Gen gives me an exhilarating rush, and yet I’ve never felt more at home than when she murmurs my name and traces my chest with her gloved hands.
18
Genevieve
Kieran looks at me curiously as we sit on a bench near my window, overlooking the full moon. It’s the first time in a year of monthly full-moon meetings that I don’t have an agenda. No games, no questions to fill the silence, no books to read aloud together.
There’s a strange awkwardness between us, and maybe it’s the close proximity, or maybe it’s this tentative newness between us, as though we both recognize that the love we share may go beyond friendship.
I know it has felt that way for me for a long time. Watching him grow into himself, with long limbs and burgeoning strength, his voice shifting from childlike to something deeper, kindled something more in me. This unknown need to cling to what’s familiar between us is the only reason I haven’t allowed myself to admit that there’s more to my feelings for Kieran Greenbluff than simple friendship.
There always has been.
Like the full moon outside my window, Kieran has been a steady presence in my life. While other friendships feel diminished by my roleas princess, Kieran has never allowed my status to have any bearing on our relationship. And now, as the pressure to be the perfect heir and perfect daughter only grows, I find myself desperate for Kieran’s steadiness. For his endearing smiles and constant jokes.
“What are you thinking about, Princess?” he asks, his voice soft and vulnerable.
I want to hide my true thoughts—the admission that I think of Kieran as more than just a friend leaves me too exposed and raw. But if I can’t voice my riotous thoughts to him, then is he as special to me as I believe he is?
“You. Us.” The words come out with a blush that scalds my cheeks.
His face beams with a crooked grin. “Us?”
“Kieran,” I protest, knowing that if I give him too much leverage, he’ll tease and torment me until I confess everything I feel for him.
His hand slides against mine, and I jump at the touch. “Princess, this is the first time we’ve been alone without a litany of games to occupy our time. Tell me why that is.”
I shake my head as he grasps my hand in his. The strength of his grip gives me the courage to say what’s on my mind—what I finally worked up the courage to ask him tonight. “Is there more to us than our friendship?”
“Gen.” His voice quakes. “Gen, you must know I feel more for you than only friendship. But…”
“But what?” My palm feels too hot against his skin, and I worry it may be damp with nerves.
“You’re going to be queen someday. I don’t want to hope for something I can’t have.”
I think of the crown, of the burden I’ll one day carry, but I drive the thought from my mind. It has no place here, not with him.
“I’d rather remain your friend than lose you,”he says.
“I haven’t let anyone take you from me yet, and I won’t ever allow that to happen. Kieran, you’re too important to me.”
He looks at me with an intensity that threatens to scorch me raw. “Very well then,” he murmurs, closing the distance between us, his warm lips pressing against mine.
Kieran’s lips are soft and warm—and so familiar that my heart aches with the memory of him against me. But my curse. I cannot let him, of all people, feel what my curse will do to him.
I try to pull back, but he deepens the kiss, pressing my back against the rough bark of the willow tree. His hand strokes my face, trailing down to my neck, where he presses gently.
He feels so good, so right, that I find myself forgetting all the reasons I should stop him from touching me, from kissing me. His touch ignites a blaze within me that I never thought I’d feel again. I reach out, stroking his arms, his chest, the hard planes of his stomach. My hands brush the coarse hairs on his forearms, and I feel as though I could be lost in the textures of him—soft yet firm, coarse and tender.
How did I ever think I could live without his touch? How, knowing now that he’s alive and well, did I ever think I could marry another?
“Do you like this, Princess?” His voice is husky, lips tracing the same path his hands took down to my neck. “Still as needy for me as you once were.”
His words make me hesitate, and I turn my head, pushing him back as I think of all the consequences this dalliance could have for mykingdom’s future. “Stop. We cannot do this. I don’t even want this from you.”
Kieran leans his head against the willow. “I can feel how your body reacts to me. No forced kisses like the one you gave Leland.”
Doesn’t he understand? I have a duty to Leland—to our kingdoms—to make this alliance work.
