“Can it? There’s a war...”
“The civil war is mostly over.” He was gathering my clothes, helping me dress with hands that lingered longer than necessary. “The coup attempt was stopped. What’s left is cleanup and politics.”
He pulled his own tunic over his head, and I mourned the loss of the view.
When we finally opened the doors, the hallway was mercifully empty.
I had braced myself for stares, whispers, knowing looks. But Caelan led me through corridors that were conspicuously deserted. Either the castle staff had been given very strict orders, or everyone was very pointedly giving the prince and his mate space.
I suspected both.
“This way,” Caelan murmured, his hand warm on my lower back.
The castle was enormous. Stone walls, arched ceilings, curtains that looked older than anything I’d ever seen. Suits of armor stood guard at intervals. Images of wolves and mountains and battles decorated the spaces between windows.
It was cold, I could feel it even through the borrowed jacket Caelan had wrapped around my shoulders, but beautiful in a stark, dramatic way. The kind of beauty that demanded respect. That reminded you of its age and power.
We passed through a great hall with a ceiling so high I couldn’t see the top. Through a gallery lined with portraits of what I assumed were past kings and queens. Through a corridor with windows overlooking a courtyard blanketed in snow.
Duskmere.
I was actually in Duskmere, in another dimension, walking through a castle with my werewolf prince fiancé after having heat-induced sex in a war room.
My life had gotten so weird.
“You’re smiling,” Caelan observed.
“I’m processing.”
“Processing what?”
“Everything.” I gestured vaguely at the stone walls, the torches, the snow visible through the windows. “Almost four months ago, I was a struggling romance author with an abusive ex-agent and no idea that werewolves existed. Now I’m engaged to a prince, I can turn into a wolf, and I just had sex on a war table in another dimension.”
“When you put it that way...”
“It sounds insane.”
“It sounds like fate.” He stopped at a massive wooden door, turned to face me. “Everything that happened: the portals, the book signing, Damien being terrible enough that I wanted to murder him immediately. It all led here. To us. To this moment. The brought us together.” He cupped my face, thumb stroking my cheekbone. “You’re my mate, Riley. Mine. Whether fate arranged it or chance allowed it, the result is the same. You’re mine, and I’m yours.”
I should have had a clever comeback. Some quip, some joke, anything to break the intensity of the moment.
I didn’t.
“Okay,” I said instead. Quiet, simple, true.
He kissed me. Then he opened the door to his chambers and guided me inside.
The room was massive. A four-poster bed that could fit six people, a fireplace already roaring with warmth, windows overlooking a snow-covered landscape that stole my breath. It was luxurious in a way I’d never experienced. Royal, in the truest sense.
“This is where you grew up?” I asked.
“This wing of the castle, yes. These specific chambers since I came of age.” He was watching me explore, a soft smile on his face. “Is it... acceptable?”
“It’s incredible.” I turned to look at him. “But I’d live in a cave with you if I had to.”
“Hopefully it won’t come to that.”
“I’m just saying. The location doesn’t matter. You’re what matters.”
