Chapter 47 Reassurance
Chapter 47 Reassurance
Her tangled hair whipped around in the wind as she made her way, ever so slowly, back to their tent. Aizurah loved Zeidan for how protective he was of her, but he needed to fulfill his responsibilities as a leader in their army. It helped no one, him sitting at her bedside.
Her exertion was quickly catching up with her, and her belly was beginning to ache from moving around. Perhaps it would have been wise to remain in bed. The pain made her think of her previous conversation with Zeidan, and his words came back to hit her like a ton of bricks…
She had lost their first babe, their little princess, and now she might not be able to have more children… Aizurah swallowed the lump in her throat until she made it to their tent, her eyes burning all the while.
Once the flap closed behind her, she broke down. Her knees gave out, and she crumpled to the ground with a sob, her abdomen throbbing.
I am so stupid… It was her fault. She had allowed herself to be separated from Sir Arden during the battle in the caves, and she would have to pay for her mistake for the rest of her life. Her face, her womb… How much had she lost trying to prove her worth to the realm—to herself?
With her arms wrapped around her chest, Aizurah rocked herself back and forth on the ground, trying to choke down her tears. What would Zeidan do if she could not bear his children? Would he leave her and find another? Would he resign himself to never having heirs of his own?
As if her thoughts had summoned him, her husband stepped into the tent, nearly tripping over her as he entered.
“Aizurah, what in the—” He caught sight of her tear-streaked face, and his expression softened. The tension in his shoulders faded, and he sighed. “Come on, love.” He carefully plucked her up off the ground, cradling her as if she weighed nothing, and carried her back to bed. “You need rest, princess,” he said, setting her down gently.
“Zeidan, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed through her tears, clinging to him. What good was she to him, to the kingdom, if she could never bear children? Zeidan didn’t reply; he simply held her until her tears subsided, morphing into soft sniffles.
“It’s not your fault, my love,” he assured her gently. “None of what happened is your fault. You were a victim of a horrible attack. But I will find out whose fault it is, and I’m going to kill them.”
Aizurah reached for him, desperately tugging his mouth to hers, pushing her tongue inside before he could react. Caught off guard, Zeidan tried to pull away. “Aizurah, no—”
“Please…” she begged in a whimper, “Please just touch me, Zeidan. I need to know you’ll still want me after—”
“Are you mad?” he laughed in disbelief, holding her at arm’s length. “Of course, I still want you. You’re my wife; I love you.”
“Then show me…” she insisted, eyes pleading.
She was hurt, and he knew it was dangerous, but Zeidan could deny her nothing. Not when she was begging him for reassurance. He reclined back on the cot, pulling her carefully down with him.
He kissed her softly, tenderly, pouring his emotion into it and hoping she understood the depth of his love for her. Wandering beneath her shirt, his hand trailed delicately along her skin, carefully avoiding her stitches as it slipped down into her trousers. His fingers trailed along her slit, a ghost of a caress, and her head fell back, heat flourishing beneath her skin as her heartbeat quickened. He stroked languid circles around her clit, his movements timed with his tongue dancing against hers as she grew slick with arousal.
When he finally slipped two fingers inside her, she was soaking wet, and tiny gasps had begun falling from her lips. Her head rolled back against the pillows while Zeidan’s mouth trailed down her neck and across her collarbone, leaving a tiny trail of glistening marks on her skin.
Aizurah began to writhe her hips in time with his thrusts; the pleasure welling inside her overpowering the pain in her abdomen. She didn’t care if it hurt; all she cared about was his love, the way his touch lit her up inside.
“Zeidan…” It came out as a needy whine. Aizurah was begging him for release.
“I know, my love. Relax, let it happen,” Zeidan crooned against her lips. His thumb had resumed caressing above her slit, and his fingers were doing lovely things to make the pressure build inside her. Aizurah’s fists were clenching the furs beneath her as she struggled to reach her breaking point.
“Oh, gods, please…” she breathed, desperately aching for her completion.
“Come for me, baby,” he whispered against her mouth, curling his fingers upward inside her. The princess shuddered in his arms, lightning as powerful as Starlyght's dancing behind her eyelids as her head rolled back and his name fell like a prayer from her lips.
As she came down from her high, she sagged against the cot, completely exhausted. Her mind was eased, but the pain in her abdomen soon returned. Zeidan continued to hold her, caressing her hair long after she fell into a weary slumber.