head popped out of the water, flinging Alphonse’s tawny locks back with a gasp,dropplets fanning out at the movement. Ember eyes glimmered over the little waves rippling from her plunge and turned to find Tristan standing bare at the stream’s edge. She admired him openly, taking in a muscled chest and scarred arms, his left shoulder tattooed with deep strokes of red and black ink in beguiling patterns.

He was a good looking male.

For a human.

Enyo’s gaze traveled over his tattooed arm and shoulder, greedily taking in the details. Tattoos in the old world had significant meaning. Esha had her signs of fertility, Maoz, the creatures he so adored. Even Alphonse had the faint pearl-white marks on her brow that showed all that she was a healer…

What did his markings mean?

Her expression was rapacious, something close to pure hunger as her hand lifted from the water, summoning him.

⥣          ⥣           ⥣

Delyth regretted her choice to agree to the run almost immediately. She had never been very fast, and Enyo’s sudden speed was… inhuman. Behind her, Etienne was quickly left gasping while Tristan tore off with the ease of a sprinter.

Unwilling to leave Enyo unguarded, the priestess dropped back, told Etienne that she would find him later, and took off, black wings snapping open like sails. In the air, she was no longer a cumbersome thing held back by the tug of gravity, but something graceful and quick. She ceased to have trouble keeping up with the two runners, instead struggling not to outstrip them. Hovering was impossible, so she turned long circles around them, her eyes glued downward.

Delyth was just starting to really enjoy herself, reveling in the sun on her wings and the wind in her hair when she looked down to find the road empty. Her heart plummeted. Why must she always be chasing after someone?

Blood thundering with apprehension, Delyth dove from the sky and headed back down the road, flying just low enough to see beneath the branches. She went