by Shari Cross
“I’m yours, entirely. Nothing will ever change that.” My voice shakes with my response.
He seems nervous but determined when his lips return to mine. Our kiss has a new sense of hunger and desperation to it. My back arches off the ground and he slips his hands underneath me, his fingers fumbling with the ties on my dress. My heart is beating so fast that I’m certain it’s going to give out on me. I can feel his beating just as quickly and, after several more seconds, he slowly pulls my dress and chemise down with trembling hands.
The blood burns underneath my skin, flowing rapidly and spreading across my face and chest as he stares down at my body. It takes me a moment to realize that he has gone completely still, not even a breath passing through his lips. I open my mouth to ask him what’s wrong, but then I see that his gaze is locked on my bruises. His hands fist tightly in the fabric of my dress, his knuckles turning white, the anger building in his eyes. It stays there, burning through him for what feels like a century, while I wait with painful anticipation for his reaction, praying that our night hasn’t been ruined.
Slowly, he loosens his grip on my dress and lowers his head down, hovering right above the bruise on my ribs. He gazes at it for a moment before pressing his lips against it. The sensation of both intense pleasure and dull pain sends a shiver through my body, and my eyes flutter closed. His lips linger there for several seconds before moving on to each one of my bruises. Every kiss he places on my skin evokes a tremble, and my body shifts underneath him, the anticipation overwhelming. I want him so much. I need him. I need all of him.
Finally, after each mark of anger has been covered by one of love, he brings his mouth back up to my lips. With trembling hands, we remove the rest of the fabric that lies between us. Drake stills above me, questioning me with his eyes. He wants to know that I’m sure, that I still want this. I answer by trailing my fingers along the lines of his chest, watching them travel lower, passing over the ridges of muscle on his stomach.
“You’re so beautiful,” I say reverently.
His breath blows shakily across my face. “I’m nothing compared to you.” His fingers graze across my cheek and his lips find mine.
Together, we become one person, completing each other in a way I never knew possible. And, in this moment, we can almost pretend that there’s nothing but the two of us, nothing separating us, nothing threatening to pull us apart—even if it’s only for one night.
Chapter 24
HER
The chilling evening air seeps its way into the barn. I pull my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around myself while I watch Drake fasten the ties of his breeches. His dark hair is sticking up in disarray, and I blush as I remember how it felt when it was tangled in my fingers and when it brushed along my skin as he kissed my body. He finishes with the ties and moves over to his tunic, which is still lying on the floor. His skin looks silver in the dim light of the evening, reflections and shadows alternating across his body. He shakes his tunic out, allowing pieces of hay to drift gracefully to the floor, before pulling it over his head, making me instantly miss the sharp curves and definitive lines of muscle on his chest and stomach.
His gaze meets mine and he offers me my favorite crooked grin. There’s a shy innocence to it, though, making him even more tempting.
Slowly, he walks over to me and drops to his knees behind me. I turn my head to the side and watch him out of the corner of my eye as he begins to tie up the back of my dress. His fingers lightly graze my back when he pulls the ties closed, sending shivers through my body.
“Are you cold?” he asks. Before I can respond, he pulls my body backward into his arms, cradling me in his lap.
“Not anymore,” I tell him quietly, and plant a single kiss under his jaw.
He leans down and kisses me, gently at first, but the kiss deepens with every passing second. My heart accelerates and my hands tangle in his hair. He pulls away enough to whisper, “We should go inside.”
“Go inside?” What does he mean, ‘go inside’? My family is home.
His lips graze across my face. “Yes. It’s probably almost time for supper. I can stay, if you’d like.” The feel of his lips moving on my skin distracts me, making me forget momentarily why this could never happen.
“I . . . No . . . you can’t, Drake. You know you can’t.”
“I thought . . .”
“What? That this changed things?” I pull myself out of his arms and turn to face him. He stays sitting on the ground, his elbows resting atop his knees, his expression guarded. “I love you, Drake, but this doesn’t change anything. I still have to marry Charles, and everyone still has to believe that it’s what I want. I can’t go in there with you. It will only raise their suspicions.” His expression turns to one of anger and pain. I can’t look at him. Instead, I begin to pace, the repercussions of my actions seeping like poison through my veins. “No. I won’t do it. You have to leave. We’ve already taken too many risks.”
“You are not still marrying him!” he shouts furiously, while pushing himself to his feet. “And if you think I’m going to sit back and let you—”
“There’s no other option, Drake! We’ve been through this! I’m not discussing it any more!”
His hand wraps around my wrist, putting my frantic pacing to a stop, but I keep my eyes on the ground. “There doesn’t need to be any more discussion. You have made your decision and I have made mine.”
What decision has he made? To kill Charles? To fight against this, even though it will only lead to his death?
Tears fight their way up, tightening my throat and burning my eyes. “I will not be seen with you,” I say as I turn my back to him, willing myself not to cry. Not yet. Wait until he leaves.
He drops my wrist and turns away from me. I listen to the sound of his retreating footsteps, followed by the groan of the unlatching wooden lock. Lastly, the barn door slams shut, sealing me inside with only my own heartache for company. At least heartache is a companion to which I’ve grown accustomed.
