“If you expect me to let you leave this room looking like this, you overestimate the control I have over myself,” he growled.
“Let me?” she said, raising a brow.
“How about we skip this coronation and youlet meshow you what it means to bemyqueen,” he said, running a hand down her leg to her knee, hitching it around his waist.
“I think I have a pretty good idea,” Solveig said on an exhale.
“A pretty good idea is not sufficient for me,” he whispered into her ear, his hand trailing up the outside of her thigh.
She matched his husky tone. “What do you have in mind?” He must not have been coy with how much the idea intrigued him because she quickly amended, “We’re not actually going to skip the coronation, West, I’m just curious.”
A wicked smile curled his lips. “I could tell you, but I’d rather show you.”
He scooped her up in his arms and laid her carefully on the bed so as to not wreck her hair and dress.
“You know, it would be a lot better if I could use everything I have at my disposal.” His eyes fell, almost mournfully, to the top button of his pants. Solveig laughed.
“Fifty-seven days, and not a minute sooner,” she reminded playfully. He dropped his head between her breasts, his beard scraping her skin.
“I’ll just have to make do I guess,” he said.
He set her on her feet and took her hand in his, placing a finger to his lips before placing it on hers when she opened her mouth to protest. Fire ignited deep in his stomach when she flicked her tongue out to lick his finger before wrapping her lips around it and sucking gently.
“Fuck,” he said on a shudder. Images of her mouth wrapped around other areas of his body intruded his mind, taking over his senses. She nipped his finger playfully.
They slipped out of their rooms and tiptoed down the hall.
Where are we going?she asked.
You’ll see.
I hate surprises.
You’ll like this one.
Solveig squeezed his hand harder than necessary, delighting at the wince he tried to hide. She smiled to herself, satisfied.
He led them down the empty corridor of their rooms. North insisted on stationing guards there, but she and Westley would hear none of it. The compromise was guards at the end of the corridor instead of right outside or even inside their rooms.
Little did the soon-to-be queen know that young Westley had mapped out all the palace’s secret passageways—even creating new ones—for centuries. There were two in the hallway of their rooms, and they slipped through one before their guards could see.
Once they were in the dark stone passageway, Westley picked up speed, no longer caring about stealth. His Fae eyesight guided themthrough the twists and turns. In the dark corridor, Solveig could only make out his form, shrouded in shadows as he was.
They’d been down the secret hallway a few times before but not when it was this dark, the early light of the sun not strong enough to penetrate the shadows. Solveig trailed behind him, her footsteps slowing as her breathing became heavier.
She stopped abruptly, removing her hand from his, dropping her palms to her knees as she bent over.
This is not the cave, she told herself.This is not the cave. Westley is my mate.
His slow footsteps approached.Sol?
I need a minute, she said.
What happened? I just felt a wave of—
Fear, she finished the sentence for him.
From the corner of her eye, she saw him flinch. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. She was trapped, trapped in the darkness.
