Page 83 of Wolfkissed
Not that such things should concern me at all. Of course I wasn’t made for someone like him. He’s dark fae, for all the Sleeping Gods’ sakes. A werewolf.
I’m human.
And why am I even thinking about being with him? This is a stroll in the woods for him, and I’m just trying to stay alive. Not to mention, nobody has talked about what might come after.
About us. Because there is no us. There is noafterfor us. Why am I even thinking?—?
Valen snarls, turning in a circle, face shifting, and I backpedal so fast I almost trip over my feet.
“What’s wrong?” I yelp.
“Humans.”
“But… they can’t be my people.” I wince, relax a little when I realize his rage isn’t directed toward me—then again, when has it ever been? He’s never been mad at me, not even when I put him on a leash and my family hurt him. “We’re far from the manor now.”
He sniffs. “No, it’s not your family. It’s a hunting party. I don’t know their scents.”
“You can tell, just like that? You remember every scent associated with every person you ever meet?”
He harrumphs. His tail twitches behind him, and I start. I hadn’t seen it appear. “Not all. Some are more memorable than others. I couldn’t fucking care less about the scent of your handmaid, but yours is… unforgettable.”
Heat licks at my face. “So what do we do? Are we in danger, you think?”
A low growl escapes him. “If they come after us, I’ll have to hurt them.”
I swallow hard because that’s a savage thing to say, and I should reprimand it, but instead something inside me clenches and a throb starts in my belly. Seeing Valen unleashed… is a gift. An exhilarating show of strength and power.
Which I should condemn and abhor.
Definitely.
“We should get moving.” He marches back to me and grabs my hand. “Come.”
I tug lightly on his grip, and he glances down with a frown. The shift is easing, only his ears remaining wolf-like.
“Are you all right?” he asks.
And with that question, he completely disarms me. “I’m fine. You?”
He stares at me, eyes widening a little, and I realize my question has also caught him off guard. “I…” The knot in his throat bobs. “I’m good.”
I drink in his beautiful face, the white streak of hair, the roughly-hewn lines of his jaw and cheekbones. “So let’s go.”
“Trust me to keep us safe?” he asks softly.
“You know I do.”
His smile dawns and spreads like a daybreak. “I wanted to hear it.”
“You want to hear lots of things.”
Then he does the unexpected: he turns and hauls me into his arms and just… holds me, his chin resting on top of my head. “Princess,” he whispers. “I won’t betray your trust.”
And somehow, I know he never would.
The memory of that embrace hums in my mind like a melody as we continue through the meadows, his hand tight around mine. After a while, I realize we’ve changed direction.
Again, I’m by no means an expert in journeys and wandering through the wilderness. My sense of direction isn’t informed by experience or magic. Yet, I thought I knew which way we’ve been heading all this time… Until now.
