Simus resisted the urge to reach for her. He just held open the tent, and let her slide in first, handing her their sleeping pallets and climbing in behind. They worked together to pile up the gurtle pads, and spread out the bedding. It was a bit awkward physically, and they bumped elbows more than once moving around each other. But having her close, working together—that was comfortable, and easy, and arousing all at the same time.

And when her elbow ended up in his eye for the third time, Simus felt his heart ease, and even sing a bit at the look of amusement in her eyes. Such a small thing. Such a great comfort.

They left the tent flap open, for light and air. Simus might have preferred to sleep under the open skies, but the idea of a tent over his head this night was a good one.

He let Snowfall have the pick of which side, and once she had her weapons arranged to her satisfaction, he set out his armor, sword and dagger within easy reach. Snowfall gathered up the kavage and food bowls, and urged him to take a mug. All in a silence that he felt no need to fill.

She drank as well, studying him over the rim of her mug.

“Gurt?” she asked as they both finished the kavage.

“Later,” he said.

She set aside the bowls, and when she turned backed, he reached out and cradled her cheek in his hand, stroking it with his thumb. Her skin was warm and silky against his skin.

She closed her eyes, and tilted her head into his hand.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “For earlier. For yelling. You are a warrior, entitled to make your own decisions. I was angry because I was frightened for—”

She leaned forward and kissed him.

 

 

He tasted of kavage, sword oil, and strength.

Snowfall moved closer, pushing him down, demanding more. Simus obliged, opening his mouth, falling back to let her press him to the blankets and deepen the kiss. She took every advantage, straddling him so that her hips rode his, anticipating what was to come. But for now all that mattered was their lips locked together.

And when she finally needed to breathe, she pressed soft kisses to his face, his nose, his closed eyes as he panted beneath her.

Simus arched his neck as he ran his hands over her back, cradling her buttocks and then moving up again, long sweet strokes across her skin.

Snowfall nuzzled his neck, her teeth biting playfully before her lips sought the skin beneath his ears. She cradled his skull in both hands, using her short nails to scratch at his scalp. She shifted back as she did so, pressing down, feeling his hardness against her stomach.

Simus moaned and arched, then grasped her hips and lifted her up slightly before rolling her to the side. She chortled softly into his neck as he tried to calm his ragged breathing. She’d done this to him, had him quivering under her hands. She took a deep breath of the scent of their bodies together. There was so much more to come, and she ached in anticipation.

She let go, and allowed her tattoos to dance.

Simus caught his breath, watching as the vines swirled and moved, as the flowers bloomed along their lengths. They moved over her shoulders, and down her arms. Snowfall closed her eyes in the pure pleasure of it as Simus stroked her skin and pressed his mouth to the blooms.

“These,” he said. “They weren’t there before.”

“I flower for you,” she whispered, and kissed him again, hard and fierce, claiming his mouth.

Simus closed his eyes and kissed her back. “You taste of a sweetness all your own,” he murmured against her mouth. He didn’t deepen the kiss, letting her control their soft and slow touching of lips and sharing of breath at an awkward angle.

Snowfall stroked her hand down his side, over his hip, and then reached between his legs. Simus caught her hand. “Slow,” he whispered. “Slow is good.”

Snowfall leaned in, her forehead against his. “It’s been some time since I’ve shared,” she admitted to his ear.

“Why so, a warrior as lovely as you.” Simus rolled back, pulled her down to stretch out on top of him, skin on skin.

Snowfall shrugged, reaching to run her fingers over his chest. “So much to learn, I think. Then Wild Winds grew ill, and, to be honest, no warrior-priest held much appeal to me.”

“I trust I appeal?” Simus asked.

“I wouldn’t be here otherwise,” she said quietly. She lifted an arm and pulled him into another kiss.

Simus was more than willing, and now his hands were free to explore, stroking her soft skin; Snowfall returned the caress. It became a long, slow exploration that left them both breathing harder, and their bodies warm and filled with desire. Simus’s hands slipped lower, to her core, stroking her folds with the tips of his fingers but not going deeper. A simple, slow touch.

Snowfall shifted to her side, putting one leg over his hip, trying to thrust herself against his hand.

“Slow,” Simus reminded her, chuckling against her mouth.

“Simus,” she moaned, looking at his with dazed eyes. “Death comes in an instant,” she said him.

Simus drew a breath. “Truth,” he murmured in her ear, and for a moment they stilled, memory of the day hanging between them.

 

 

She’d almost died.

Simus looked at the lovely, strong warrior beside him and his heart almost thumped out of his chest. He could have lost her so easily...

Simus eased her onto her back, moved between her legs, and pierced her heat in one strong thrust.

Snowfall gasped, her hands clutching at his shoulders, her eyes wide.