Supper passes in uncomfortable silence. The only words spoken are, “Where’s Gregory?” asked by my mother. Father’s response is a shrug. Elizabeth sends a troubled glance in my direction. I push my carrots around with my bread and wait to be excused from the table. Surely Gregory’s with Mary. They can be together with no fear of repercussions.
After eating enough to satisfy my mother and father, I ask to be excused, and push myself back from the table, not bothering to wait for an answer.
“Hold on, Addalynne,” Father calls. “Shouldn’t we discuss our upcoming travels to Synereal? We leave in five days.”
“Yes, I’m well aware. What is there to discuss?” I reply as calmly as I can manage while turning around to face my family. Seeing their faces staring back at me makes my heart constrict with the realization that my days with them are numbered. I’ve been so focused on losing Drake that I haven’t thought about my family. Once Charles owns me completely, I’ll lose them too. Time with them won’t be something he’ll grant me. The thought leaves me feeling as though I’m staring down a narrow tunnel, watching the infinite darkness move precariously closer, my days trickling down to the moment I lose everything.
“First off, are you prepared?” Father asks, his voice drifting over me, returning me to the familiar walls of my home. I blink several times, allowing myself to focus on his face and his question.
Prepared? I’ll never be prepared. I feel Elizabeth watching me and I know she’s internally screaming at me to tell the truth. I chance a glimpse in her direction and see all the doubt, fear, and anger I’m feeling staring back at me through her eyes. I should never have burdened her with my reality.
“I’m not sure I know what you mean by ‘prepared?’” I stall.
“Have you begun to pack?” Mother replies tenderly, offering me a comforting smile.
“No, but I still have time.” And I have to hold onto it with everything in me.
“And I’ll help her.” Eliz
abeth’s voice surprises me, but I’m grateful for her offer. She succeeds in helping me placate my parents, and I retreat to my chambers.
Before I close the door, my father shouts, “And don’t forget! The carriage we’ll be traveling in isn’t very large! You mustn’t bring too much—only your necessities!”
“And your wedding dress of course!” Mother adds as I push the door shut. My wedding dress? More like my wedding shroud. Charles is choosing it and will be bringing it with him when he returns from his fake quest tomorrow. I wonder what lie he’ll tell the villagers. I imagine him riding into town with a fake hellion head on a spike. I shake my head and push the image away. I don’t want to think about Charles or the impending wedding anymore.
I take off my dress and pull on my wool stockings before settling myself under my fur blankets. Even with the fire burning strongly, I feel ice cold. I pull the blankets over my head and try to sleep, but my emotions are racing in a hundred directions. My only comfort comes from thinking about Drake. I have never felt as complete or safe as I did when wrapped in his arms, feeling his body moving with mine. Now that moment feels like a huge contradiction. Still, I’ll never regret it. I may be marrying Charles, but I belong to Drake completely. I close my eyes and think of every freckle on his body, every curve and line of his muscles. I think of his eyes, dark and ignited with passion; his dimples as he looked down at me, smiling. I remember the way he held me and kissed me, and in no time at all, I’m no longer cold.
A strange creaking sound interrupts my thoughts, which are now floating somewhere between a dream and reality. My brain is too foggy with near sleep to decipher if it’s real or not, so instead of fretting about it, I let myself slip back into darkness.
Another creak, followed by footsteps. I’m awake. I throw the covers off my head and try to look around, but my chambers are bathed in darkness, the fire having burned out, making it impossible to see.
“It’s me,” Drake whispers. My heart skips a beat and I turn toward the sound of his voice. I can barely make out the shape of his shadow next to my bed—a black form, blocking out a portion of the grey wall behind him. “I had to see you.” His shadow moves closer and then lowers, the weight of his body pressing down on the bed.
My eyes begin to adjust to the darkness and I can finally see him. He reaches forward and runs his fingers across the length of my cheek, setting my body ablaze with desire.
“Drake, I . . .”
“Addy, wait.” His finger touches my lips, quieting me. “I need to say something. I’m sorry for leaving the way I did. It wasn’t fair of me to be upset with you, but I cannot bear to hear you speak of marrying him.”
“It’s not easy for me either, Drake. It kills me to speak of marrying him, but there’s no other way.”
“There is. There is another way,” he says decidedly, leaning in, and bringing the tip of his nose against mine.
My breaths are coming fast and unevenly as I try to form words. “Drake . . .” is all I get out before he quiets me again by pressing his lips to mine. His hand moves to the back of my head and he tangles his fingers into my hair, pulling my face tightly against his. Parting my lips with his own, his warm breath blows into my mouth, sending a yearning more intense than any hunger through my body. To my disappointment, he all too quickly pulls his lips away and leans his forehead against mine.
“Trust me, Addy,” he whispers, before leaning down and kissing me again. He pulls back slightly, “You have to trust me.” He returns his mouth to my lips. This time he deepens the kiss and elongates his body on top of mine. My body automatically arches into him and I wrap my arms around his neck, desperate to be closer. He lowers himself farther, his weight pressing me into the bed, awakening every nerve in my body.
