Текст книги "The sea ogres eager bride"

Автор книги: Ruby Dixon

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Chapter

Nine

RANAN

My ears are hot as I stalk to the edge of Akara’s shell. How is it that I mistook her words? She was teasing me, and I assumed she was thinking the worst. Now I’ve snarled at her and she’s gone quiet.

I wasn’t entirely truthful with her as to why I live alone with Akara. Yes, she’s territorial. But I am also not good with people. I find the less I say, the less my mouth gets me in trouble. It’s another reason why living a nomadic life with Akara suits me.

But now there is this woman.

And she has a great many questions. And she wants to talk constantly. Yet every time I say anything to her, I get it wrong. It makes me angry at myself, and at the same time, I feel foolish.

I dive into the sea, hands above my head, and let the cool waters soothe the heat from my face. I surface, tossing my head-sail to shake loose the droplets, just in time to see that the woman—Vali—has tried to copy my movements. Her arms are over her head and she bends over the waters to attempt a dive, but it is clear she has never done one before.

She flops into the water, belly-first, and the smack of her skin against the surface is deafening.

I cannot help it—I bark with laughter.

She surfaces a moment later, her face contorted. “Owwww.”

“Diving is a skill that takes time,” I say, moving to her side to support her before she starts her flailing paddle. “Get the basics first.”

“You made it look easy,” she complains, but a hint of a smile is on her face. Even in her humiliation, she is light and relaxed…unlike me. When I am humiliated, I snap at her as if it is her fault.

I am a cur.

Self-loathing makes me speak up. “I didn’t know you were teasing,” I blurt out. “Earlier. With your words.”

She curls her arms around my neck, pressing her breasts to my chest as I tread water. I tell myself it’s no big deal. That she’s simply holding onto me because she can’t swim. And yet she’s wet and warm and soft and I can feel everything, including the light scrape of her nipples. “Is that an apology?”

“Does it need to be?”

Vali brushes her wet hair back from her face. “Not if we both know the truth of it.”

I manage a sharp nod. Her face is very near mine, her arms tight around my neck, and yet I don’t hate how close she is. Her skin is damp and golden and lovely and I can’t stop staring at her.

“We’re going to be learning about each other for a while,” Vali continues. “I promise not to get upset at you if you do something that bothers me, and you can promise not to yell at me if I do the same.”

She makes it sound so easy. Yet I know myself, and I know my sour temper. It’s almost as bad as Akara’s. “I cannot promise that. I’m too used to living alone. I might yell at you without thinking. Habit.”

Vali tilts her head, considering. “Well, if you do yell, just know that I will probably resort to acting like a slave. That means I’ll cry at your feet and beg for mercy and all kinds of pitiful groveling like that. Habit.”

I scowl. “I don’t want that. It sounds awful.”

She laughs, the sound bright and lovely as it echoes on the waters around us. “Well then, don’t yell at me!”

Truly, she could not have said anything more effective to make me pause. I hate the thought of Vali cowering in front of me, whimpering like a slave and begging for mercy. It would make me feel like a monster, and yet I suspect she’s done such things in the past.

The thought makes me angry. Irrationally so. I give her a little push away from me, even though I want nothing more than to clutch her bare skin against mine. “Let’s just focus on teaching you to swim.”

She immediately starts to paddle with sharp, frantic motions.

I have to grab her arms, holding her in place. “Not like that. Large strokes. Confident, slow strokes. You are pushing against the water, not beating at it. Never thrash in the water or make quick, jerky motions.”

“Why not?”

“That’s how an injured animal moves in the water. It flails, and in doing so, calls every predator in the sea to come and feast upon it.”

Her eyes grow wide, the whites of them enormous. “There are things in the ocean that are going to try and eat me? Things like…Akara?” Her gaze goes to the bright blue, clear waters around us and she gazes at it suspiciously—as she should. Fear of the sea is a good thing, especially in a fragile human. Vor’s creatures would feast upon her flesh in a moment given the chance.

“Akara will not eat you. She eats the waters.”

“She what?”

I’ll have to show her some other time. For now, all that is important is that she learn to swim. “Just listen. You need not fear Akara, but there are things in the waters with sharp teeth that prey upon the wounded and the weak. If you are injured, stay atop Akara. Do not get in the water. And never thrash. If you do those two things, you will be fine. And if you keep to my side, you will always be safe. Understand?”

She gives me a wide-eyed nod. “I’m rather terrified right now.”

“Then stay close to me and listen well.” I can feel her trembling in my grasp, and that won’t do. I don’t want her to be afraid for her life every moment we are on the waters. She needs to respect the sea, but she need not live in constant fear. “Learn to swim, listen to my instructions, and stay close. I will keep you safe.”

