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merely grabbed her fingers tightly and led her to the ground by their saddles where they had been resting. He pulled out a spare shirt and unfolded it by whipping it through the air before handing it to her. Eagerly, she put her hands through the sleeves and into the fabric. It was even larger than the last one—Taric’s tunic fell far past her knees. She wrapped her arms in front of her for more warmth.
    Taric kicked his and Draevan’s leather bedrolls together with the edge of his boot. “You'll sleep here tonight,” he informed her, pointing to the bedrolls. “In the morning we'll find a safe place to tie you until after we've dealt with the giant.”
    She looked at the sleeping area with disgust. Sleep with them? Were they insane? “No!” she refused firmly.
    “Did you enjoy your spanking, she-elf?” he asked her.
    Immediately her heart hammered at full-speed. She swallowed, but then shook her head.
    “Well,” he said, “we did enjoy ourselves. So please keep that in mind before you speak. Now lay.” He pointed to the ground again, and this time she lowered herself obediently to the thick leather roll. Her haunches ached, and she had to adjust herself to her knees, pulling the edge of the shirt over as much of her body as possible. Taric dropped himself next to her, put an arm around her chest, then lowered the rest of his body down and drew a blanket over them.
    They were now spooning. She was spooning a human. What was next? Pigs flying? Perhaps a unicorn would walk on by?
    What was worse was when Draevan laid down next to her, his face just across from hers, and pulled his own blanket over them so that she was now snuggly under two. She realized that she was now being sandwiched .
    When she was a true elfling, she would sometimes crawl into her brothers' bedrolls with them on cold nights or when she'd had a bad dream, ignoring how angry they used to get with her afterwards. But this was close to two men, not just one at a time, and Taric already had his arm slung over her waist, his nose buried in her snow-white tresses.
    “You smell delicious,” Taric told her dreamily, the firmness that had been in his voice just a minute ago completely dissipated.
    A sob shook at her shoulders for a moment, startling even her. It wasn’t expected, nor could it be helped. It dawned on her, suddenly, that she would not leave until they gave her permission to go… Which might never be. Certainly, they didn’t seem to be in any sort of rush to leave her company.
    In response, the men’s embraces on her merely grew tighter. “You should really just let me go. You can't tie me up,” she begged. “You'll die, and then I'll be stuck!”
    “Firstly,” Taric replied, “that won't happen. We wouldn't have journeyed all the way out here if we weren't absolutely certain that we could defeat the giant. Secondly, you're a thief. Your life is forfeit to your victims, namely us, and it would be too much of a waste to hang you from the nearest tree.”
    She couldn't tell if he was teasing her or not; his tone could make her believe either way.
    Draevan patted his blanket over her hip and said, “Are you warm enough, elfling?”
    She curled her frozen toes. “Boots would help,” she assured crisply.
    He didn’t grumble at her terse words, only rubbed his thumb across her cheek. “Yes, but not having them would slow you down if you ran off,” he replied wisely. He surprised her by reaching down, grabbing her feet, and warming them in his hands, creating friction with his fingers. He squinted at her, seeming to be evaluating her looks. “You're all by yourself out here, aren't you?” he finally asked with a pitying tone. He didn't even wait for her to verify it before he asked, “How long?”
    What was it to him? Was he truly trying to get on her good side after just spanking her and sticking his fingers into a place no man had touched before? “None of your business,” she snapped, yanking her foot out of his hands