Simus froze, keeping his weight off of her. “Snowfall?”

“Simus,” she said, arching her neck back. “Elements.” It was almost a prayer as she shuddered around him, adjusting her legs, spreading them wider. The movement made him gasp, and he sucked in a breath, trying to forestall his own release.

Simus watched as her eyes and face reflected all of her passion and pleasure, there for him to see. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered, shifting to cradle her head in his hands, kissing her face and neck.

Snowfall’s nails dug into his back. “Move, move,” she said, bucking under him. “I want—”

“Whatever you want,” Simus said. He moved his mouth along her skin, trailing kisses further down. He took one breast in his hand, pinching her nipple and then sucking it into his mouth.

“Ah, Simus.” She pulled his head up and kissed him again. “Please,” she mouthed against his lips. “Please.”

He moved then, watching her face, feathering kisses all over. Her face, so quiet, so calm and still, now showed every emotion, every feeling as he began his strokes, waiting and watching, wanting to wring out every bit of pleasure he could for her.

—Until the moment she cried out, arching her back, clutching at his shoulders. Then and only then did he allow himself to lose his focus. He followed her in a burst of pleasure, easing off to one side a moment later, limp and languid with delight.

Snowfall murmured something and reached out, flailing a hand about until it met his tunic. She used it to clean them of the worst of it, and then tossed it aside, her eyes only half-open. She cuddled back down against his chest, and Simus pulled her into his arms.

“Sleep,” she said and he nodded into her curls and allowed himself to drift off.

 

 

The cooler air from the open tent flap woke Simus, his skin prickling as a breeze swept in. He reached out for their bedding and pulled it up and over both of them. Starlight spilled through the opening, giving just enough light to see.

Snowfall had spooned up against him, cradled in his arms. The blankets warmed around them as he breathed in her scent. Unable to resist, he nuzzled the soft skin behind her ear, her curls tickling his nose.

Snowfall tilted her head to give him better access. Simus pressed kisses along the line of her neck and shoulders.

He held her breasts, tweaking her nipples, and felt her hum of appreciation. His hands drifted down, stroking her stomach. She shivered in his arms, and, with one hand, encouraged him to drift lower, seeking...

Her stomach let out a loud growl.

Simus couldn’t help but let out a belly laugh.

Snowfall twisted in his arms, and gave him a sparkling smile that took his breath away. She rose to sit cross-legged, facing him, letting the blanket fall away. The flowers in her tattoo had hidden themselves, but he could see traces of color under the green leaves.

“I love your smile,” Simus whispered. He watched in delight as a blush rose on her brown skin.

“Our training,” she explained. “A warrior-priest must be enigmatic and mysterious. Your eyes and face shouldn’t reflect your thoughts.” She reached for the dried meat and gurtle.

“Yet your stomach growls,” Simus said, poking at her belly.

Snowfall blocked his hand and looked offended, but he saw through that in a heartbeat.

“Best fill your stomach.” Simus danced his eyebrows. “Before I fill your—”

She popped a piece of gurt in his mouth to shut him up.

Simus grinned around the food, but the taste of the cheese reminded his own belly of its emptiness. He sat up and took a strip of the meat.

Snowfall reached for kavage.

“It will be cold,” Simus warned. “We could get fresh.”

“No,” Snowfall said, filling their mugs even as she shook her head. “Let us stay private. Morning, with its demands, will come soon enough.”

“Truth,” Simus said, taking his mug.

Both their moods changed. Simus contemplated his kavage as he tore into the meat.

“There are matters to consider,” Snowfall said. “I would not offend, but I would speak some truths.”

“There is no need for tokens between us,” Simus said. “I welcome your truths.”

“It’s still complicated, Simus. Not between us, but with—”

“Say my name again,” Simus demanded.

“Simus.” Snowfall gave him an exasperated look. “You should name Elois your Token-bearer.”

“Not you?” Simus considered her face, open and concerned.

Snowfall shook her head. “Not me. I have thought this through. Yes, I can keep your tent and be your voice, but it’s your warriors that concern me. Elois has their trust and respect.”

“I trust you,” Simus said.

Snowfall leaned forward and fed him another piece of gurt. “But they do not and that is the critical point.”

“What of you?” Simus asked.

“I am what I am,” Snowfall said. “An advisor, a warrior in your army.” She glanced out the tent flap at the night sky. “I will need to check with my superior for my duties in the morning.”

“You are wasted collecting dung,” Simus said.

“Perhaps.” Snowfall was serious. “But those are my duties.”

“I would make no secret of what lies between us,” Simus said, matching her tone.

“You must do what is best for our people. Give me no special treatment,” Snowfall insisted. “I will report back to Destal. I will earn my place.” She held out another piece of dried meat.

