Page 88 of Wolfkissed
But she doesn’t know that men always think they do, that they own their females, be they human or fae. And she doesn’t know that, although I’m aware of the absurdity of such feelings, I feel that way toward her.
It’s less like I own her. More like, she owns me.
But the fury and pain are the same.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
ROSAMUND
I’m angry at Valen, but mostly… mostly I’m angry that I’m not supposed to hold his hand in public. Because of what my future husband may think.
I shouldn’t be upset. Valen is trying to help me, protect me, like Della used to do.
Della…Gods, I miss her. I miss my home. Even those two lumps, Kier and Bert. They have their faults, but they are my family. I always knew I’d call for these three once I settled down with Lord Eorl. I can still do it.
If it all goes well.
No reason why it shouldn’t. Except… Except I barely escaped with my life, and I’ve been on the road for days with a werewolf.
Surely, Lord Eorl will see why it was necessary, why I had to flee, and that Valen helped me. Valen is right, we need to discourage any rumors. Avoid holding his hand. Easy as pie. It’s not like I need to keep touching him, that I enjoyed being in his arms…
I hurry after his tall, muscular frame. His bare back is a work of art, muscles tightening and shifting as he turns to glance at me.
“Something the matter?”
I shake my head and follow him. He has scars on his back. Most of them are old and faded, white lines. I wonder if he got them as a wolf or in this human form. I want to know how often he fully shifts, and the circumstances. Is it true that he has to shift regularly? Does he shift to fight others? To court females? Males, too, or is he only into women?
And what does that matter to me? It doesn’t. Shouldn’t. Who he desires and prefers to sleep with is none of my business. I’m not sleeping with him.
Gods forbid.
I mean, I don’t even desire him. My belly doesn’t clench every time I look at him, every time those impressive muscles shift, every time he lifts me in his arms or smiles that annoying smirk at me, all-knowing and arrogant.
I don’t crave him when he touches me, when he hauls me against him, when I realize he’s aroused. When he talks about being hard for me. When he gazes at me with that shadow of lust in his amber eyes.
When he partly shifts, and his tail comes out, when his teeth become long and sharp, and his hands turn into claws.
When he growls, and his voice turns deeper, when he leaps on anyone who even thinks about attacking me.
When he’s angry with my future husband and says they’ll need to pass muster before being allowed around me.
…Shit.Idodesire him. I want him and have feelings for him. I got it bad.
What am I going to do now?
Nothing. I do nothing. Just follow him to the inn, trying to think of other things, like a warm meal, a soft bed, maybe even a hotbath, which reminds me of Valen in my bathtub back in my room, naked, grinning at me, inviting me to look?—
“This way, Princess.” He gestures at a two-story building across the street. “We’ve arrived at our luxurious lodgings.”
The street gate is open, and a cart pulled by a tired-looking horse exits. The carter doesn’t even look our way as he snaps the reins and the horse’s hooves clap on the stones paving the street. The paint on the outer wall of the inn is peeling, and its lower part is green with moss. The double doors, open inwardly, barely hang on their hinges.
A sudden urge to laugh grips me, and I clap a hand over my mouth to stifle my snicker.
“What is it?” Now he looks concerned, those thick, pale brows gathering like clouds over his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I wave a hand at him, and another fit of snickering grips me. “It’s just so…”
“Opulent? Rich? Way above our means?”
