I licked my lips. Her sweetness was still on my tongue.
It made me hungry—but in a place much different and deeper than my stomach.
It wouldn’t just growl but roar for her.
Pacin’ the room, I ran a hand through my hair. The night in the Thing came back to me. How fuckin’ reckless it had been to take her like that. How vulnerable we were.
I’d started this war with Oran Craig. I planned on seein’ it through, but there was also a part of me that wanted her without the bars.
It was an internal battle between the two sides.
My head was full of warrin’ thoughts, and my chest felt tight. I’d never felt that before. A pullin’ so strong, it directed my body wherever she was. It only eased when she was close to me. Close enough to feel the warmth of her skin.
The ball of covers moved, and she sat up, rubbin’ her eyes. Her hair fell down over her breasts in unruly waves, covering them, and her slight form was haloed by the dim light in the room.
“Got ants in your pants?” She grinned at me. She was warm with sleep, and I could smell her perfume in the air, even though she didn’t wear any.
I looked down. I wasn’t wearin’ any pants. And I didn’t see any fuckin’ ants in the room.
She laughed quietly. “I just meant…too anxious to sleep or something?”
“Or somethin’.”
“Want me to tell you a story? That’s what my dad did for me when I couldn’t sleep.”
“In these stories, does the prince always win?”
She thought about it for a second. “Yes,” she whispered.
“I’m not the prince in our story, Maeve. I’ll always be the beast.”
“I know.” She turned to the side table and grabbed her water. She lifted it towards me. “Long live the beast then. The king of villains in my story.” She took a long drink of water and set it back. “But why tell me this now?”
“A war is comin’. I don’t want you to forget who I am.”
“You mean…the beast who took me away from my father, the only home I’d ever known, forced me to Ireland and into marriage, andthemanwho is different with me than he is with anyone else?”
“That’d be the one.”
She smiled and my pulse kicked up.
“Come lay with me, Cian.”
I took my spot next to her, and she pressed her body close to mine, settin’ her head on my chest, her arm draped over my waist.
“I changed my mind.” She yawned. “You tell me a story.”
“I don’t know any.”
“You know at least one.” Her doe eyes looked up at me. “You mentioned Sadhbh to me once. Irish mythology, right?”
She pronouncedSadhbhasSive, which was how it was supposed to be pronounced. I wasn’t in the mood to tell it right then, but I knew she was askin’ this of me to distract me. She knew how to change the direction of my thoughts.
Quietly, I told her the story of Sadhbh. She’d been enchanted to take the form of a doe as punishment for refusing a dark druid. It was a sordid and complex tale, one that even included hounds.
Before I realized it, the sun burned through the windows, and Maeve was talkin’ about breakfast before we explored Belfast.
Maeve’s eyes were bright as we took in the new city. They grew wide and excited when I surprised her by taking her to the library there. It was like she was inside a museum.
