This was it. She would acknowledge it.Yes?
I—
“Solveig!” Gerrie’s voice reached them as she ran down the beach, her gold dress from the ball hanging off her body, rumpled and askew.
Disappointment and irritation washed over him in equal measure at the interruption. Solveig stiffened, pulling away from him before she could finish whatever she’d been about to say.
Westley put his forehead to Solveig’s one last time before she untangled her limbs from his.
Before she could escape completely, he took her face in his hands once more and brought her lips to his softly, firmly, holding her to him as if he could imprint every second of this moment into his soul.
When he pulled back, he saw the bond flash in her eyes. From what he could tell, she didn’t acknowledge it. He urged her to. He needed her to. Though he stood by what he’d said before—as selfish as he was to want her, he didn’t deserve her.
Hope was a cruel thing.
“Alright, you two.” Gerrie’s voice broke the tension, and Westley closed his eyes with a sigh, savouring their connection. He stepped back from Solveig but not far enough that he couldn’t still feel her heat, smell her need.
Ice cold bath, ice cold bath, ice cold bath,he chanted to himself.
Your parents having sex, Solveig’s playful voice added to his chant. His mental walls must be in shambles if she was able to hear him.
What the Hel?He drew back as visions of his parents in a bed flashed into his mind, immediately killing his buzz.Thanks for that, he shot, and she smiled. It was blinding.
You’re welcome,she said, turning to Gerrie.
“What is it?” she asked her shieldmaiden.
“I’m sorry, Solveig, that looked super intense and I’m sad to interrupt what looked like it would have led to some great hate sex.”
Considering how their kiss had begun, Westley couldn’t keep the smile off his face.
Solveig rolled her eyes. “Gerrie,” she said, exasperated.
“The queens have requested you in the throne room,” Gerrie said, all traces of humour gone. They shared a knowing look and Solveig’s shoulders tensed. Westley feared to even ask.
“Very well, I’ll need to put some pants on.”
“Not necessary,” Gerrie said, her chipper attitude returning. “You have a great ass, more people should see it.”
Westley growled before he could stop himself.
“Oh knock it off, alpha male. We get it, you’re obsessed with her.” Gerrie waved off Westley’s attitude like he wasn’t dying inside, desperate for his mate to recognize their bond.
That his obsession was with more than her body, though he ached for that too. He neededher. And his Fae instincts pushed him to claim her, heart, body, and soul.
Solveig’s hand slipped into his, as if in tune with his needs, her callouses scraping against his own. He had to swallow down the surprise at her casual touch.
It was useless to resist. Rubbing a thumb along the back of her hand was instinctual.
Her reassurance soothed the beast inside, and he followed them back to the palace. Solveig left to dress in her rooms while Westley waited with Gerrie in the hall.
“Do you know what the meeting is about?” he asked.
“I asked, but they didn’t tell me,” Gerrie said, examining her nails.
Westley leaned against a marble pillar as he searched for something to say to Gerrie. When the silence stretched far too long for comfort, Gerrie finally looked at him, cocking her head to the side. He didn’t have to read her mind to know what she was thinking.
“I love her,” was all he could come up with. Gerrie’s dark eyes narrowed, perhaps looking for any trace of falsehood? He didn’t know.
