Namoriee hurried away from her lady chief’s hut. She kept her eyes on her feet as she passed the people in her village, dodging bodies as she went. Namoriee felt a slight moment of guilt for leaving Leawyn when she was still recovering, but she couldn’t stay in that room.
Not with him in it.
Only when the sound of her village dimmed as she made her way into the clutter of trees did she let out a sigh of relief.
She turned her gaze up to the sky and closed her eyes in contentment as the sun’s rays bathed her face, causing her body to relax completely.
“You shouldn’t be out here alone.”
Namoriee jumped, whipping around to stare at the blond-haired man who was frowning down at her disapprovingly.
“The woods aren’t safe these days,” Tyronian told her. As if to prove his point, his blue eyes scanned the trees suspiciously before they came back to rest on hers.
She stared up at him silently, not knowing how to respond. When he moved forward a step, she moved one back.
Noticing this, he took another step towards her. When she once again stepped back, he stopped, grinning.
“You’re not afraid of me, are you, Namoriee?” he asked, voice light with amusement.
She stiffened. “No, I am n-not afraid of you,” she lied, her eyes taking turns between flashing up to his face and down to the ground.
“Really?” he drawled, arching a brow.
She felt her eyes burn with emotion she rarely demonstrated. She lifted her chin insolently, unappreciative of his tone. “Yes, really!”
He grinned, seeming amused at her show of defiance and false bravado.
“If that is true,” he drawled, casually taking another step closer to her. She tensed.
An indulgent grin quirked his lips. “Prove it,” he purred. He stopped so that their bodies were just a breath away from each other.
He must have felt her chest rising and falling quickly against him with her rapidly beating heart, how her lips parted the slightest bit at their closeness.
Could he smell the scent of her sweat from her hard work around the village?
They were so close that she could feel his warm breath against her cheek and the edges of his blond beard scratching against her forehead. His heavily muscled frame encompassed her frail one, shadowing her like a waterfall would a rock. His presence was nerve-racking, and it was all she could do not to let him see how much he affected her.
Her limbs trembled, caused by an emotion she didn’t quite understand. Whatever it was, she didn’t like it. She needed to get rid of him.
Now.
Namoriee squared her shoulders and tilted her head so that she could better look him in the eye.
“I believe I have already,” she replied boldly, proud of herself that she didn’t stutter that time.
He chuckled and leaned his elbow against the tree he’d managed to back her up against, trapping her.
“Yes, you didn’t retreat. Good job, Namoriee.”
She took a sharp intake of breath as he dipped his head, pinning her with his gaze.
“How long will that last?” he challenged in a whisper. Her eyes widened.
“I-I don’t know,” Namoriee said, stumbling over her words again, his proximity making her nervous and causing the hairs on the back of her neck to rise with awareness.
His lips were so close to hers—another centimeter and they would be touching.
He studied her quietly, and her eyes fought a war with her brain over where to look: his eyes, or his lips. He stared at her, not as a man measuring the prospect of a horse, but as a man studying a sword being made. He looked at every detail, taking in every flaw and perfection.
She felt exposed and self-conscious. Her hair was lighter than the other women in the tribe, more of a chocolate color than coal. Her skin was tanned from all the days she worked outside in the sun. And she felt small as he towered over her, her forehead level with his chin.
Finally, he met her eyes, taking in her expression.
“Do I make you nervous, Namoriee?” he asked quietly.
“Y-yes,” Namoriee replied just as softly. She closed her eyes when he leaned closer, trailing a finger lightly down her cheek.
His lips brushed against hers when he asked his next question.
“Are you afraid of me, Namoriee?”
She inhaled deeply through her nose, opening her eyes that clashed with his vivid blue ones. Her lips trembled when she whispered her answer.
“Yes.”
Tyronian said nothing in response, and both continued to stare at each other in tense silence. It was as if the air sparkled with electricity, so potent you could feel it.
He straightened and deliberately dropped his arm from the tree. His body turned sideways, giving her the space she needed to slip by and escape him.
Tyronian stared after Namoriee, her long brown hair flying out behind her like a whirlwind as she ran.
Away from him.
She was young, too young even. The fact that he was eleven years her senior should have been enough to keep him away, but it wasn’t.
He couldn’t.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered to the empty space she’d occupied a moment before.
Because he knew . . . he wasn’t going to let her run away from him for long.
She was doomed long before this encounter because he had already made up his mind.
She was going to be his. Forever.
Whether she liked it or not.