Our kiss is urgent and unyielding, and my side of the argument is slipping further and further away with each passing second. I force myself to think clearly, trying desperately to remind myself why my side is vital. His lips move to my neck and I’m able to find my words.
“I trust you, Drake, but I can’t let you do whatever it is you’re planning.”
His mouth lifts slightly. “You don’t know what I’m planning,” he contradicts, his voice low and hoarse. Then his lips return to my neck, causing me to exhale roughly before forcing more words out.
“No, I don’t, but I’m sure it involves something that will likely get you killed.”
He pulls away again, a coy smile playing on his lips. “Actually, it’s much more thought out than that,” he replies breathlessly, before crushing his lips against mine. I give in for a moment, but after several tempting seconds, I grab his face with both hands and push it away from mine. Keeping my hands on his face, I stare into his eyes. They’re filled with desire and determination. He speaks before I do. “I promise you that I’m not going to get myself killed. I want a life with you, Addy, and I can’t have one if I’m dead. Gregory and I have a plan, and it will work, but it’s going to take your cooperation.” His words and tone show his resolution, and a spark of hope illuminates within me.
The thought of being able to have a life with Drake and to never be touched by Charles again is more desirable than anything I could have imagined, but I need to know how realistic it is. If I allow myself to hope, and it’s not a true possibility, it will kill me. “You’re certain this plan of yours will work?” I ask tensely, running my fingers through his hair.
“Yes. When we go to Synereal, Gregory and I will meet with King Theoderic. Though we were only in the Schild for a short time, he grew fond of us. Besides, he already asked Gregory to report any strange occurrences in Faygrene back to him. And he believes the Hunts were taken by a hellion. He’ll want to know the truth, and he’ll listen to us. Then he’ll agree to speak with you. All you’ll have to do is tell King Theoderic about Charles and his father. You have to tell him what Charles has done to you, and what he did to Sarah Hunt and the rest of her family. The King will detain Charles and Vernold while he sends Schilds to search Lord Berrenger’s manor. When they find the Hunt’s graves, he’ll formally arrest the Berrengers. Then I will find a way to kill Charles.” His voice is filled with malevolence as he vocalizes his plan. His expression is severe, his eyebrows drawn together, forming a harsh line, while he waits for my response.
“I want nothing more than to believe this plan will work, Drake, but I’m scared.”
“I know you are, but you don’t need to be. Not anymore. We can do this. We can beat him.”
There’s still a river of fear with a shoreline of doubt running through me, but he’s right. I have to trust that we can do this. It’s the only chance we have.
“All right. We’ll try it.”
His answering smile is radiant and, without hesitation, he crushes his mouth against mine. I move my hands to the blankets that are pressed between us and try to push them down. He realizes what I’m trying to do and lifts his weight off, helping me remove them. Once they’re successfully on the foot of the bed, he repositions himself to hover over my body.
His weight rests on his forearms and his mouth travels down to my neck. He shifts his weight to one arm and his other hand travels lower, his body moving slightly while he fidgets with something at his waist. After several seconds, his body stills, and he leans to the side, gently placing his sword and sheath on the floor. His lips return to my mouth and his hand to my waist. His fingers graze down the material of my chemise, before slipping underneath and moving up the length of my stocking. A shudder rips through me as his hand reaches my bare thigh. He grips my thigh firmly with his hand and his kisses become more forceful, taking my breath and all coherent thought from my mind. His hand releases my thigh and continues to make its way over my hip and to my stomach, causing a deep fluttering within me. His fingers rub along the skin of my waist and a moan escapes my lips. The sound brings a new round of urgency to him and, within seconds, he removes my chemise and throws it to the floor.
He inhales sharply as he gazes down at my bo
dy. I take this moment to let my fingers fumble with the strings of his grey cloak, but they’re shaking too badly, and he has to help me untie it. After successfully removing it and his tunic, I reach out and place my hands on his stomach, letting them graze along the hard lines of muscle. His mouth finds my lips, but I’m acutely aware of his hand tenderly traveling to my chest. My back arches toward him in response, giving him permission. Suddenly, he pulls away and stares down at me with an intensity that stops my heart.
“He will not have you, Addalynne. And he’ll never hurt you again.”
“The only thing that can hurt me is losing you,” I reply, my heart clenching at the thought.
“You’ll never lose me,” he swears, before leaning down and returning his mouth to mine. This time our unity is intensified with the newly found addition of hope.
Chapter 25
HER
The cracks in the wooden shutters allow the sun’s light to break in. My head is resting on Drake’s bare chest. His arms are wrapped firmly around me, holding me securely against him. I close my eyes and listen to his heart drum in my ear, slow and steady, its rhythm provides an instant calm to my frayed nerves.
After a few minutes, his heart rate increases. I lift my head and see him staring back at me. His eyes are bright with excitement, yet they hold a dreamy sleepiness. His hand traces tenderly across my back, his mouth pulling up into a lazy dimpled grin.
“Good morning,” I whisper.
“The first good one I’ve had in weeks,” he replies as he grabs hold of my hand and presses my palm to his lips. “No, that’s not accurate. It’s the best morning I’ve had in my entire life,” he murmurs into my palm, his eyes sliding closed.