“You’re brooding,” Rosie says, tugging on my hand. “What’s going on, Valen?”
“Nothing.” I put on a cheeky grin for her and see her face relax. “Just planning my way back home.”
The shine in her pretty eyes dims. “After the manor, though, right?”
I sigh. “After the manor,” I agree. “I told you I’d see you there safely, first.”
She ducks her head. “Will your friends come to get you?”
“Sure. I’ll pee around the woods, so they can scent me.”
Her head comes up sharply. “Are you serious?”
I chuckle at her expression. “I could do that, in wolf form. But I’m sure the news of my arrival with you will reach them soon enough. In fact… I can’t be certain, but I think a couple may be tracking us already.”
“What?” She looks around. “Why wouldn’t they come talk to you, then?”
“They are discreet people.”
“Really?” She frowns at me.
“No, you’re right. They aren’t known for their discretion. But they’re probably wondering what is going on. Why I am in a human’s company. Why I smell so aroused all the time.”
Her cheeks flush pink. “They can smell that?”
“Wolves can smell everything, Sweetheart.”
“That’s embarrassing. Oh, Gods!” She has probably just realized that those wolves have smelled her arousal, too. “Are they giving us… privacy?”
“I told you they are discreet.”
“Discreet is not a word I’d ever use for any of you.”
I press a hand to my heart. “Not even me? You wound me.”
Her expression clears. “You’re like a ram battering down a castle door, Valen.”
“Ouch.”
“I never stood a chance,” she whispers, and tugs on my hand. “Come on.”
What does she mean by that?
But I don’t have much time to ponder and wonder. As I had predicted, after we climb one more hill and the view clears, we see it.
The manor.
Lord Eorl’s home.
We’ve arrived.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
ROSAMUND
I stop at the summit of the gentle hill, Valen halting beside me. His indrawn breath sounds way too loud, while I can’t make any sound. I’m… elated, of course. Finally, we’ve reached the end of this perilous journey through the woods and meadows. My future lies within sight.
But I’m nervous. All this time, all these years, I’ve been telling myself stories about this moment, like a mother telling her child soothing tales before they go to sleep. Brave knights. Kind men. Happy endings.
