Ryc stood in the shadows between dunes and watched Alexa swim closer to shore. He hadn’t been able to stay away once Cyrgyn had flown off. It had been weeks since he’d seen Alexa, weeks when he knew she’d been training and preparing for the battle sure to come. He’d forced himself not to go to her, not to make excuses like his ability to help her train. She’d be fine with Cyrgyn. She needed to be with Cyrgyn.
But eventually he’d weakened, and he couldn’t pass up this opportunity.
She stood and his mouth went dry. Completely naked, her body shone silver in the moonlight, her long hair unbound, flowing over one shoulder and covering one breast. It made the exposure of the other all the more erotic.
Pressure grew in his chest, his desire fighting his integrity. She was not his, could never be his, but he felt driven to brand her so.
She stopped halfway up the sand and stared into the darkness that surrounded him. Her stance was combative, ready, despite her lack of weapon—or clothing. She looked like a comic book heroine but so much more.
After a moment she relaxed, walked the few feet to her clothes, and picked up her tank top. “Come on out, Ryc,” she called after she’d yanked the shirt over her head. “I know it’s you.”