Page 60 of Silver & Gold

Mine.

Yours.

CHAPTER 20

RAIDER PREFERRED WALKING. Actually, he preferred riding, but that wasn’t an option, at least not on horseback. He had no interest in riding in the palanquins, no matter how fabulous Seth seemed to think they were. In fact, he hadn’t set foot in one since he and Seth had fucked during the rainstorm two weeks ago. So today, like every day, Raider was walking at the back of the caravan.

When Seth had complained about barely seeing Raider, they had compromised by sleeping in Seth’s tent. But there were so many damn people around that they’d barely gotten to enjoy each other. With different people—literally any people other than Zarina’s Hammer and Hand—they would fuck anyway. But Seth was so damn tense, so tightly controlled that it had been more frustrating to fuck than not fuck. (There was a time when Raider would have accepted whatever kind of sex was available, but things were different now. If Seth wasn’t positively ruining him, it just didn’t cut it.)

So they were both a little frustrated and cranky, and since Raider felt that it was mostly Seth’s fault, he felt no guilt about teasing Seth constantly. At first, he’d been subtle about it, brushing Seth’s arm or thigh or hip at any opportunity during the daytime stops.

For a while, Raider had been content with the way Seth’s nostrils would flare and his eyes would spark like emerald fire. But that wasn’t enough anymore. So today, it was the skirt.

The gold-patterned green sarong hung to about mid-thigh. It was tied at Raider’s right hip, so it rose higher on that side and parted noticeably with every step. Raider had very much enjoyed watching Seth having to climb into the palanquin this morning with a distinct bulge pressing against the front of his pants. Once the fun was over, Raider had thrown on his kaftan and kaffiyeh to keep the blistering sun off his skin.

That’s how he was now, trudging along behind the last palanquin. The hard pack had softened to sand two days ago, which was harder going on foot, but at least it meant they were moving deeper into the al-Hatan. It wasn’t clear, however, how much farther they had to go. Seth had been pretty vague about the distance and direction to his “best guess” at the location of Ulam.

A few palanquins up the line, Nasrin hopped down. Waterskin in hand, she started walking back as though to talk to someone. Unfortunately, that someone turned out to be him.

Raider wished he could simply admire her. She was, quite simply, magnificent. Her powerful and unapologetically feminine physique. The confidence in her walk and her slightly upward tilting chin. Her incredible skill. He didn’t blame Zarina one bit for being in love with her.

But Raider would strongly prefer to avoid her. In fact, that was what he’d been doing even since that night Seth had gotten him out of the palace. She had witnessed a little too much, and he saw it in her eyes every time she looked at him.

Seth had been quick to dismiss what Raider had said about seeing his own past in other people’s eyes, but that was because he hadn’t experienced it. How the weight of it settled over you when you saw it. How it defined you. Trapped you.

Raider felt it now as Nasrin looked at him just a little too carefully. She held out the waterskin. Raider took it and popped the cork. After a long drink, he handed it back. She attached it to her belt beside the coiled length of her silvery whip. Her sword was angled across her back, like Seth wore his. She didn’t have as many gadgets as Seth did and looked more streamlined in her leather breastplate and skirt. She wasn’t wearing her golden armor right now.

“Why the skirt?” he asked teasingly, trying to set a lighter tone than Nasrin’s why-are-you-back-here-by-yourself expression was setting.

Taking the bait, she made a show of looking him over, eyeing the open front of his kaftan, where his bare torso, sash, scimitar, and mid-thigh sarong could all be seen quite clearly. “You’re one to talk.”

Raider chuckled. Damn it. Why did she always have to make him like her in spite of himself?

Then she explained, “It’s comfortable, practical, and very sexy.”

Raider grinned. “Agreed. I’m sure someone is able to picture it quite clearly, even in your absence.”

Her eyes, a little wary, slid sideways to him. “She said you noticed.”

“I’m happy for her. For both of you.” He added intently, “I wouldn’t hurt her.”

Damn it. Raider had meant to keep this light and easy, and here he was jumping into the deep end.

“Not by your own will, no. I know that. So does she.”

Raider didn’t want to talk about that. Ever since Zarina had told him that Kahzir was being apprehended and brought back to Kastari, there had been a worm of fear writhing in his gut.

“This thing she wants,” Raider said, refocusing. “It’s not good. The Alchemist’s Stone? You know the story, right?”

“It’s supposed to be the greatest alchemical work of all time,” Nasrin said defensively.

“Don’t fool yourself. It’s men like Kahzir who create such things.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That thing led to the destruction of an entire city—”

“No one knows the circumstances.”