The sudden, irrational need to be intimate with the female was like a blow to the gut, and Roy was immediately disgusted with himself.
He found his own lack of discipline completely and utterly appalling. Never has he allowed his mind to be clouded by such lustful thoughts.
He was a General, a seasoned predator who had faced death without blinking, an older male who has lived through many seasons, yet here he was, derailed by a single look at a very small, very female, very appealing Margay beastkin healer.
Behind him, he heard a sharp, indrawn breath that told him Bryant was experiencing the same staggering reaction to her beauty. If it was anything like his thoughts, he sure as hell wasn't allowing it. Roy turned to cast a lethal glare at the young soldier, wordlessly commanding him to get a grip, before looking back at the healer.
He forced his mind to reset. Frey was a healer, a sacred messenger of the Goddess, not some stray female to be lusted after in the ruins of a conquered fort. The craft of the healers were only reserved for those truly gifted in the world. They were the blessing of the Beast Continent, and he had spent his life protecting them. He would not dishonor them now, not for the sake of one delectable female.
Roy let out a long, heavy sigh, attempting to ground himself. "Who does the cub belong to?" he asked, his voice hoarse as he fought to bury his unholy thoughts of bending the healer over the nearest flat elevated surface.
"The baby was adopted by Clarise," she answered. Her voice was husky and rich, a sound that Roy found, to his mounting frustration, incredibly arousing. It felt as though his loins were listening instead of his ears.
Before him, the female he knew as Frey motioned for the elderly female servant to step forward. Inside, the Princess Eris was vibrating with a different kind of adrenaline. She had slipped into her character with the desperation of a cornered animal. She had to lie until it became the truth or they would never be saafe.
To him, she was Healer Frey; in reality, she was Eris, the "sinner" the invaders called princess, and the courageous female general who had sent a mere chestnut into the side of his skull.
"Clarise has been a faithful member of the Margay tribe for many years," Eris said, her voice steady despite the hammer of her heart.
"Unfortunately, she was not blessed with carrying her own offspring. This cub was left behind when one of our own passed during the birthing process. We all know how difficult that process has proven to be, now that the cub has lived, he has been named Uri."
She looked down at the cub, who oblivious to the invasion of his home, busily trying to hunt the intricate bone beads of her head covering. She reached up, removing the headpiece to save it from the cub's tiny claws, and then looked back up at Roy.
They stared at each other for a long, silent minute. To steady her nerves, Eris began stroking Uri's back, her fingers disappearing into his soft fur. Stroking him in an up and down motion, leaving Uri in a blissful state of calm. She kept her gaze fully directed on Roy, showing absolutely no fear.
She noted the long, jagged shaped scar that carved a path across from his ear, across his cheek and down his neck, ending at his collar bone. The mark was proof of a life lived in untold violence but she gave it no more notice than a passing shadow of the handsome male's presence.
Roy felt unsettled. He was used to females recoiling or looking away in pity when they first saw his face. He was not considered good looking in beastman standards by any means. The disfigurement had left him mateless for countless seasons, yet Healer "Frey" didn't seem to care about the ruin of his features. That realisation pleased him terribly, softening the edges of his usually reserved nature.
"The cub is well fed, his eyes are also the same coloring as yours," Roy remarked. He realised as he said it that it wasn't entirely true, he was just stating his observations aloud, the proud Warrior Roy was attempting to make small talk it seemed. How the mighty had fallen.
"Many Margays in this area have brown eyes, seems like a trait within our tribe," she replied simply. "Uri would have lived for a full season by the time the Leaf Fall begins. It hasn't been very long, will he continue to flourish under our care or will he be joining the Goddess above?"
Roy didn't feel offended by the bluntness, instead he appreciated her straightforwardness. She had asked in such a gentle, undemanding tone that he felt no need to be defensive. "We from Claw Kingdom do not feel the need to harm or kill innocent cubs," he replied coolly.
He watched as she nodded. Then, she honored him with a small, genuine smile, creating sparkles in the eyes of whom ever had the pleasure of seeing it. Roy felt his heart begin pounding wildly in his chest. She had an enchanting dimple in her cheek, and Goddess above, her eyes were bewitching. They weren't just brown, he decided—they were molten honey, the shade of liquid gold poured over a hearth.
He desperately needed to get a hold of his thoughts. He was acting like a lovesick young male experiencing his first heat cycle, and he felt just as awkward. He was too old, too scarred, and too high-ranking for this. Roy felt like he was losing control.
As he forced himself to focus, he noticed her scent. It was heavy, masked entirely by the smell of dizzy flowers. It was as if she had rolled in a field of them specifically to cover her natural musk.
Since healers had previously used the petals to alleviate pain and soreness, Roy didn't think too deeply on it; he assumed she had been preparing medicines before he arrived. Afterall, he himself knew the importance of the herb.
Before he could ask another question, Bryant shuffled hesitantly forward to stand next to his leader, his eyes wide and glazed. Unable to hide the lust in his eyes.
"If your sister looks like you, she would be a grand prize indeed" he blurted out, unable to help himself.
Frey or Eris as we might say, turned her head slowly to look at the young soldier, her expression unreadable.