Chapter 21 #2
Those sinful smiles. Those lengthened canines. Those devastating words. All of them filled my head.
“I don't want you to forget me.” The memory of his deep voice rumbled through my mind, sending me spiraling deeper into forbidden territory.
What a dangerous thing to say to me. My treacherous mind and body clung to every syllable of those words, replaying them until they burned themselves into my memory.
It was foolish and reckless to even entertain such thoughts, but I couldn't stop myself.
Today's encounter had felt different. Like we'd stepped outside reality and he'd become someone else entirely.
Not the terrifying captor who'd stolen me from my family, or the man seeking vengeance against my father. He was just... Wolfe.
I shook my head, banishing the treacherous thoughts. Closing my eyes, I willed my mind to silence. The last thing I needed was to feed this attraction to a man who was nothing but beautiful destruction. Nothing but ruin could come of such dangerous desires.
I stayed in the bath for a few hours, soaking away the day as night fell completely. When I got out, I felt slightly better.
I wrapped myself in one of the fluffy white towels on the rack, securing it with a tight tuck at my chest. I pulled my damp hair back in a ponytail and padded into the bedroom. But the moment I walked in I froze.
Wolfe leaned against the window, his hair swept back in a style similar to mine.
He was dressed in his usual all-black attire.
Candlelight and moonlight framed his dark silhouette, drawing my attention to his high cheekbones and muscular frame.
Then I noticed my journal lying open in his hands, his eyes moving deliberately across the page. He was reading it.
A gasp tore from my throat before I could stop it. He looked up at the sound and that familiar smile curved his lips.
“Ziyka.”
“You’re reading my journal?” I marched over to him.
“Just the juicy parts about me,” he drawled, his voice a deadly mixture of silk and sin.
Asshole. I knew he would try something like this. I’d just hoped it wouldn’t be so soon.
“Don’t you have any decency or respect for privacy?”
“My Lady I assure you there is nothing respectful or decent about me.” His heated gaze dropped to my body and it was only then I remembered I wore nothing but a towel.
Mortification burned through me and I gasped, clutching the towel to my chest. I prayed it hadn't come loose in my frantic haste to get to him.
Gods, this man was going to drive me crazy. With him around, I’d forget my head if it wasn’t attached to my body.
He grinned when he saw my panic. “Nice bath?”
“Give it back.” I held out my hand to take my journal, ignoring his question.
Much to my relief he closed the book and handed it over to me.
I snatched it and held it close to my chest, glaring at him. “What are you doing in here reading my private things?” I demanded as if this wasn’t his ship and I wasn’t his prisoner.
“Relax Ziyka, the ship hit some rough waters and the journal fell on the floor. I merely picked it up and tried to put your bookmarks back in place.”
I bit my lip, not sure if I believed him. “I didn’t feel any rough waves.”
“You could be in the middle of a hurricane and feel nothing in that bathtub. I enchanted it to give you whatever you desire. Be it hot water, relaxation, or whatever your body craves. Even when you don’t know what that is.”
My mouth went dry as the full weight of what he'd done sank in. He'd enchanted the bathtub. For me.
Wolfe had thought about my comfort, my needs, and crafted magic around them. The gesture was so unexpectedly... thoughtful.
Then the rest of his words registered—whatever your body craves. Even when you don't know what that is.
Like how I craved him? The Fae prince standing a few paces away, with my journal in his hand and temptation in his smile.
Gods be good, my cheeks heated and I knew I was blushing violently. I looked away from him uncomfortably, but the damage was already done. I took a step back and tried to compose myself.
“Thank you. For the bath,” I stuttered.
“No worries.” He kept his gaze on me. “As for what I’m doing here,” He pointed to the corner of the room near the desk. I looked and my breath caught when my gaze landed on a little fire place with fire blazing from the hearth.
I’d been so fixated on my journal that I hadn’t seen it nor realized the room was warm.
“It’s going to get colder than we expected,” he explained. “Colder than what you’re used to in Stormfell. But the weather will warm up once we cross the Veil.”
His actions were so unreal, it almost felt like too much. Why was he being so… nice?
Nice. The word didn’t suit him and I wouldn’t make the mistake of thinking he was. This was something else. Maybe his way of showing some mercy so I’d be more compliant. Still the sentiment wasn’t lost on me and I was grateful.
“Thank you. I’ve never seen a fireplace on a ship before.”
“Magic can do anything.”
“Yes. It can.”
He straightened, shoving his hands in his pockets, getting ready to leave. “Goodnight, my Lady.”
“Goodnight.”
