With the way her lips curved like a bow, Aelif thought that meant her kiss must be the arrow, piercing her, running her cold, like death. It did not feel like a cold death, though, as the softness touched the back of her neck. It felt hot, like fury, lightning making waves down her back.

She turned and pulled Featherless toward the bed of their tent, a mess of furs over a mound of soft straw. Her steel eyes were trained on her, hungrily, and it filled her with a strange desire, one she didn’t have the time to act on before Featherless brought her down, onto the bed, and climbed on top of her. Her lips collided with hers, tongues playing swords between them, hands grasping at each other.

Featherless was the first to be undressed, Aelif tugging her tunic above her head to reveal her round, soft breasts. She took one within her hand and kissed it, softly, her other hand grabbing at her lithe waist. Featherless moaned out, her body pushing into Aelif, yearning for a greater touch. She obliged, moving her hand from her waist downwards, running her fingers along the length of her thigh. The callouses tickled Featherless, making her nerves flutter. She ran her hand toward the crease of her hip, toward her depths, but just before her hand reached her depths, Aelif stopped, grabbed her thigh hard, brought her lips to her collarbone, and feathered her with soft kisses. Featherless groaned, pulling at Aelif’s braids to bring her gaze upwards.

“You’re such a tease.”

“You love it.”

Featherless rolled her eyes. “Keep going, before I do it for you.”

“Is that any way to talk to a queen?”

Featherless said nothing in reply, just gazed at her—eyes framed by thick lashes, cold steel peering down at her, and slowly, ever-so-slightly she ran her tongue across her bottom lip and exhaled—an eager invitation for her to continue. That look, that one look, was enough to make Aelif go crazy.

She took her time, running her fingers across the top of her waist band, until she reached the ties that held her trousers snug against her body. She undid the knots, slowly, their eyes never leaving each other. Once the ties were loose, Aelif wrapped her arms around Featherless’ thighs and brought her down to the bed with an all too swift movement, as if she’d done this a million times before. In truth, she’d wished she had, but it was just that she knew her strength and knew just how to control Featherless body, how to put her in all the right positions, and get her in all the right places.

With Aelif above her, she pulled at Featherless’ trousers and undressed her completely. She leaned down and kissed her neck as she ran her hand up her thigh, toward her depths, and massaged her, gently. Featherless moaned softly in her ear.

“You make me insane, wolf-girl.”

Aelif grinned, turned her head slightly to the right, and watched Featherless face as she inserted one finger, then two. Featherless yelped in pleasure.

“How about now?” she asked.

“Fuck. You.”

She laughed at that, leaned backwards, and wrapped her arm below Featherless, pulling her up to arch her back gently as she pleasured her. Featherless groaned, moving her hips into Aelif's hand as though Aelif were a bard and she, her little dancer. Just when she was about to come, she brought her fingers to her clit and rubbed, gently—Featherless moaned loudly, both with annoyance and exhilarating pleasure—until the sounds softened and Aelif pressed further, kissing her neck, and the moans erupted again.

“Oh, Gods.”

Yes, indeed, Featherless was a lyre, and Aelif knew exactly how to play her.

Once she finished, Featherless looked up at Aelif with a soft gaze, mixed with something more—like desire, or urgency.

Aelif smirked. “What?” she asked.

“Your turn.”