Prince of Wolves: Autumn Court #3 (Rosethorn Valley Fae Romance)

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Prince of Wolves: Autumn Court #3 (Rosethorn Valley Fae Romance) Page 5

by Tasha Black


  “Hm,” she said, examining an apple the size of a child’s skull.

  “The secret is that the largest ones are never the sweetest,” he told her. “Find a smaller one.”

  She grinned and snatched a more normal looking apple from the pile.

  “How much money do you have?” he asked.

  “I… I don’t know,” she said.

  “Well, that’s important,” he said. “Otherwise, it could be embarrassing when you get to the cash register.”

  She pulled her wad of bills from her pocket and they looked through it together. She had enough to cook a nice dinner tonight and stock up on groceries for another day or so.

  “When do you work again?” he asked.

  They took a few minutes to look at her calendar.

  “Tomorrow is a day off,” he explained. “That means this money needs to last a few days. It would have been a bad idea to eat at a restaurant.”

  “Oh,” she said, looking alarmed.

  “We’ll get enough for the next few days,” he suggested. “When you are a better server, you’ll earn more and then you can save for a rainy day.”

  “Are umbrellas very expensive here?” she breathed, looking scandalized. “Does the money melt if it gets wet?”

  She clutched the wad of bills like it might sprout wings and fly away.

  “Uh, no,” he said, trying not to laugh. “That’s just an expression. It means that you save now for a time when something goes wrong. Then you won’t have to worry.”

  “That is very clever,” she agreed.

  They explored the shop, chatting about what they liked to eat and filling a basket with enough reasonably priced items to make a delicious meal.

  Though Ashe was naturally drawn to the most decadent foods, she never complained when he showed her something that better suited her budget.

  She was slipping right into this mortal life. It was hard not to worry that she might not go with him after all.

  Once their basket was filled, they headed to the counter to pay.

  The lady who had eyed Varik with such interest was looking rather dour as she packed up their bag. She must have realized his own interests were elsewhere.

  “Wait,” Ashe cried.

  The woman looked up.

  “Is there something here that Ronan can eat?” Ashe asked Varik.

  Gods, but it was hard not to love her. These feelings kept pushing to the surface no matter how hard he tried to tamp them down.

  “He’ll have some of our chicken,” he assured her.

  She nodded looking relieved.

  They left the shop together, and headed up the stairs to Willow’s apartment.

  Ashe’s apartment.

  He didn’t want to get too used to that.

  They got right to work, and twenty minutes later, they had covered every surface in the kitchen with food prep.

  Chicken stew bubbled merrily on the stove as Ronan chewed on a raw chicken wing in the corner. Ashe stood nearby, smiling and rosy-cheeked.

  “So do you think you could make this on your own now?” he asked her.

  “I just chop everything up and boil the heck out of it, right?” she asked.

  “Pretty much,” he laughed. “You can make stew with any starchy vegetables you can find for a good price and with even an inexpensive cut of meat. And it’s one meal that is only better the day after it’s made.”

  She nodded. “I am glad you showed me.”

  He watched in wonder as she began cleaning up.

  “How did you learn to do that?” he asked.

  “Oh, I used to help the cook sometimes,” she told him. “When I was little and the others were training.”

  It felt like a punch in the gut, this knowledge that because he had switched her at birth, she had been left feeling less than. He could picture her in the kitchen, scouring pots while her siblings learned to control their magic.

  “That was kind of you,” he said.

  “I liked the cook,” Ashe said, shrugging. “She was always nice to me, but she had a bad back. It was fun to help.”

  “You really like helping,” he observed, carrying a pan to the sink and soaping it up.

  “Not really,” Ashe said. “That was why I ran. I knew I couldn’t be a royal, living only to lead a kingdom. It didn’t feel right. And then when I realized I was a changeling… well, it all makes sense now. I’m not built to live for others in that way.”

  Funny, from what he’d already seen of her, he would have sworn she would adore a life helping others. And he’d only spent a day with her.

  “So, do you have a family back in faerie?” she asked quietly.

  He willed himself not to read anything into the question.

  “Just Ronan,” he said fondly.

  They both glanced at the pup, who was gnawing the bone.

  “He’s really wonderful,” Ashe said.

  “You have no idea,” Varik murmured.

  Ronan meant everything to him. He only wished he could give the little one the life he deserved.

  “What’s it like to be a bounty hunter?” she asked.

  No one had ever asked him that before.

  “Dangerous,” he replied. “But mostly boring.”

  She laughed. “That wasn’t what I expected.”

  “Oh yeah?” he asked. “What did you think I would say?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “You have an adventurous life. You go back and forth across the veil. You meet new people and learn new skills.”

  “Are you angling for a job?” he teased.

  “I’m becoming quite an expert in both realms,” she said, shrugging.

  “But you…” he caught himself just before saying she had no magic. It would hurt her feelings, and that he would not do. “You are too nice,” he said instead. “You would never actually capture anyone.”

  “No,” she agreed. “I would probably just accompany them on their day to day tasks and give them cooking lessons.”

