My heart trips over itself as I look from Storm to Maxon over my shoulder.
One side of his lips curves up in a devilish smirk, and my stomach clenches in response. An image flashes behind my eyes of us in bed together, his body moving over mine.
“Pray tell what it is you're thinking to make you blush so?” Maxon whispers in my ear, making me jump.
Clearingmy throat, I tuck my hair behind my ear, nervously. “Nothing at all.”
“Right.” Maxon’s hands grip my waist, and he lifts me with ease. I quickly grab hold of the staddle and swing my leg over, adjusting my position. As I feel the softness of Storm's mane under my hand, the excitement bubbles up inside me. In a matter of seconds, Maxon has taken his place behind me and is grabbing the reins, his chest pushed firmly against my back, his strong thighs bracing my legs.
Storm begins trotting down the hill toward the gates, and I try desperately to ignore the sensation of Maxon’s arms around me. How nice it feels with his warmth surrounding me, like there is absolutely no space between us.
We pass through the gates and out onto the open road, a few soldiers and guards nodding in our direction. The distance between the castle gates and the village below isn’t too far, but the green fields that lie between are beautifully alive with wildflowers in an array of colors.
“Wow, so many flowers.”
“It’s weird. We don’t usually get wildflowers here.”
“Why?”
Maxon leans in closer, making me tense. “We are in the Autumn Court, Stóirín.”
“Oh, that’s right,” I breathe.
My fingers sink into Storm’s mane, and I try desperately to control my breathing. It takes all my willpower not to turn my head and find his mouth. All too quickly, we have closed the distance to the village gates and are passing through. Cobblestone roads make up the street, which is adorned with charming little houses. A handful of fae idle and chat, a couple of them stealinga glance at us as we go by, inquiring stares tracking us. The few who are in close proximity to the road bow their heads in respect as we pass, but Maxon merely acknowledges them with a nod. I cannot resist allowing my eyes to linger on the grey skinned fae with horns and wings, which is an extraordinary sight that is far from my usual experiences.
Just as a wolf emerges onto the road, the echo of a woman's shout fills the air. My heart thumps frantically in my chest as Storm halts abruptly, narrowly avoiding trampling the creature. A frantic woman comes rushing out, looking completely frazzled.
“Oh, Your Highness. I’m so–” But before she can finish, Maxon raises his palm, silencing her words.
“It is fine. No one was hurt.”
The wolf runs toward the woman, making my throat tighten with emotion. I watch in complete awe as a swirl of shimmering light surrounds the wolf, and it transforms into a young girl no older than twelve.
Maxon's gaze shifts to the young girl, who averts her eyes and lowers her head.
Maxon’s voice is gentle when he speaks, making my heart beat a little faster. “Maybe just slow down when you approach the street, leanbh.”
The girl’s light brown eyes widen as she nods, the mother mouthingthank youto Maxon as she wraps her arm around her daughter, guides her back toward the house.
“What is leanbh?” I ask as we start moving again.
“It means my child.”
My lips twitch. “That’sso sweet.”
Maxon’s hand moves, and I feel the warmth of his palm as it flattens on my stomach. The heat of his hand seeps through the fabric of my tunic, igniting my blood. Desire washes over me, and the only thing I can think of is what our bodies would be like skin on skin.
Is it normal to have these kinds of reactions to a man? I don’t think it is, but he isn’t a man, is he? He’s fae.
Turning the corner, my breath catches in my throat as I take in the magnificent sight before me. Nestled within the heart of the village are the markets. Sprawled like a labyrinth of wonders, its stalls and tents forming a colorful mosaic is a sensory overload.
Maxon gently tugs on the reins, and Storm comes to a halt beside a quaint garden in between two shops. Jumping swiftly from the horse, Maxon turns to me as I swing one leg over. Without any hesitation, his hands firmly grasp my hips, and gently lower me to the ground.
My hands automatically grasp his shoulders and trail down to grip his forearms. “Thanks,” I say, smiling up at him.
“Anytime.”
I step back, my pulse thrumming loudly as I clasp my hands together in front of me.