Simus took it with a reluctant nod. They ate in silence as he thought. “Elois has done well,” Simus said. “Both she and Tsor, in dealing with all of this.”

“From what I have seen, Tsor is also a solid choice.”

“He is,” Simus said, nodding. “But Yers would have been better.” He paused for a moment. “I wonder—”

“I saw him,” Snowfall said. “When I was aiding with Wind Winds. He was on a sleeping pallet. But I cannot say how well he is.” She played with a strip of meat between her fingers. “Would you take him back?”

“No,” Simus said, pressing his lips together, feeling again the betrayal. “He returns to Xy and to Keir.”

Snowfall nodded her understanding.

“Wild Winds?” Simus asked.

Snowfall shrugged. “Hanstau took him under his care. He was not conscious when I left to find you. Essa was there, as were other elders.” She frowned again. “Simus, Hanstau sees the power in the land.” Her worry was clear. “I do not know how or why a city-dweller can do so, but he sees it. If he can see it, he can use it.” She took a deep breath. “He is a danger, and needs training.”

“Something to talk to Wild Winds about,” Simus said.

Snowfall looked relieved, as if she didn’t expect Simus to believe her. “Sometime, I would have you tell me more of Xy. About their stone tents, and their ways. Even maybe teach me chess.” She looked pleased when Simus gave her a nod, then let her hand rest on the scar on his thigh. “Simus, how will Keir react to us? To this? His hatred of warrior-priests is known.”

Simus smiled at her. “I do not know. But I do know that Keir set out to use the city-dwellers to his benefit, and then lost his heart to one. I would hope he would listen to our truths, Snowfall.”

Snowfall nodded. “There are other worries. I do not see how Essa hopes to summon a Council to confirm you as Warlord. Of what strength their choices will have, given their numbers.” She offered him more food, but he shook his head. “There is sure to be opposition to your confirmation,” she continued, setting aside the bowls and mugs. “Even if it is clear you are the right choice. Even if you have made the right choices for our people. I fear that—”

She continued to talk, offering her insights into the candidates from the days she had spent watching. Simus listened, nodding, but...

This was what Keir had spoken of. What Isdra and Epor had found. What Othur had tried to explain. About the difference between sharing for pleasure and bonding for life.

Here was an equal partner in his life, a strength at his side. Agreeing, disagreeing, resolving those differences. The excitement of challenging one another even as they supported on another. Building a life together. A Bond of purpose, of commitment, to each other, to the Plains, to their world.

Exactly like Lara and Keir.

That was why he loved this woman.

Simus stretched out on the bedding, and put his hands behind his head, a sense of peace, of satisfaction, of fresh strength flooding through him. He let himself grin like a fool.

Snowfall stopped, and gave him a questioning look. “What?”

“You love me,” Simus said, smiling at her.

She lifted her chin, and his heart swelled. “I have not said,” she said.

“You don’t need to,” Simus chuckled. “I hear it in your words. In your fears. In your plans, in your thoughts. You love me.”

Snowfall snorted. “That would be the arrogance.”

Simus rolled to his side, and placed his hand on her knee. “It’s not arrogance,” he said slowly as he rubbed her warm skin, and then let his fingers trace closer to her depths. “It’s not arrogance, if it’s backed by performance...” His hand drifted even closer.

Snowfall moved then, pushing him onto his back and straddling his hips. She leaned down, letting her mouth brush his. “Less talk, my Warlord,” she whispered.

Simus couldn’t agree more.

 

 

They loved again, bringing each other pleasure in all ways before deciding to sleep.

Simus lay on his side, pulled her close, and held her with one arm as he drifted off, breathing softly in her ear.

Snowfall didn’t close her eyes. Not just yet.

How was it that Simus could see what she had been blind to? That what lay between them was more than just a sharing of bodies, minds, and goals.

Not that she was going to tell him that. At least, not just yet.

Wild Winds had said to look deeper, and she had. And found surprises, and contradictions, and fascinating possibilities.

When had their goals, their lives, intertwined? Snowfall wasn’t sure. It had all happened so fast, and yet it felt as if it had always been between them. In her heart, in the depths of her soul, she knew that between them, love could only continue to grow. Her heart tingled at the thought. Still...she feared his people’s response, or even Keir of the Cat’s reactions to their relationship. It hurt her that Simus might be hurt by this.

But not enough that she could let him go.

 

 

Blaring horns woke Simus in the morning.

There was a moment of confusion as they both reached for weapons at the same time. But the sleep cleared, and Simus waited, letting Snowfall gather her things first and plunge through the tent flap to dress outside.

“The wyverns hunt,” Elois’s voice came from outside. Snowfall’s response was muffled.

Simus buckled the last of his straps, reached for his weapons, and stopped. He had to bite his lip to stifle a shout of joy.

Snowfall had taken his dagger.