A Storm of Flames and Deceit

18. From the Commotion

Eris

I'm not one to get distracted, prone to multitasking, plowing through work quicker than a fire through dry grass. But I cannot seem to draw my focus on even a single word in front of me. Not while she sits only a few feet across the study, smelling sweet like lavender, chewing on her lip as she reads military reports, her dark lashes fanned across her roses cheeks.

Even when I force myself to look away, all I can see is her body writhing beneath mine with pleasure. Don't get me wrong, I could listen to Nephele talk for hours, but there's something so satisfying about rendering her silent with pleasure, her voice too broken with release to even put volume to a scream.

"Are you okay?" She cuts through the silence, drawing me from my thoughts. "You keep squirming in your seat."

I suck in a breath, feeling caught as I look back over at her, her brows drawn together. Her face softens then. "You needn't worry about transporting the troops," she says quietly. "My father wouldn't dare provoke us without my power."

I breathe out, relieved she misplaced my restlessness. "And if we march with them," I remind her, finally drawn back to what I should've been focusing on this whole time. "What if he comes after you?"

She tucks the report she's reading back on her desk, coming to sit gently in my lap. Mercifully, she avoids my erection somehow. "He shouldn't be able to get through all of our men and the Illyrians and the summer court company," she reminds me, brushing her knuckles across my face. "It wouldn't be a smart move for him. He is way more likely to go after me when I'm alone. He's got numbers, but he'd never make it through three armies."

"I'm not worried about him getting through our men," I tell her, wrapping my arms around her waist. "I just don't want you to have to see that sort of bloodshed, even if I know we outmatch him. I don't want you to have to see him again unless it's to strike lightning through his heart."

She smiles bitterly, tipping her head against mine. "It's nothing I can't handle," she tells me, wrapping her arms around my neck. "The soldiers love you. Why else would they defect from your father? I think it's time they met their High Lady, don't you?"

I smile, kissing beneath her ear. "They're going to worship the very ground you walk on by the time you're done with them," I vow.

...

The morning of the transport, Neph and I are up bright and early, dressing for the three day long trek. Her gown is a soft, dusty blue color, fading into a stormy navy in the skirts, a silver corset laced over the gauzy fabric, her hair tied up neatly with a silver ribbon. My pants are made of a stern, brown leather, the matching blazer falling to my knees, unbutton to show the ivory shirt beneath, the both of us embellished in swords and daggers for the affair.

This will be the only part of the journey where we part ways. I would be more worried if I didn't know that she was winnowing to meet Cassian and Nesta in Windhaven. If I didn't know she was fully capable of taking care of herself if necessary .

She was to go to Windhaven this morning, a flex of strength as she is to winnow a thousand Illyrians to our rendezvous point in Autumn. I will met her there as I winnow Tarquin's company in this morning. It was to be a show of power to Night. Winnowing a thousand soldiers in one trip was no easy feat, but I knew Nephele could do it. Let Rhysand and Feyre hear how she didn't even break a sweat to do it.

She winnows in shortly after I've arrived, immediately searching for me, a smile growing across her face as she meets my gaze. I fight to keep my smile at bay, Nesta and Cassian still watching me like a hawk as she skips over, planting a kiss on my cheek.