“He’s fucking lucky the Prince stepped in,” Roke growled. “He doesn’t know how close he just came to having his head torn off!”
“Really, old boy, there’s no need for such aggression,” the Duke said, looking shocked. “After all, one spends one’s whole life with one’s Heart’s Companion. It’s nice to have a bit of variety now and then.”
“Yes indeed.” The Duchess nodded.
“Well that’s not the way we do it in our culture,” Elli told them. She looked over her shoulder at Roke. “Are you all right?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“All right? Of course I’m all right!” He took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders as though to get rid of tension. “Why wouldn’t I be all right?”
“Maybe because you were going into Rage for me just now?” Elli said, raising both eyebrows this time. “Don’t deny it—I saw your eyes go red and you were growling.”
“I’m sworn to protect you, that’s all,” Roke said stiffly. “It’s not like I want to call you as my Bride—you know Havocs don’t bond.”
“I didn’t think they went into Rage either,” Elli remarked.
“I wasn’t going into…all right, I was,” he admitted in a low growl. “It just made me so fucking angry that some bastard just thought he could come and take you away from me and—” He broke off, shaking his head. “I just feel protective of you—that’s all, little priestess. And I’m thinking of my own hide, too. The Goddess sent me to watch out for you—what do you think she’ll do to me if I fail and you get hurt or abused in some way?”
“Probably what you were about to do to Lord Villiaphone,” Elli murmured, a little smile playing around the corners of her mouth.
“Be quiet and come here—the servers are bringing the food,” he ordered, scowling at her.
Elli settled back against his broad chest but she couldn’t help smiling. Now that the fright she’d had was fading, she found she quite liked teasing the big warrior.
She had no idea how soon he would be in a position to tease her back…
Twenty
What in the Seven Hells is wrong with me, acting like that? Roke asked himself. Like some lovesick Kindred mooning over a female he wants to call as his bride!
But he hadn’t been able to help his reaction, no matter how irrational it was. The minute that Tenebrian asshole had demanded that Ellilah come with him, a red curtain had dropped over Roke’s eyes and a fury so great it was unlike anything else he had ever experienced, had filled him like molten metal pouring into a smelter’s cup.
There had been only one word in his head—Mine! And though the Rage had passed, it echoed there still, as part of him still insisted that the little priestess was his by right and he would kill or die to keep any other male from touching her.
You’re a damn fool! Roke told himself. But he couldn’t stop the possessive and protective emotions that still filled him. Carefully, he cradled Ellilah’s small form to his chest, determined to keep her safe no matter what else occurred.
After all, Supper wasn’t over yet—who knew what else might happen before they got to leave and go back to the safety of their own bedchamber?
Twenty-One
Elli settled back against the big warrior, grateful for his presence at her back. It had been scary, watching him go into Rage. But it was also nice to know how strongly he felt about protecting her. So far Supper had been a strange affair and they hadn’t even had any food yet—she wondered what could possibly be next.
As a matter of fact, the next thing that occurred was the soup course. Or what apparently passed for soup among the Tenebrians.
“What is this?” Roke asked, disgust clear in his voice, as he dipped a spoon into the slimy green liquid filling the bowl at his side. When he tipped his hand, the green stuff poured out of his spoon in a viscous drool that dripped back into the bowl like mucus.
Servants had come and put folding trays beside each lounge with utensils for two—though they had been given only one bowl of the “soup.” Clearly they were meant to share—though as far as Elli was concerned, Roke could have the dish they had been presented all to himself.
“Oh, this is ashta-kali slime,” the Duchess told Roke. “It’s a specialty of our home planet, Tenebria.”
“Slime?” Elli echoed, feeling ill. “Um…where does it come from?”
“It’s a very delicate algae which grows on the edges of our underground lakes,” the Duke said, answering this time. “We harvest it at its peak ripeness, season it with a bit of pika spice, and serve it fresh.”
“What—so it’s not even cooked?” Roke demanded, frowning.
“Of course not!” The Duchess looked shocked. “That would ruin the lovely, delicate flavor!”