He stepped away from the window and was about to walk away but stopped, his lips quirking into a smile that promised trouble. “By the way, Ziyka. I didn’t give you a cruel or damning kiss.”
My mouth fell open. Bastard. “You did read my journal.”
“It was lying open on the floor. I'm not responsible for what my eyes see and some things can't be unseen.”
“You are such an asshole,” I fumed, glaring at him. “And what do you mean? You were absolutely cruel to me, and damning. You and your stupid kiss.”
His eyes lit up with wicked amusement, positively thrilled by my fury. “Ziyka, I never said that I wasn’t cruel to you or damning. I said the kiss I gave you was not.”
“Why is that even important?”
“So your facts are right. You see…” He took a slow, deliberate step closer, those eyes locked on mine with dangerous intent. “Describing a kiss as cruel and damning when nothing of the sort happened would skew your notes.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Oh, but it does.”
“Why?” I gave him a thin stare, hoping he’d see the bizarreness in this conversation.
“Because that was me being gentle. If I gave you a cruel, damning kiss you’d know the difference and we wouldn’t be standing here arguing about it.” He came closer, closing the distance between us.
“Wouldn’t we?” The words escaped before I could stop them, my heart racing, stuck in a maddening beat.
“No. We wouldn’t.” He dipped his head and his nose brushed over mine. “You’d be trembling. Your body would still be burning from it. Still craving more. Still yearning for my lips on yours as if you need me to live.”
The air left my lungs in a silent rush, making my breath shallow. Fire raced through my veins as his words painted images I shouldn't want, couldn't want. But my body betrayed me anyway.
My pulse raced, knees weakened, and every inch of me yearned for exactly what he'd just described.
I gripped the towel tighter, terrified it might slip, terrified I might reach for him instead.
He was close enough to do it. To kiss me. To give me a real cruel, damning kiss. Gods, what would such a kiss feel like? I had a feeling it would ruin me.
Wolfe lifted his hand, pressed one finger to my cheek and watched me in that way that made it hard to breathe. “Part of me wishes that I’d truly kissed you that way. Part of me still wants to.”
My lungs locked and I could feel my pulse throbbing in places I didn't want to acknowledge.
His fingers slipped under my chin and guided my lips higher, nearly meeting his.
Then he just stared at me and his gaze dropped to my lips.
For a second, I thought he might close the gap. I thought he might fall with me.
My lips parted involuntarily and I felt myself swaying toward him. Even my rational thoughts were pushing me toward him.
“I should leave.” He spoke with quiet restraint, his voice was so soft I barely registered that he spoke.
“You… said you couldn’t go there with me,” I whispered.
His jaw clenched and he moved a fraction closer. “But I never said I didn’t want to.”
For one breathless heartbeat, our lips met in the barest of kisses. One perfect, devastating moment. Lightning spread through my veins at the mere contact and my body melted into his, searching for more.
But then the fire popped. A sharp crack that hissed in the hearth. The sound made us jerk apart as if burned. The moment between us broken.
We stared at each other, frozen in the flickering firelight. Both breathing hard as silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken desire and the weight of what we'd just done.
Wolfe’s eyes searched mine filling with darkness that clouded the metal blue. I saw something break in his expression, a crack in that perfect control.
“Ziyka...” He whispered the endearment like a prayer and a curse, his canines lengthened.
Then shadows surrounded him and he was gone. Just like that he was gone, disappearing into the darkness.
My heart hammered against my ribs and my knees buckled.
Gods. What in the hells just happened?
We almost kissed. No, we did kiss. It was a barely there kiss where his lips had brushed mine but it still happened. And then there was what he said.
Trembling, I sat onto the edge of the bed and stared into the crackling fire. What would have happened if we didn’t get interrupted? I didn’t think the night would have ended with a kiss.
How was I to be careful when I couldn’t even trust myself?
With a ragged sigh I put on a nightdress and crawled into bed. Better to go to sleep. After what just happened all my mental energy was gone, so it would be pointless journaling.
Sleep was my only sanctuary. The place where I could escape reality.
I slipped beneath the blankets and put out the candles, allowing the fire to light the room.
Thankfully, the moment my head touched my pillow sleep took me.
It seemed that only moments passed before someone was shaking my arm to wake me.
“Elariya, wake up,” said a soft female voice in a hurried tone.
I stirred, rolling my head from side to side.
The grip on my arm tightened. “Elariya, my dear child, please wake up.”
My eyes snapped open, shock slamming into my chest as I met Grandmother’s gaze.
Grandmother.
She was standing over me.
I blinked once. Then again. She didn’t disappear.
She was really here.