His masculine scent surrounds me—something akin to cedarwood and spice—as he coils his arm tighter around my middle.
My fingers twitch against the saddle, irritated that I even have the presence of mind to be so acutely aware of him and how solid and strong he feels against my back… how his presence makes me feel oddly safe and protected even though we’re still relative strangers.
I push these troubling thoughts aside when I notice an inn up ahead, situated at a crossroads.
“We’ll stay there for the night,” Auren says. He points to a line of dark clouds forming in the distance. “There’s a storm coming, but we should reach the inn before it arrives.”
By the time we reach our destination, the wind is gusting and the first few drops of rain begin pelting the earth. Auren dismounts before reaching up and effortlessly lifting me off Vaelen. He pulls me to his chest in a bridal carry and walks me to the entrance, so my boots won’t get muddy.
Just that extra bit of care he gives me, does something strange in my chest. And when he sets me down, his strong hands linger around my waist. I’m mesmerized as his blue eyes meet mine, and I realize how easy it would be to get lost in their depths. “Are you alright?” he asks in concern. “Do you feel unsteady?”
Warmth flushes my cheeks, and I take a small step back, smoothing a hand down my tunic, trying to appear more composed than I feel. “I can stand on my own, thank you very much.”
A knowing smirk curls his lips. “Of course you can, me'lira.”
CHAPTER 9
AUREN
Ihand Vivienne my coin pouch, my fingers brushing hers. “Go inside and get us a room.” I don’t want her standing out here in the rain. “Order some food while I get Vaelen settled in the stables.”
She nods, clutching the pouch tightly as she steps into the tavern.
As I walk to the back with Vaelen, a stableboy rounds the corner and stops dead in his tracks, all the color draining from his face. “You there,” I call out. “I’d like accommodations for my wolf.”
“Stars above, he can’t stay here!” The boy blinks several times. “He’ll scare all the horses!”
“I assure you, he will not,” I reply calmly. “This isn’t just any wolf. This is a Dire wolf of Valethryn. He’s a member of the king’s guard,” I add for good measure.
As if to emphasize hisvery important status, Vaelen proudly puffs out his chest and tips up his chin, looking every bit as regal as the title I just gave him.
The boy gives me a dubious look. “You’re… sure he won’t try to eat the horses?”
I exchange a look with Vaelen who appears just as insulted at the insinuation as I am. “Of course not,” I reply. “He only eats venison.”
Before the stablehand can argue further, I hold out a few extra coins. “This is for your trouble and this”—I hand him another one—“is to see to it that he has fresh meat from the kitchens this evening.”
The boy quickly agrees. “He can have that stall there.”
I walk Vaelen to the stall and remove his saddle. Once I’m done, I stroke his neck and look him directly in the eye. “You should be nice and warm here for the evening.” I glance at the rather nervous looking horses in the nearby stalls. “No matter what, the horses aren’t your prey. Understand?”
He chuffs in response and shows me an image of him covered in shining armor with the royal sigil, and I laugh. “Yes, yes,” I chuckle. “You’re a member of the king’s guard and would never do something like that.”
Valen chuffs again, then lies down on the fresh hay.
“Sleep well, my friend. I’ll come for you in the morning.”
When I walk back to the inn, the moment I step through the door, heat rushes over me, along with the scent of ale, roasting meat, and damp wood. The first floor is a tavern. It’s crowded and lively, and the people here look rough.
When I’d traveled to this kingdom with my men, we’d camped in the woods along our journey. I chose an inn tonight because of Vivienne. She’s a princess, and a bit of a spoiled one at that. And I doubted she’d appreciate sleeping in a tent.
Now, I’m wondering if it would have been wiser to stick to the forest. Especially given all the attention my new bride seems to be attracting.
Vivienne stands across the room, speaking to the innkeeper. Her red hair catches the firelight, glowing like embers. The rain has dampened her tunic, the fabric clinging to her skin, molding to her curves in a way that draws the gaze of every man in the room.
My jaw tightens as a group of Dwarves turn in their seats, their bearded faces angled toward her, eyes dragging slowly over her form. A pair of human traders lean close, murmuring to one another as their attention lingers where it should not.
Something dark coils low in my chest.
