Page 44 of Wolfkissed
“Tomorrow.” He swallows. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t. I’m prepared.”
Della may think I’m unready for what the world has to throw at me, but I was trained in this very home to expect the worst of people. I saw this coming.
My things are packed. And to be quite frank, I’m glad to ride away from this place. I was afraid of the moment, but now that it’s upon me, it doesn’t feel quite so hard.
“My lady.” He bows again.
I watch him walk away, dodging servants carrying platters of food and decanters of wine, my chest tight. It doesn’t matter that he’s upset with me. He won’t be accompanying me on this journey, anyway.
Much like I lost my parents, it’s time I lost everyone I love yet again, and it looks like it’s about to happen sooner than I thought.
Walking through the manor, pulling Valen behind me is starting to acquire a sense of familiarity.
He was right. Everyone was right. This is dangerous. I’ve let my guard down. That’s the kind of mistake that gets people killed. It was the sort of miscalculation that led to my mother’s death and my abduction by the werewolves all those years ago. Every night ever since, I’ve locked my door and climbed into my bed, slept with a knife under my pillow, and admonished myself never to forget the lesson I learned.
And yet here I am, defending a werewolf, determined to stop this cycle of nonsensical, unnecessary violence.
“In a rush, Princess?” Valen asks.
“I need to make sure everything is ready for our departure.”
“Are we going somewhere?”
“Don’t mock me,” I seethe. “You know very well what I’m talking about.”
And I should check the trunks, see that nothing important is missing. Della has her own ideas about what is essential, and also about my future husband, it seems, so…
We make it up the stairs in silence and start down the wide hallway leading to my room, when the leash tugs in my grip. Iturn around to tell Valen to stop fooling around… just in time to see him stumble and knock into a wall.
My breath catches. “Valen!”
He slides down the wall, eyes fluttering closed, until his knees hit the floor. “Fuck…”
Before I can second-guess myself, I rush to crouch down beside him. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” But his paleness behind the muzzle belies his words. “Just give me a moment.”
“But—”
He lifts his bound hands. “I’m fine.”
I reach for the rope around his wrists. “Let me take that off.”
My fingers are cold and stiff, and the knot is slippery. Frowning, I tug harder, cursing under my breath, when he suddenly spreads his hands and snaps the rope.
With a gasp, I glance up, but he doesn’t move from the spot. His golden eyes bore into me.
“Take the muzzle off me,” he says. “Go on, princess. You don’t fear me, do you?”
I’m terrified, but also fascinated, by his long, muscular body, his gruff voice, all the angles and cut lines begging for my touch.
As if in a dream, I slide my hands behind his head, finding the clasp and opening it. I remove the muzzle and swallow hard when I find that generous mouth tipped into a smirk.
Then his lips part, his tongue darting out to lick them, the piercing in it flashing, and fierce heat flares in my belly. “You… You’re something else, aren’t you?” he breathes. “Just…”
“Get up.” Rolling back on my heels, I stand, tangled up in my wet dress and struggling not to fall over. “I don’t know what the hell you think you’re doing. This is…”
