“Noted,” I mutter. “Anything else?”
“Don’t be late for breakfast tomorrow.”
Shit. I’d forgotten about that—the customary post-wedding family breakfast. A fucking joke. “Fine. But I expect my wife to be treated with respect. Kindness, even, if you can summon it from your cold hearts.”
Without another word, I whirl and jog up the stairs. It doesn’t stop Faramir’s prattling voice from reaching me. “Enjoy your wedding night, baby brother! Happy to lend a hand if you don’t feel up to the task.”
My hands clench as I stride through the halls, the ghost of shattered bones still whispering against my skin. I take deep, steadying breaths, trying to rid myself of the foul taste in my mouth, the stench of rot still burning my nostrils.
It’s late—after the dungeon, I'd checked on the servant in the infirmary. Faramir’s parting words linger on my skin like grime, and I can’t wait to scrub them off.
Outside my chambers, I nod to the six guards stationed outside. The room is dark. Mayah is asleep, her energy signature pulsing softly.
A pang of disappointment shoots through my chest, mingled with a faint sense of relief. I’d scrubbed my face and hands before returning, but I’m sure there’s lingering bloodsomewhereon me.
I want her to see me asZev, not the Dark Commander.
Especially not on our wedding night.
After a short bath, I pad back into the room.
For a moment, I just admire the sight before me—Mayah in my bed. I’ve fantasized about exactly this for weeks, never expecting it to actually happen.
Gingerly, I peel back the covers and settle in atop rose petals, leaving an arm’s length of space between us. It’s too dark to distinguish the finer details of her nightgown, but there’s enough bare skin to set my blood ablaze.
She shifts slightly, groaning in displeasure.
A quiet laugh escapes me as I watch her, a small smile curving my lips. “Sorry, baby,” I murmur. “Go back to sleep.”
Mayah shifts again, reaching out in the empty space between us.
My wife whimpers softly.
Me.She wants me.
A deep sigh escapes me—she’ll be angry in the morning about this. “You’ll be the death of me.” The mattress dips as I edge closer. “Come here.” I tuck her against my bare chest, stifling a groan at the softness of her skin against mine.
I brush a kiss to her forehead and try to stay awake as long as I can, savoring the contentment of having her in my arms.
There’s something nuzzling my chest.
Blearily, I blink away my disorientation as Mayah tries to hide her flushed face.
“Good morning, wife.” My voice is rough with sleep, and I don’t miss the way Mayah sucks in a deep breath at the gravelly sound. She glares at me, squirming out of my arms. Reluctantly, I let her go.
“You didn’t have to hold me in your arms like that.”
The corner of my mouth tips up.
Her glare burns hotter.
“No.” My smile stretches. “I didn’t have to.”
There’s a petulant curve to her mouth, and I want so badly to kiss her. My wife.
“What happened after I was sent to bed?”
My lips press into a thin line. “The guards interrogated the guests. It appears he was acting alone.”