Vali immediately puts her arms around my neck again, clinging to my chest in the water. Her breasts push up against me and she twines one leg around my hips. “This close enough?”

I cannot tell if she is flirting or if she is serious. “Swimming might be a challenge this way.”

“I’m less concerned with swimming and more concerned with being eaten.” Her breasts are practically in my face, and very distracting. In fact, all of her is distracting.

I need to teach her to swim before I lose my concentration. Gently, I pry her away from me. “I have an uncle with a human companion. We’ll ask what he uses.”

Vali nods. “Until then, can I just hold on to you?”

I should tell her no. I should tell her that her nudity won’t sway me. That I’m not interested in making her my wife in all ways. That she’s clinging to me like a barnacle and I don’t like it.

But all of that would be a lie.

Because I do like the feel of her against me. My cocks are waking up, stirring with interest, and every time she rubs against me, it takes everything I have to keep my face neutral. I know if I pushed my interest upon her, she’d happily mate with me, but not because she feels desire. She’d do it because she wants to ensure her safety. As a bargaining tool, a coin to barter with.

And I want no part in that. Yet I am still weak, because I don’t shove her away. I just hold her against me. “Let me show you how to float upon the water.”

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Chapter

Ten

VALI

Lord Gental, the god of families, has a twisted sense of humor…because I get my monthly menses the very next morning.

Right after Ranan gave me lessons in swimming and made it very clear that I’m not to go into the deep waters of the sea if I have a wound because I’ll be seen as prey? Blood trickles from deep within me. I lie on the floor of the tent, hating the cramps and feeling utterly panicked. I don’t have rags to stuff into my undergarments. Gods, I don’t even have undergarments. I have nothing to soak up the blood with and I’m surrounded by the sea—a sea I am very much not supposed to get into right now.

What do I do?

I roll carefully on my side, hoping that will somehow keep the blood inside me until I figure out a solution. Ranan isn’t in the tent, and I’m relieved. He was gone this morning when I awoke to belly cramps. I should have known I was about to get my moon time—night before last I had utterly filthy dreams about Ranan holding me in the water and shoving me up against the turtle’s shell so he could drive into me from behind. I always have naughty dreams right before my period.

So much for swimming lessons. I’m going to be a burden to Ranan for the next several days. A bloody, messy, crampy burden. He’s probably going to be furious at me. If I was back in Parness, the wise-woman would offer me a charmed plug made out of wool and wrapped with herbs, but I’m starting to think her solution to all ailments is to shove things into holes where they don’t belong. It would at least be a solution, though. Right now I don’t know what to do. The stink of my period feels as if it’s permeating the tent and I need to fix this somehow.

I grab my ragged dress and rip a thick strip off the hem, then shove that bit of material between my thighs. It’s not enough to soak up much if my flow is heavy, but perhaps I can rinse it in the sea without Ranan noticing. It feels like a terrible idea, though—he said sea creatures could smell blood for leagues, and I’d be washing blood right into the waters where we are. What choice do I have, though?

Worse yet—what if Ranan decides he wants his husbandly rights? I won’t get pregnant, but something tells me that he won’t like my bleeding, either. I’ll still happily have sex with him, but I never feel less unappealing than when I’m crampy and bleeding and bloated.

I want to cry. I’m not much of a weeper, but today, I feel like wailing in frustration. Why does my body have the worst timing ever? Why can’t I be like one of the other village girls who skip their monthly cycle when the slightest stressful things happen? No, I have to bleed like a stuck pig.

Clutching my gut, I try to come up with a story. Back in Parness, a woman with her menses was considered unclean, a curse by the god Gental every month as punishment that we did not bear children. I’d have to hide from all men until Gental’s curse was lifted. Some women look forward to their menses because they can hide out from their husbands and children, but for me, it just meant the usual work and cramps.

Ranan’s going to think I’m unclean and avoid me if I tell him the truth. I need a good lie as to why I can’t swim today. Why I need to just stay here in the tent, stinking of old blood. An old wound, perhaps? That seems the most likely answer. Yes. I’ve opened an old wound I need to nurse it. I can swim later. I adjust my torn dress around my waist, hiding my loins. The wound is on my inner thigh, I decide, prepping my story. Perhaps I was gored by a bull once and now the salt water has made it flare up again. Completely believable⁠—

The tent flap jerks back, and I yelp in surprise. I’ve been so tense that the sight of him sets my heart to pounding. “Oh, it’s you.”

Ranan scowls at my words.

“Not that I was expecting anyone else,” I blurt out, sitting up. My dress gets shorter by the day, and to make sure that I have everything covered that needs covering, I’m wearing it as a skirt and leaving my breasts bare. The women in Parness would do so when the weather got hot and no one looked twice, but it’s just me and Ranan here, and I haven’t gone bare-breasted save for our swimming lessons.

