I’m jumping to my feet before I’ve fully finished that thought. My muscles protest. Prys pulls away from my sudden movement, allowing me full access to Llywelyn. I scoop the prince up into my arms in a bridal carry and he doesn’t resist at all. He is a warm, pliant weight in my arms.
“He will berate me in the morning for letting him get too drunk!” I say. While three pairs of fey eyes stare at me in astonishment.
It is a lame excuse. I’m risking far too much by intervening. I am not behaving professionally at all. But it is too late now.
I turn my back to the fey and start striding towards Llywelyn’s bedchamber. My back is prickling. I can feel their stares. I’m waiting for a dagger to stab into my flesh.
“Must be one of those moral things humans get upset about,” says Gerwyn.
“We don’t have to abide by the wishes of a pet,” hisses Prys.
A chair moves. Fuck. I’m three steps from the door. It feels like a mile. If I can get through it, I can slam it in their faces and hopefully lock it. If not, I can brace myself against it.
Suddenly, Tae appears in the wide, shadowy doorway. He glares past me, at the guests. His good wing flutters aggressively and his eyes glow a demonic red. He opens his mouth and reveals a huge row of needle thin, very sharp-looking teeth. He growls, low and heavy, and I can feel the sound shaking my chest.
I dart past him. Fucking hell. I am so glad he is on my side!
“Fine!” snaps Prys. “Let’s go find entertainment elsewhere.”
The bedchamber door slams shut. I look over my shoulder. Tae is on the other side. I hope he is seeing the guests out and not eating them. Either way, Llywelyn is safe now. I can breathe.
The lamplight is soft in here, and it is quiet. It is so damn good to be away from that blasted, never ending card game.
Tae has turned down the covers, and the bed looks so wonderfully inviting. I swear I have never seen a more welcoming sight.
I carry Llywelyn over to his bed and gently lay him down. I try to move back, but his arms loop around my neck. Saffron-bright eyes fix on me intently. I stare back at him and feel as if I’m drowning in gold.
I feel his body move. A slow slide of his long legs across the sheets as he spreads for me.
My treacherous cock stiffens. I swallow thickly.
“No, Llywelyn,” I say softly. I’m not making that mistake again. I have enough sins to repent for.
He blinks slowly. Is he even seeing me? What thoughts are running through his pretty head?
I try to pull away from him, but he doesn’t release me. Instead, he tries to pull me closer, onto the bed and onto him.
“No,” I say sternly
His entire body recoils. He flinches as if I have punched him in the face. He lets go of me and I stagger back from the abruptness of it all. Llywelyn flips over onto his stomach. He draws his knees up, hitches up his robes, and presents his wonderful ass to me.
My brain ceases to function. My jaw drops open. The only part of me that is working is my cock. That part of me is happily swelling with every pounding beat of my heart.
I step towards the bed. Llywelyn is trembling. And I don’t think it is with anticipation. He is drunk and offering his ass, and shaking.
I force another swallow down my throat. “Llywelyn, you are very drunk.”
“Sorry, Iestyn,” he whispers forlornly.
My eyes close as my heart clenches with pain. Fucking hell. Iestyn. He said Iestyn. The name he called out in terror during his nightmare. The name of the predator who groomed him. I wasn’t sure before. On the night of his nightmare, he cried out, Iestyn. And then, half-awake, he told me about the man he thinks he loves. I wasn’t sure if the two were connected.
But now I know.
Gently, I place my hand on Llywelyn’s hip and roll him over onto his back. He stares up at me with wide, fear-filled eyes.
“What did I do wrong?” he whimpers.
“Nothing,” I assure him. “You can go to sleep.”
