Zyryxa paced around the fire, Lexyn’s cloak barely covering her back. Her sculpted body was closer to perfection than Pelzyq thought possible. Bless Qoryxa she hadn’t discovered the hides Lexyn made for her. Pelzyq hid them well.
“Get up! That homestead is burning!” Zyryxa snapped, indignant as always.
Pelzyq sipped his flask, savoring the burn. The dragon spit dulled his senses just as he wanted. What was the point of awareness in this eternal shithole? He often wondered why he even bothered to exist.
He glanced at the distant smoke, wishing he was too drunk to care. Fuck those homesteaders, he forced himself to think. What had homesteads ever given him but misery? Pelzyq shuddered, trying not to think about the man who birthed him or any of the others that threw him out of their precious white fences.
“Lexyn could be there right now, you ingrate!” Zyryxa shouted.
Pelzyq took another swig. Fuck Little Mouse, he tried to believe, unable to shake the warmth he felt for the only person who had shown him kindness in years. Fire Tribe raiders would chase, then murder … no, this was Volqor. Men who razed homesteads didn’t grant beautiful women like Lexyn the swift mercy of death. She didn’t deserve what was coming for her, but since when did anyone in this shithole get what they deserved?
“Little Mouse better be scurrying away,” he said.
Zyryxa stomped toward him, her chest heaving, muscles tense and magnificent in the moonlight. Pelzyq swallowed his fear. This woman was a force of nature, a beautiful blizzard with a voice like howling wind. “She saved your worthless life!”
She glared, and he tried to shut down his feelings for Lexyn. Pelzyq caring about someone never did them any favors. Perhaps that was why she was in danger. Whatever vengeful divine decided that everyone Pelzyq loved would suffer was surely laughing right now.
“And you’re just going to sit there?” Zyryxa said. “You’re a real piece of shit, Pelzyq.”
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For once, he agreed with the Ice Princess. He stared into the fire, contemplating throwing himself into the flames and ending it all. He fell out of the biggest and shittiest asshole in this frozen shithole. How could he be anything else?
A fist crashed into his cheek, sending him sprawling into the snow. Pain radiated through his skull, dulled by the dragon spit. Zyryxa grabbed her weapons and her drake, dashing toward the smoke. Her cloak flapped in the wind, revealing her unsurprisingly perfect ass.
“Run out there naked after a three-day beauty nap, and you’ll collapse.”
“Like you care,” she snapped, her and the drake glaring at him.
Pelzyq recoiled. Women used to be his specialty, but years of isolation had dulled his charm. No, he had killed it himself, and even then, it hadn’t been enough to keep Lexyn safe from the curse of his caring. The dragon spit was gone, and he reckoned he’d never needed it more.
Zyryxa growled, flawless skin prickling from the cold. Huddling her arms over her chest, she gazed yearningly at him. Pelzyq knew she coveted his cloth, not his cock, but he flexed anyway.
Her proud voice was reduced to a whisper. “Give me your clothes.”
Pelzyq licked his lips. “Pelzyq knew this moment would come. Don’t worry, you’ll never forget it, Ice Princess.”
“I need the warmth of your clothes, you ugly pervert.”
Why did it always have to be ugly? Instead of telling her about the clothes Lexyn made, he decided she’d pay for her arrogance. He grinned. “Top or bottom?”
“Both.”
“Uh-uh,” Pelzyq said, wagging his finger at her. “Would the princess prefer to see Pelzyq’s muscled torso or his great, big cock?”
She snarled, her fists closing. “The Top.”
“You would like the top,” he said, knowing that this bitch was too proud to let anyone ride her. He tossed her his top, lamenting the loss of the best view in the tundra.
The top hung down to Zyryxa’s thighs, concealing all but her chiseled calves. She tore off the excess on the arms and chucked them. With one final look of disappointment, she retrieved her axes and mounted her drake.
Pelzyq sighed once she was gone, glad to be rid of her. His face stung, and the dragon spit left him sleepy. He tried to close his eyes, hoping some fiend would stumble upon the fire and kill him tonight while he slept. That wouldn’t be so bad.
When he closed his eyes, he saw Lexyn’s pretty face covered in tears, heard her soft voice screaming as a man ripped off her furs. Always, it was Pavinax. Always Pelzyq, powerless to protect the girl he loved. Even in his own thoughts, Pavinax still held power over him.
Shaking with fury, too melancholic to cry anymore, he seized his axe and ran toward the smoke. What did he have to lose besides his own worthless life?