Destined Path

Chapter Fourteen: Like Sigyn in Jotunheim; Part Two

Sarabii PoV

I tried my best to stay under the cover the Princess allowed me. Acting as one of her servants to travel with them on their journey. To be close to my son. To be close to his father.

Of course he knew I came along, I would never leave our son without me. No matter how kind-hearted the princess is, I'll never allow her to replace me as a mother. Rekker was, and will only be, my child. My son. But he loved her. He was beginning to love her more than me. As was his father.

Alex was at a drift in thought, I could tell easily. Yet he continued thrusting steadily within me, rigid, hard thrusts that jolted me. I gave a moan, running my hands down his smooth, muscular back. I had noticed, wearily, that to every sound I made Alex no longer reacted the same. He used to be triumphant at pleasuring me, knowing that everything he did pleasured me. Now, every moan seemed to hassle him. He would almost wince at the sound. I placed my hands on his buttocks, pushing him deeper into me, retracting his attention to our lovemaking.

Rekker began to cry in the corner, but before ether of us made effort to separate, Onyxia came silently into the room. Alex paused his thrusts and looked over his shoulder at his beautiful bride. She didn't even glance his way. She picked up our son, cradling gently in her arms. Bouncing him slightly up and down until his crying softened to a sulking whimper. She looked up at me, directly at me, "I'll keep him in my room so he's not to bother you anymore." She murmured. I nodded in allowed permission, and she walked off. My room. Not our room.

"She wants us to marry, has she told you that?" Alex asked, he sounded so unusual. Bland. I couldn't gauge how exactly he was feeling. He looked troubled.

I gave a gasp as he continued to push his long member into me, it felt so good. "I doubt we would be allowed to marry, Your Grace." I answered on a moan. I didn't want to marry Alex. Not truly. If I ever did it would be for our son, not for me. I was too old to have such a young, vigorous husband. And he wouldn't care for me as he used to. He didn't want anyone else, I could see that so plainly. "But, yes, she has mentioned that."

He said nothing furthermore. Just fucked me in silence. I wondered how he made love to her. From what I could pull out of her in our conversations, she found it agreeable. But was it slow? Was he ever so gentle? Did he take his time to worship her? Or was he harsh? Inconsiderate? I'll find a way to ask her. She was a good girl. A brave girl. No, not a girl. A woman. I highly doubt that she could be called anything else. No, she was a woman. One to be admired.

Alexan PoV

I entered the tent slowly, careful not to make any noise. The space was pitch black except the dull glow of bluish light the moon gave. I glanced over the sleeping bundle cradled warmly in the furs and covers. My saviour, I thought bitterly. My lapse was an embarrassing one; a wife shouldn't ever need to save her husband. In battle or otherwise. But she did. She did without any hesitation. She was bloodied and bandaged; I will never get that image from my mind.

My boots creaked softly on the soil floor as I walked over to the low bed, standing by her side. Her broken lips parted, and her closed eyes held bruising and small cuts. Yet, she looked so appealing. She was absolutely indescribable. But I couldn't take her; she didn't deserve that of me. I gently placed a hand on her face, my cold fingers causing her to stir as I smoothed away the hair from her face. As she woke I let her be, returning to the chair in the corner of the tent to undress. Catching sight of my sleeping son in her arms as I walked. I smiled as I unbuttoned my jerkin, shedding my clothes until I had nothing but my woollen trousers on. My child and my little cousin were in the tent also; best not to traumatize them with my bareness.