Chapter 17
AUREN
When she awakens, I prepare a quick breakfast and some tea for my mate.
My mate. The words settle deep within. I know I shouldn’t think of her as mine before she’s truly agreed, but I cannot help it. The more I learn about her, the harder I find myself falling.
When she’s finished, she turns to me. “I’d like to bathe in the river.”
I arch a brow. “Alright, but I’ll need to watch over you.”
She stiffens. “Absolutely not.”
I don’t even blink. “If you’re worried about modesty, I’ll turn my back, but I will not risk your safety.”
Her mouth presses into a thin line. “Fine,” she says, voice clipped, “but you’d better not look.”
I hold back a smile. “As my wife commands.”
Early morning light filters through the trees and mist rises from the water’s surface, curling around the rocks like ghostly tendrils.
I stand on the riverbank, arms crossed, my back to Vivienne. Every muscle in my body is taut with restraint as I hear the soft rustle of fabric as she undresses behind me.
I clench my jaw as my imagination begins to wander. I’ve seen her in a nightshift, have glimpsed the curve of her bare shoulders when I helped remove her gown on our wedding night, but this is different.
I hear the faint splash as she steps into the water, followed by a sharp intake of breath before she emits a soft sigh of contentment.
A low growl of arousal rumbles in my chest before I can stop it. Closing my eyes, I curl my hands into fists. I shouldn’t be thinking about her like this, imagining her bare form and the water gliding over her skin.
I hear a splash, followed by silence.
Alarm bursts through me and I spin around, blade half drawn before my mind even catches up to my body. “Vivienne!”
Panicked, I scan the river. I’m already rushing in when I see a flash of her red hair beneath the swift current. I stop dead in my tracks as she breaks through the surface.
Water cascades down her form in shimmering rivulets, her head tipped back, eyes closed, lips parted slightly as she inhales.
For a single, suspended heartbeat, I forget how to breathe. I’m struck motionless by the sight of her as sunlight catches on the droplets clinging to her shoulders, her collarbone, the elegant column of her neck, and the top of her breasts.
Then her eyes snap open, and an indignant screech fills the air.
I curse, spinning around so fast I nearly trip over my own feet. “I wasn’t—I didn’t mean—” I rake a hand through my hair, my face burning.
“I told you not to look!” she fumes.
“I thought you had drowned,” I say quickly. “Or were dragged under by a Kelpie.”
She falls silent, and I’m just about to look over my shoulder when I hear her voice, “Kelpies are real?”
“Of course they’re real, Vivienne. Why do you think I was concerned for your safety?”
“Well, why didn’t you tell me you were worried about Kelpies?”
I frown, confused. “Are you saying it would have made a difference?”
“Yes!” She stomps past me, a fur blanket clutched around her.
“How was I to know you didn’t realize that Kelpies were real?” I stress. “I thought everyone knew such dangers existed.”
“Well, you thought wrong,” she snaps before disappearing into her tent.
Releasing a sigh of relief, I scrub a hand across my face. When I saw her hair beneath the water, I thought something had grabbed her. I’m just so glad she’s unharmed, that I don’t care that she’s mad at me. I’d much rather suffer her wrath than see her hurt or worse.
Perhaps she’ll forgive me after she’s had a moment to think about why I was concerned. But when she emerges from her tent and levels an angry glare in my direction, something tells me forgiveness is the last thing on her mind.