Slowly, I removed my riding jacket. Sitting near the fire in nothing but my long sleeved dress. The air wasn't cold, every breeze that moved across my body carried a strange, almost comforting, warmth.
My hair had become a disaster. Strands were already escaping the braid, sticking out in every direction like rebellious sparks. I tried to tame them back towards my head, but eventually gave up.
“There are some things you need to understand.” His voice broke the silence so suddenly that my head snapped up from where I had been staring into my lap, pretending I did not feel the restless urge to run.
“More rules?” I asked cautiously.
Judging by the rigid line of his shoulders, the conversation was not going to benefit me. His eyes fixed on mine, dark circles beneath them filled with the same cold severity I hoped we had left behind at the lake.
“The Wolf King is perceptive. He smells lies, tastes fear and he will be judging us the momentwe step into his territory,” he said slowly, another twig snapping between his fingers.
“So how do we do this?” I asked, leaning forward slightly. For once, my sarcasm failed me. I was tired. My muscles screamed from hours on horseback, aching in ways I had never experienced before.
“He must believe you are truly my companion. That I chose you as my equal, rather than a slave.” He explained. I watched as his hands tightened in his lap as the pile of sticks beside him finally ran out.
“So what? I walk behind you and scowl at everyone?” I ask a small smirk playing on my lips. The sarcastic comment slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it. Apparently, my tiredness couldn't stop it after all.
Rhael’s gaze snapped to me, sharp enough to cut through diamonds. His knuckle whitened where his hands clenched together. The flames cast shifting shadows access his face, carving deeper hollows beneath his cheekbones and sharpening the angles of his jaw.
“No, you will need to smell like me as a start,” he said flatly.
I blinked. For a moment I thought I had misunderstood him. Rhael was Fae, he had a scent, every creature did. The wolves would be able to smell creatures from a mile away. Based on their distaste for humans I would probably smell like dirt.
“How exactly do I change my smell?” I asked slowly, crossing my arms.Deep down I already knew the answer. I simply was not ready to hear it spoken aloud.
“You share my bed.” The words were simple, but each syllable dropped into my stomach like stones.
“Absolutely not,” I snapped, rising to my feet before I had realised I stood. I didn't know what I intended to do, but I sure as hell would not sit there whilst he told me we would be sharing a bed, on the first night of our trip, inside of a tent.
“Elara,” he said calmly, “it is not optional.”
His voice did not rise, but it was clear he would not budge. He had already decided, made the choice without even saying a word to me. Despite the promise to protect me, the bargain of tying his life to mine, I was still what I always had been.
A slave.
“You expect me to sleep beside you? When I have nothing but a cotton shift. I may be many things, but I am not that easy,” I snapped again, my eyes locked with him as I argued.
My shoulders squared, that familiar defiance returning in full force. I had not questioned him on many things, following his orders in front of the Nymphs, allowing him to hold me on that damned horse. But this was too much.
“You will,” Rhael told me. His voice remained perfectly level, no anger, no emotion. He simply watched me as I began pacing along the opposite side of the fire.
“No,” I shook my head, my steps became sharperand more restless.
“Elara,” he warned. I heard the irritation beginning to seep into his voice. Good. Let him feel a fraction of the irritation I had felt daily.
“No,” I repeated. Stopping my pacing to turn to him, my jaw set. I wanted to look intimidating but judging by the look of amusement in his eyes, I failed.
“This is political. Not intimate. I won't touch you until necessary,” he said calmly. As if he were doing nothing more than planning a meeting.
“You think that makes me feel better?” I laughed harshly. Did he truly believe that reminding me I was merely a political tool would comfort me?
“Yes,” he said looking up at me, as he pressed his hands behind him into the ground. His brows lifted slightly at my laugh, as though his confusion at my reaction was genuine.
“It doesn’t.” I muttered rolling my eyes.
For all his intelligence, it was becoming painfully clear that the Fae King understood very little about how other people felt. That or he had just never cared to learn. Arrogant bastard.
“You will be safe, you heard the bargain. Your life is tied to mine,” he said quietly, rising to his feet.