He stared at my breasts then, and he’s staring at them now, too. I mean, they are rather nice breasts, but now is not the time that I want my new husband aroused by the sight of me. “I can’t swim today,” I blurt out. “Apologies. I’m just going to lie here in the tent.”

Ranan narrows his eyes at me. “Why?”

He seems suspicious, as if I’m deliberately working against his wishes. Gods, I wish I could reassure him. What if his people toss unclean women overboard and make them swim until the monthly curse is lifted? What if he abandons me on shore again? “Nothing much,” I say in my brightest voice. “The salt water has just opened up an old wound of mine and I need to rest it until the bleeding stops.”

“You’re bleeding?”

“Not much,” I blurt out, wondering if I should have gone with a different tactic. “Just enough that I can’t swim today, as you said. I’m sure it’ll be gone by morning. It’s truly fine.”

He gives me such a look that I quail inside. “Where?”

I swallow hard. “Where what?”

“Where are you bleeding?”

Oh, by the gods. Surely he doesn’t want specifics. “Nowhere important. Like I said, it’s an old wound⁠—”

“Show me.” Ranan’s expression is unyielding.

“Truly, it’s nothing at all, I swear.” I adjust my skirt, hoping that no blood is coming through. “But if you have some rags I can use to clean up the blood, I’d be ever so grateful…”

My excuses die in my throat as he continues to glare at me.

“Show me,” he says again, not moving a muscle.

“I really don’t think that’s necessary.” I primly smooth a hand down the hem of my skirt, making sure it covers me to my knees and hides everything.

That small movement gets his attention, however. He points at my lower body. “Is it on your leg?”

“If you must know, it’s the inside of my thigh,” I lie. “An old goring from a bull. I—eep!” I yelp when he grabs my legs, sliding me onto my back, and spreads my thighs far apart. “Don’t! Please!”

He ignores my protests and gazes between my legs, and I want to die of shame. Just fall right off the turtle and drift down into the deep waters of the sea and forget all of this. I cover my hands with my face, embarrassed.

“You’re bleeding.”

“I know! I said that!”

He’s quiet, and I keep my hands over my face, trying to draw my legs together. His hands hold my knees apart, though, and then he strokes the outside of my thigh. “I see no old wounds. Is this your menses, then?”

I fight back the urge to cry. So much for hiding it. “Aye, it’s my menses. Please don’t toss me onto shore and leave me behind.”

He grabs my hands and pries them away from my hot face. “I am not a monster. I am not abandoning you. Understand?”

I bite my lip…and then whimper when a fierce round of cramps sets in. I manage a nod. “Th-thank you.”

Ranan leans back, two of his hands still on my knees, and gazes down at my body. “How long does this last?”

Is he asking because he doesn’t know about women, or is it because the women of his people don’t bleed like this? If so, that makes things worse. His human wife is a bleeder. “It should pass in about five days.”

Rubbing his mouth, he gently closes my legs again. I immediately snap my thighs together and turn on my side, curling into a ball.

“You are in pain,” he points out.

“Cramps. They’re worst the first two days.”

“What do you require from me? How can I help?”

Part of me wishes he would go away, because I just want to be left alone. I’m not used to someone paying attention to my cramps, much less offering to help out. I wrap an arm around my belly and shrug. “Willow bark tea? If you have that, it helps with the aching.”

“I have none.” He rubs his jaw. “Tell me what this tree looks like and I will try to find it.”

“I genuinely don’t know. I bought it from the apothecary. It’s fine. Thank you for offering.” I reach out and pat one of his hands. “If it’s all the same, I’m going to sleep through the worst of it if I can.”

He blinks at me, gaze somber, and nods. “Do you require food? Drink?”

I shake my head. “The thought of raw fish is nauseating right now. I’ll be fine. Truly. It’s like this every month.”

Ranan’s mouth flattens. He gets to his feet and abandons me without saying a word.

It’s not the worst round of cramps I’ve had, but it’s up there. I’m tired and thirsty and sore, but I don’t have the energy to get up from the bottom of the tent and find a waterskin. I doze instead, and when I wake up, my lips are dry and chapped and the cloth between my thighs is soaked. Ugh. I rub a hand over my face, wondering if I should go to the water’s edge and rinse it, or if that’s a bad idea.

As if my thoughts summon him, Ranan steps inside the tent. He’s got a wet trunk with him the size of a barrel and sets it down in front of me. “I brought you cloth.”

“You did?” I sit up, touched at his efforts. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“You are hurting and feel unwell,” he says simply. “If this will help, I will do it.”