  “That’s fair,” he chuckled.

  “This will cook a while, won’t it?” she asked, wiping the last of the mess from the counter. “I think I need a shower.”

  She wasn’t wrong. She had vegetable bits in her hair.

  And he couldn’t help but notice the bit of enchanted ice he’d given her, already nearly half the size it had been. Their time together was running out, one way or another.

  “Go ahead,” he told her. “I’ll finish up here.”

  He watched her dig through her dresser and then head to the bathroom.

  The water turned on a moment later and he tried not to picture her curvy form naked, rivulets of water skimming down her sides and over her breasts. He tried even harder not to picture himself, kneeling at her feet in the hot steam, lapping the droplets from her tender flesh as she trembled and burned for more.

  You’re here to bring her back. You can’t fall in love.

  But it was too late for that - far too late.

  He glanced down at Ronan, who was sleeping on the kitchen floor, paws twitching as he chased some small prey in his dreams, his small belly round and full.

  I’ll bring her back anyway, he promised his little one. I’ll find a way to convince her.

  Visions of pleasant ways to convince her invaded his mind, and he paced the floors of her tiny home, trying to think about anything but seducing Ashe.

  8

  Ashe

  Ashe emerged from the bathroom, hoping that Varik wouldn’t mind that she was dressed in more of Willow’s wonderful pajamas.

  The sleeveless top was thin and white with the words If You Love Me, Let Me Sleep emblazoned across the chest. And the pants were silky soft and carnation pink.

  Something about these garments made Ashe feel truly mortal.

  “Are you ready for an amazing dinner?” Varik asked.

  She padded into the kitchen and he glanced up at her, then did a double take.

  “I know, I’m wearing informal garb,” sh
e apologized.

  “You look… wondrous,” he told her, his gravelly voice making her want to shiver.

  Suddenly his expression went steely and he turned back to the stove, where he was spooning out stew into bowls.

  It figured. She was mortal and he was fae. She had known all her life which was better. Of course he didn’t want to be attracted to her.

  Which was a crying shame, because even though it was the last thing she wanted, she was attracted to him. There was no doubt about that. And she wasn’t sure she could ignore it much longer.

  She grabbed some glasses from the cupboard and poured out sweet tea for both of them. She carried the drinks to the small table next to the kitchen area.

  Varik opened the oven and the heavenly smell of fresh bread wafted out.

  “You made bread?” she asked.

  “No,” he said. “I toasted the bread we bought. See?”

  He held out the pan. The wedges of buttered baguette were crisp and melty.

  “That was just a hunk of stale bread,” she said wonderingly.

  “Doesn’t matter when it’s toasted with plenty of butter,” he told her.

  He looked pretty smug, but she could hardly blame him. He had turned a basket of cheap and scrappy looking ingredients into an incredible meal.

  “Ready to sample it?” he asked.

  “Very ready,” she replied.

  He placed bread and a bowl of stew on each plate and carried them both over. She headed back to the kitchen, grabbed cutlery, and placed it on the table.

  “Let’s see if it tastes as good as it smells,” he said, lifting a spoon to her in a mock salute.

  She lifted hers too, enjoying the chance to be lighthearted.

  Then she took a bite.

  “Gods,” she murmured through her mouthful.

  “You like it?” he asked.

  She closed her eyes and moaned in reply.

  “I’m glad,” he said, his voice gravelly again.

  “I know this can’t just be the ingredients we bought,” she said. “Did you use a little magic too? Don’t worry, I won’t tell.”

  “No,” he said, looking a little offended. “Willow has a well-stocked spice cupboard. There is nothing here you couldn’t do without me.”

  Without him…

  If he held up his end of the bargain that was exactly what she would be.

  Though Ashe treasured the idea of independence, it was hard to imagine continuing in this strange new world alone - especially when it seemed like such a fun and interesting place with Varik by her side.

  You’re a mortal, and he’s fae.

  There was a time, not so many days ago, when the imbalance of power would have gone the other way - Ashe being a princess and Varik a bounty hunter. In her whole life, she’d never really been lower in social standing than anyone.

  It didn’t bother her as much as she would have expected.

  She took another bite and watched as he efficiently downed his dinner.

  For all his kind and gentle ways these last few days, he was a bounty hunter, famed for his ruthlessness and determination.

  She would do well to remember that.

  He wouldn’t want to play house with a mortal girl for long.

  “What?” he asked.

  She felt the blood rush to her cheeks. She had been staring.

  “I was just wondering if I’ll like this stew as much in a year, if it’s still the only thing I can cook,” she said, smiling so he would know she was teasing.

  “You can always research on your phone. But I’ll show you where the town library is,” he promised. “You can check out cookbooks and teach yourself to make whatever you want. You’ll love it.”

  Oddly, Ashe felt very sure she would enjoy that.

  She dipped the last bite of her bread in her stew, letting it swirl among the colorful vegetables.

  He watched as she brought it to her mouth.

  Heaven. It was total heaven.

  “You’re a genius, you know that, right?” she asked him.

