That’s true. And the picture of Lord Eorl burns in the locket around my neck. I’d convinced myself thathewas the most handsome man of all. I’d created an entire fairytale in my mind about him, made him into a prince of our people, perfect in every way, beautiful like a hero of old.
But I hadn’t met Valen.
And now I have, it has changed everything... and nothing. I’m still on my way to Lord Eorl’s house to become his wife, and Valen will return to his people.
All this self-discovery and heartache... was for nothing at all.
We’re quiet after eating. Valen doesn’t offer any of his usual banter as he takes the tray and leaves it outside the door, closing it behind him and turning toward me.
Again without a word, he adjusts the sheet around his waist, the gesture drawing my attention to his inked chest, his muscled stomach, and the divots at his hips, and...
Liar,a voice whispers in my head.You’ve been staring at him all along; you never stopped.
True.
He makes his way back to the bed, and I’m still staring at the way his bath sheet dips just a little bit lower, revealing more of the trail of hair—silvery, too—leading down.
Between his legs.
To his cock and balls.
To that silver bar piercing the flared head with its small slit, where I touched him and he groaned so deliciously.
I never thought a man’s arousal would excite me. Never thought a man’s pleasure would matter to me. Make me feel powerful. Wanted. Sexy. Good about myself. Grateful to be here with him.
“What’s the matter, Princess? You look like you’re about to cry.”
That jerks me back from the brink of madness, and I shift on the edge of the mattress. “Of course not.”
“No, you don’t cry easily, do you?” He frowns down at me. Then he leans over me, all powerful lines, muscle and sinew, and I slide backward until I’m on my back on the bed. I blink up at him, and… his face is so close. Closer than ever.
That hard jaw. That soft mouth, at such odds with the sharp teeth. Those lambent eyes, like citrine crystals, flecked with dark green and black. Those brows, slowly drawing together in a frown as if he doesn’t understand something. Perhaps not understanding how he has found himself bowed over me.
But the next moment, his lips press against mine, and the frown clears, a look of wonder coming into his eyes. “Princess…” he breathes, “Gods, I swore I wouldn’t…”
I reach up, trailing my finger over his jaw, his cheek, his mouth. His lips chase after them, kissing the tips. His lashes flutter.
“What are we doing?” I whisper.
He sighs, hangs his head. Then he suddenly moves away, leaving me shivering. “Nothing. Lie down to sleep, Sweetheart. We aren’t doing anything.”
I beg to differ, but he pads away and puts out the lamp. I hear him move in the darkness, his steps mere whispers on the bare floor. I pull my feet up and curl up on my side on the bed.
It’s happening. He’s climbing onto the bed with me, and I want to hate it, hate myself for allowing it, but when he lies down, I only close my eyes, overwhelmed with… relief.
He settles on his side beside me, pulling the covers over us, his body exuding heat. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t move. I was sure I wouldn’t doze off under the circumstances, but the sound of his steady breathing lulls me to sleep.
Darkness descends. Shadows chase me. Growling, teeth snapping, screams. Pain and terror, and being dragged through the night, through field and forest, over rocks and hard soil. Surrounded by beasts who already killed my mother.
I can’t move. Can’t escape. I’m trapped. Taken. Stolen, never to be returned. Claws rake over my torso, my face, parting the skin and flesh, causing burning pain and scarring me forever.
Then someone whispers in the darkness, “I’m right here. I’m going to hold you, Princess. Say yes.”
“Yes,” I mumble, “yes…”
That’s how I wake up with his arms around me, his face buried in my neck, his breath warming my skin.
Feeling safe for the first time in my life.
