Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

I sit on the cot in Conri's tent, waiting for him to arrive. He demanded I be delivered earlier tonight, leaving no time for Evander to sneak me off. I briefly consider trying to take care of my needs before Conri can arrive. But the idea of doing it on his cot…where he could walk in at any moment… The thought makes me gag.

Instead, I keep my hands busy and my mind focused on other things.

My cape is draped over my knees, thread beside me. I slowly embroider a tree in the same thread I used earlier to bond with Brundil. It is a reminder and a memorization. It is a physical manifestation of tying her magic to mine…and to the children I don't yet have that I dream of someday passing on these names and powers to, just as my grandma and mother did for me.

Without warning, the tent flap opens. I knot off the thread and quickly snap it with my fingers, returning the needle to my kit.

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting. But I see you found a way to entertain yourself." Conri smiles and approaches, kissing both my cheeks.

"It's good to have hobbies." I try and fling the cape around my shoulders, but I don't have a chance before Conri takes it from my hands and sets it aside. I have to bite my lip to keep myself from asking him not to touch it and clench my fists to stop myself from grabbing it back from him.

He glances back in my direction, noticing the former. "Oh, allow me."

Conri takes my face in both of his hands again, leaning forward to kiss me slowly. He sucks my lower lip between his teeth, biting lightly. The movement almost elicits a moan from me. I force my thoughts instantly to Evander—the only thing that can break Conri's charm. I think of Evander's mouth on mine. Of him next to me in his cot where I have pleasured myself for the past few days.

It keeps my head about me enough to break the kiss from Conri when there is a moment and pull away. "Forgive me, but travel still makes me weary. I do not think I will be a worthy bed companion for you while we are on the road. And you, my king, deserve nothing less than the most enthusiastic partner."

There's a glint to his eyes that complements the wickedness in his grin as he says, "I know what you're doing."

My blood runs cold. Those words. So simple. As sharp as a knife's edge running down my throat.

"My king?" I look up at him, trying to have nothing but confusion on my features. Play the part. Don't give too much away until I must.

Conri, wolf king, drops to one knee before me. The cot is low and he is tall, so our eyes are nearly at the same level. I can't clear a knot in my throat. My mouth is bone dry.

He seems to enjoy the silence. No, he enjoys what it does to me. Conri allows me to steep in it a little bit longer until he lets out the soft rumble of a chuckle.

"I know someone must have told you of my charm and you are doing all you can to resist it. I know you are most likely conspiring with Aurora to use her magic, in some way that I do not understand, to help subdue the influence."

I open my mouth to object, not wanting Aurora to be dragged into this. She's already on thin enough ice with him. The last thing I want is for her to face more unintended consequences.

He stops me by raising a hand, that sly smile still curling his lips. "I don't have to know. In fact, I think I like it better not knowing."

"What?" I'm too surprised to think of what my gasp of a word might be giving away.

"You see, Faelyn…" Conri rests both his palms on my knees and slowly slides them up my thighs. He pushes open my legs, placing himself between them as he shifts and leans forward. "It has been years since I last could enjoy the chase of a woman. Years. It's all well and good to have people throwing themselves at you. But it grows…dull." His lips split into a smirk, teeth shining. "I am a predator by nature; the hunt is in my blood."

His chest presses against mine. It compresses my breath. My head spins with his proximity. Every breath I take is on his exhale. The world has become so very small.

"So continue resisting me. Let me work for you. Let me show you how deep my desire runs. Make me ache for you—yearn for you. Show me your ferocity and watch how hard it makes me. It'll make the taste when I finally do have you that much sweeter." His lips almost brush against mine as he speaks. But he doesn't kiss me. The quivering of my lower lip nearly leads ours to touch. But still, he doesn't close the gap. Instead, with another low noise of amusement, Conri pulls away and stands. He goes to the lantern, snuffing it for the night as though this is just another evening…as if he hasn't found out the truth of my protest.

"What if I never want you?" I whisper into the darkness that comes crashing down around me.

"You will." He shifts around me, situating himself behind me in the cot and pulling me down with him. "They all do, in the end."

"I might never," I insist, instantly wishing I said "will" and not "might." How is it that I already sound weaker than I intended?

"If you are trying in a roundabout way to ask if I will force you to bed me, Faelyn, I will not." He runs his fingertips up my arm. "I have not forced anything of you yet, have I?"

"Nothing other than forcing me into your bed. And becoming your wife."

"Ah, yes…I will not sacrifice the well-being of my packs and my stability as king for anyone, not even my future queen." Conri seems genuinely…contemplative about the matter. "However, the bed. Would you like your own?" He seems genuinely surprised, as if he hasn't considered that I might.

"Yes." I test the ever-evolving limits.

"Very well." Conri shifts suddenly, standing. I fall back into the cot without him there. He crosses to the entrance of the tent and barks an order at Evander. In a matter of minutes, there's another cot brought in by two knights with another bedroll. Conri motions at both the cot I'm in and the new one. "Pick. I care not."

Moving to the other cot feels like a daze. The bedroll smells mostly fresh—unused. But I can still smell Conri near me. In the small tent, our cots are only a finger's width apart. But, still, it is my own…

"Better?" Conri asks as he settles.

"Yes," I admit, still shocked by what's happening. It breaks every expectation I've cultivated of Conri so far. We both lie, side by side, but apart. I stare at him through the darkness and, even though my eyes aren't good enough to see, something tells me that he's staring back. "Conri?" I dare.

"Faelyn." He is still awake.

"Would there be another way to ensure stability for the lykin other than marrying you?—"

He stops me. "Faelyn, a mere few days without the moon spirit in hand and someone moved against me. Pups were killed— children were killed merely because they were of my pack. That is one matter I cannot compromise on. I need the power of the moon spirit to keep the peace."

"And if that power were to be set free? Where would that leave me?"

A pause. "Do you have a way to do that?"

Freeing Aurora of her bonds and restoring her as a full spirit . But I'm not going to say that aloud… "No."

"Well, then it sounds like you have little to worry about. So, yes, you will marry me, Faelyn. That I am afraid I need. But"—he reaches over, taking my hand in his—"I hope that I can be a man you would consider yourself honored to have as your husband. That perhaps one day you will learn to not only tolerate me in your bed, but, infinitely better, to welcome me in your heart."

The words seem sweet, and pure. Simple. Could it really be that simple?

"I know how my pack speaks of me. But I ask you earnestly, give me the chance," he continues. "Learn who I truly am for yourself. See my love for my people—love that will extend to you. Let me win your heart. If you give in you might find you enjoy the chase, too."

My heart flutters as he releases me. Conri rolls over, putting his back to me. But I continue to lie on my side, facing him, peering into the darkness. As if, somehow, I'll be able to figure out what in the forgotten names of all the old gods just happened.