  He grinned like a pirate.

  “Well, lass, it’s getting late,” he said. “Ronan and I should go get settled.”

  “Where are you staying?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

  “Don’t worry,” he told her, getting up. “We have a place.”

  “Is that place by the rhododendrons in my backyard?” she asked.

  “Maybe,” he replied, not meeting her eyes.

  She glanced over at Ronan, who was sleeping hard on the sofa, paws draped leisurely over the side.

  Don’t do it, Ashe, her brain tried to warn her.

  “It would be a shame to wake him,” she said quietly.

  9

  Varik

  Varik looked on at Ashe, watching Ronan sleep, and felt something breaking in his chest.

  A man could not be the best bounty hunter in the realms for a hundred years if he fell prey to his impulses.

  Varik made a plan and followed it. His analytical and ruthless approach to his work made him wildly successful. And that made him sought-after in Faerie.

  He had worked harder than ever this past quarter century, doing all he could to win a prize he sought for Ronan more than for himself.

  Would he let it fall apart for one night in the arms of this mortal, raised in Faerie, because of his meddling?

  But in that moment, looking into her beautiful dark eyes, he knew the real question was how he could ever find the strength to deny her, even if his very life was on the line.

  She glanced down at her hands again, making his blood boil with her constant tendency to blame herself for her lot in life.

  He knew she wasn’t aware that she projected these sudden drops in confidence as if she were waving a flag.

  She probably had no idea that he wanted nothing more than to grab her by the shoulders and press his lips to hers, show her that her desire was not one-sided.

  “Let’s see if there’s anything comfortable here that you could sleep in,” she said, hopping out of her chair and rushing to the dresser beside her bed.

  He followed her slowly, his heart pounding as if she were going to fly the moment he stepped too close.

  But she held perfectly still, as if awaiting his touch.

  “Ashe,” he murmured into her hair.

  She turned, tilting her chin up to look him in the eye.

  It struck him again how delicate she was, so soft and vulnerable next to his hard angles and bulging muscle.

  Yet she gazed up at him with perfect trust.

  He reached out across the divide of years and realms between them and stroked her cheek.

  She leaned into his hand, eyes closing briefly, as if she heard sweet music.

  “Ashe,” he said again, as if he had forgotten all the other words.

  She saved him, opening her eyes and going up on her toes to press her lips to his.

  A dozen sensations swept through him at once, rocking him to his core as if he were a young boy again, stealing his first kiss.

  Her lips were so soft. She smelled like milk and honey.

  He tangled a hand in her hair, pulling her closer, thumbing her jaw so that he could taste her more deeply.

  She pressed herself closer, as if she couldn’t surrender herself fast enough.

  He growled against her mouth and lifted her in his arms, carrying her to the bed and laying her down with as much gentleness as he could muster.

  She waited for him, bewitching him with those dark eyes.

  He crawled in after her and slid one of the straps of her tiny shirt to the side so that he could press his lips to the tender flesh beneath.

  She trembled in his arms.

  He slid the other one down and kissed her other shoulder.

  “Varik,” she murmured.

  “Do you want me to stop?” he asked, looking up at her.

  He would. He would stop, no matter what, if this wasn’t what she wanted.

  “No,” she w
hispered. “Please don’t stop.”

  Flames of lust licked at him and he lifted her shirt, peeling it up over her head as she wiggled to help him.

  Her breasts were lush and perfect. He lowered his face to lavish one pert nipple with a kiss and then the other.

  Ashe arched her back as if begging him to take them into his mouth.

  He hummed as he suckled the first, while rolling the other gently between his thumb and forefinger.

  Ashe made a strangled sound of pleasure that nearly pushed him over the edge.

  But he was determined to go slowly. He continued to toy with her breasts until he could feel her body tensing.

  His own need coursed through him in sympathy with hers.

  He nuzzled down her belly and slipped his fingers under the waistband of her pajamas and panties.

  She lifted her hips to help him remove them.

  He sat back on his heels to take her in.

  She was incredible, her hair splayed across the pillow, dark eyes hazy with need, lips swollen from his kisses.

  “I need to taste you,” he told her, anticipating her hot blush in reply. He was still overcome when it was elicited.

  The wolf in his chest howled for him to claim her and he nearly succumbed. But he was determined to bring her to the edge of her pleasure first.

  And Varik of Winter always did as he intended.

  He nudged her thighs apart and drank deep of her enchanting scent. She stiffened when he pressed his lips to her tender inner thigh.

  “Does my beard tickle?” he asked her.

  “No, it’s just I… no one has ever…” she broke off, looking embarrassed.

  “Good,” he told her, pride rising in his chest. He wanted to be her first, her everything.

  He nuzzled her thighs again, this time tickling her with his beard on purpose.

  The music of her laughter told him she was feeling more relaxed now.

  He smiled and kissed his way closer to her sex.

  10

  Ashe

  Ashe closed her eyes in anticipation.

  Nothing could have prepared her for the wave of pleasure that threatened to sweep her away.

 

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