It won’t fix my cramps, but I’ll definitely feel better cleaned up. I watch as he pulls out a knife and breaks the wax seal around the edges of the trunk, something I’ve never seen before. It’s to make it waterproof, I realize. A trunk full of sodden fabric would be twice as heavy and likely ruined, too. He opens the trunk and grabs the first bolt of fabric and offers it to me.

My jaw drops. I touch the delicately embroidered silk, a cloth that’s probably worth more than Lady Parness’s entire castle. “I can’t use this.”

“It is dry⁠—”

I shake my head before he can finish. “It’s too fine. Too beautiful. I’d ruin it.”

“It’s just fabric.” He glares at me.

“And you’re ‘just’ like a human man, right?”

Ranan huffs, amused by my comparison. “Very well, then.”

He digs deeper into the trunk and pulls out another fabric this time, this one a rich green brocade with gold thread shot through it. I decline again, and we go through the trunk of fabrics, all of them more beautiful than I ever imagined, and finally go with a dark, elegant, burgundy linen, as it seems the best choice. I hold the fabric and it’s the softest linen I’ve ever touched, with little white flowers sewn onto the edges. It feels wrong, yet I’ve no other choice. I worry that if I keep turning down Ranan’s thoughtful gifts, he’ll get annoyed and decide to get rid of me after all.

“Thank you,” I tell him, clutching the fabric to my chest and managing a smile. I decide I don’t care how stained the fabric gets. I’m keeping this and making a dress out of it and it’ll still be the finest thing I’ve ever owned. I pet the soft linen and ignore how my callused fingers catch against it.

He watches me for a moment and then turns, pulling a satchel off his shoulder. “I brought more.”

“More fabric?”

The sea-ogre shakes his head and opens the sack. Out spill something like…cattails. Cattails and a large berry that looks like a milky pink bubble. I’m perplexed at the sight of these things, but he picks one cattail up and breaks it open, and downy fluff pours out of it. “Absorbent,” he says. “It might help.”

“Gods, this is perfect,” I cry, so relieved I could weep fresh tears. “You’re wonderful.”

The sail atop his head flicks and he picks up one of the pink bubbles. “For you.”

“What is it?” I sniff it, but it doesn’t smell like anything. It looks waxy and strange, the size of a small plum. There’s dozens of them in the bag, too.

“After you said that you couldn’t eat fish today, I remembered that my mother likes a certain type of seagrass fruit once a month. I thought the reason might be similar. You eat them.” His eyes are dark, his expression cagey, as if he’s uncomfortable sitting here with me. “Try one.”

Oh. Food and fabric? I’m touched that he went to such effort, and a little worried, too. What if he decides I’m not worth all the trouble? Gingerly, I lift one of the bubbles to my lips and try to take a bite. The skin of it is hard, like an enormous grape, and I end up popping the entire thing in my mouth and chewing so it doesn’t splatter everywhere. A sweet, milky flavor floods my mouth when the bubble bursts, and it’s the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted. It’s like berries and sweetness and milk all combined into one syrupy bite. His mother must crave sweets during her menses, too. I snatch another up and eat it.

“Better?” he asks, rich voice oddly demanding.

I nod enthusiastically, raising a hand to my mouth to cover it as I chew the tougher skin. “You are too kind, truly, Ranan.”

He crouches in front of me on his haunches, silent but full of tension. “You lied to me again.”

A shiver runs down my spine. His voice is so low and deep that it makes everything sound ominous. I can’t tell if he’s pointing this out as a fact or if he’s upset with me. “Aye, I did. I thought an old wound might be better than my menses. Most men think a woman unclean while she bleeds. I’m making a mess, I can’t practice swimming, and I worried you’d be upset.”

“I am more upset at the lies. You said you would stop.”

“I know.” My voice is small and frightened. “It’s…habit. No one wants to hear the truth from a slave.”

“I do.” He puts his finger under my chin and forces me to look him in the eye. “You are my wife.”

But I’m not. He can say I’m his wife, but we haven’t had a ceremony. We haven’t shared a bed and we barely know each other. Nothing is permanent yet and it would be far too easy to walk it back. “I just didn’t want you to change your mind. I don’t want to be a bother to you.”

I’m still thinking about that day on the beach, and how he’d almost left me. In that moment, I realized that my future is more fragile than I’d realized, and it could end up being worse than the fate I’d had in Sunswallow.

Ranan’s eyes flash with irritation. “I told you that you were my wife. How do I prove this to you?”

“I don’t know.” All I know is that I’m going to do my best not to anger him. I’m going to be the sweetest, most eager bride ever. Perhaps I should try touching him to ease things along. My abdomen cramps with another painful squeeze and I shove another seagrass fruit into my mouth so I can avoid answering him.

With another frustrated growl, Ranan gets to his feet and stalks out of the tent.

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