Her soft breathing filled the air, and I looked down, realizing she had fallen asleep.
“Niamh,” I said quietly. “It’s time to get you back to the castle.”
She didn’t stir, and I sighed. Surely she’d wake up soon. This couldn’t be comfortable, but I couldn’t bear to wake her. She looked so peaceful, so beautiful with stark red hair and her pale, freckled skin. I’d wait. I’d let her wake up on her own, and then I’d walk her back to the castle so she could sleep in her own bed, and this was yet another instance that I’d pretend never happened.
CHAPTER 27
Niamh
All I knew was that I was warm. Deliciously, perfectly warm in a way I hadn’t been in a long, long time. I also couldn’t remember waking up once throughout the night. Normally I woke up several times shivering, never having enough blankets to ward against the chill of this place. Had I used an extra blanket last night?
I blinked my eyes open sleepily. The sun shining bright overhead disoriented me for a moment before my gaze dipped down to the large wide chest where my head was resting.
I froze.
A heavy green blanket covered Wolfe and me. Wolfe was still sleeping, his chest rising and falling under my cheek. His heart thrummed in a steady rhythm like a drumbeat, and the fire was now nothing but orange and red embers.
I’d fallen asleep next to a fire last night. I’d fallen asleep with Wolfe. Right after I’d seen him naked, seen his long, thick cock and imagined all the things he could do to me with it. Right after I’d heard noises coming from his cabin on my way back to the castle.
Noises that sounded suspiciously sexual. Like he’d seen me naked in a pond and needed to go stroke himself suspicious.
I swallowed, thinking about those groans and grunts coming from his window that had stopped me in my tracks, made all the heat in my body flood between my legs. It felt impossible that I’d been the cause of that, that my naked body had been the cause of that. Not that I wasn’t confident. I knew I had curves that drew the attention of many men—I just didn’t know Wolfe had been one of them.
Then he’d come out of his cabin and swept me up—not an easy task for most men—set me down by the fire, and told me the sweetest story about his brother that had lulled me right to sleep.
My eyes shifted as far as they could until all I could see were the chest hairs peeking out of the top of his shirt. I badly wanted to run my fingers over his skin, to peel his shirt back and take in all of him.
Oh no. No, no, no, no, no. This was so bad for so many reasons. I didn’t want to move, not one bit. I wanted to stay here curled up into Wolfe’s side. I wanted to bathe in his warmth, to bask in his grumpiness, to listen to all his stories, every one that he would grant me. I wanted him. Wholly and fully.
I wasn’t sure when it had happened, what moment my heart decided it wanted him, but it didn’t matter, because I couldn’t have him.
First of all, he might have lusted after me last night, but he’d shown no interest in returning my feelings, and that was for the best. If he did show interest, it would make it that much more painful because we could never be together. Not with some prophecy saying I was meant to be queen, meant to marry Cillian.
Cillian. Poor Cillian. How could I have done this to him? Fallen for his brother after he’d brought me to his castle and treated me with such kindness? Introduced me to his mother and father?
I was the worst. I was the absolute worst person who’d ever existed.
“I can hear you thinking,” Wolfe rumbled.
I sat up and yelped, looking down at him as he squinted at me. Hisbrown hair was disheveled, and I wanted to run my fingers through it. I tucked them in my lap.
He sighed and sat up. “I guess we fell asleep. Time to get you back to the castle.”
That was it? That was his reaction to us sleeping together, to my body curled into his like it just fit? This man truly was unshakable, but that was good, I reminded myself. Wolfe not returning my completely inappropriate feelings would make it that much easier to forget about them.
“What are you worrying about?” He arched a brow.
“Nothing,” I squeaked. “How do you even know I’m worrying?”
He reached out and brushed a thumb against my bottom lip, and I shuddered. “You’re biting your lip. You do that when you’re worrying about something.”
He blinked like he was realizing that he was touching my lip and setting my entire body on fire. Well, he probably didn’t realize that second part because he was absolutely clueless.
A throat cleared, and we both jumped. “Good morning, sunshines,” Cillian said, standing in front of us, his wavy hair as impeccable as always. A royal blue cloak fluttered behind him in the breeze, and his gaze took in the scene. “What happened here?”
“Nothing.” I shot to my feet. “Nothing at all. We just slept together.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “Fell asleep together, I mean. Just sleeping.”
Oh godwitches almighty. Why couldn’t I stop talking?
