Page 97 of Spar of Hearts

I don’t—

“—want you to see me…” she rasped, voice low and garbled.

…at my worst…

“…because if you do—”

—your feelings will change…

“Look at me.” He gently pulled her hands away, cupping her fur-patched face before diving deep into her fearful, golden eyes. In any form, her spirit was still in there. He wouldn’t let anyone stifle it, not even herself.

“Nothing will change how I feel about you. Nothing. I’m not going anywhere.”

He brushed his lips on hers, then rested their foreheads together.

His confession seemed to ease her agony. Her breaths became panting huffs as she shifted the rest of the way, tearing her one and only dress to shreds.

But that was a problem for tomorrow.

Ahh…A satisfied sigh released the visible tension in Anya’s haunches as she collapsed to the ground. The sight of her peace-filled eyes evaporated the last of his lingering fear.

“Do you want to run?” he asked, brushing a hand through her golden fur. He’d give anything to watch her revel in the moonlight, jaws wide and happy. Maybe he’d even run with her. He would run until his lungs burned if it brought a smile to her face.

Anya shook her head and yawned, showing off her toothy maw.

I want to sleep…I want to sleep, just like this. With my pack. With you…She curled around him, settling in right below the skylight he’d made for her. He couldn’t resist the simple addition to the shelter. Earlier, as he lined the skylight with sticks, he’d imagined Anya gazing up at the stars until her eyes grew heavy, falling asleep with a contented smile curving her lips. But instead, he now found himself staring up at the stars with his head on her warm flank, losing himself in the steady rise and fall of her breaths.

Was she calling him her pack? Or was she still foggy from a dream?

The thought of Anya considering him pack made a warm glow spread in his chest. It was a single word with a depth of meaning—a meaning he understood now that the Lupus Star had welcomed him into theirs. It meant she felt safe with him. She felt home. She felt accepted and cherished and cared for—like she was finally able to blossom and reach for the life she wanted.

And that was exactly what he aimed to give her.

I’ll be your pack, Anya.

Chapter 33

Anya Delemond

Anya took in Roderick’s sleeping face with bleary eyes as the woods stirred to life around them. The swish of grass, rustle of leaves, and perfume of blossoming flowers caressed her senses. The inverted triangle of three tiger’s eye piercings over his right brow caught a little ray of sun from the skylight over their heads. He shifted and released a soft breath, sending a lock of red hair across his forehead. She reached a hand to brush it back, then froze at the sight of her bare forearms. Her eyes traced from her wrists to her shoulders, finding nothing but pale skin. She dared a glance down at her chest pressed against Roderick’s shirt…

…as bare as the day is long.

She cupped a hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp as the night before flooded her mind. The agonizing throb beneath her skin, the pained howls trapped in her chest so tight she feared she would split wide open. The shift caught her by the throat, something that hadn’t happened in nearly a decade. Not wanting to undress in front of Roderick was part of her resistance, of course, but the fear that her control over her shift was waning was the driving force. What if it wasn’t just because of the Aquillan environment or exhaustion? What if she returned to Eteross, forced into to her beastly form every full moon? Her parents would put it together if she locked herself away three days a month.

True rulers didn’t get that luxury.

She could practically hear Cyrus’s mockery already.

Don’t worry, Uncle. I am happy to attend the summit in Her Highness’s place.

The Equinox Ball? Oh, sure, let’s just reschedule for a few days after the equinox. The nobles will love that.

She wouldn’t be able to answer questions, or sign documents, or help in emergencies—not without revealing her true self to the world.

Though in these small moments with Roderick, it felt like she’d already done just that.

The firm plane of his stomach was warm against her breasts. His heart thrummed under her ear as she snuggled into his chest. She didn’t have to be anything with him. Not a princess, or a queen, or a leader, or even Lycanian.