Chapter 13

ANA

Ana steeled her nerves and pushed open the door to leave her room. The heavy wood creaked, revealing Tilda's handiwork. Soldiers lay unconscious, mugs spilled beside them. A surge of relief washed over her, quickly replaced by a renewed sense of urgency.

With the window guards none the wiser and the others occupied with the ceremony, Ana darted through the dimly lit hallway and descended the stairs. Her skin prickled with every creak and whisper. She pressed against the cold stone walls, seeking solace in the shadows. Her heart hammered.

Swallowing the lump of fear in her throat, she rounded a corner, her eyes scanning the empty corridor for any sign of pursuit. The exit, a beacon of hope, beckoned in the distance. Glancing back repeatedly, she hurried toward the massive door, her palms slick with sweat.

Pushing open the heavy portal, Ana seized her chance. She sprinted into the night. The moon, a sliver in the sky, cast a faint glow. Stars twinkled, guiding her path as she fled the imposing castle. The weight of her decision settled heavily, the risk escalating with each step. Yet, hope flickered within, fueling her determination.

The sound of beating wings sliced through the stillness, growing louder, fueling a surge of panic. Was it discovery, a predatory gargoyle, or the beast Tilda warned of? The hairs on her arm prickled.

"No," she muttered, pushing herself harder. At the orchard's edge, a massive shadow engulfed her. She trembled, bracing for the unknown.

"Out for a stroll?" Rich with his charming accent, Quinn's voice startled her from above. Her heart lurched with a mix of surprise and something deeper. His footsteps landed softly on the ground behind her. She stopped before a tree, her breath catching in her throat, and she turned around.

His hand brushed her neck, sending shivers down her spine. She stammered, "Y-yeah, lovely night." She hugged herself, feeling exposed and foolish. Maybe she could bluff her way out.

"Aye, it is, but naught compared to your beauty." She moved back.

He drew closer, his every step mirroring her retreat until her wings hit the rough bark.

Trapped. His hands framed her face, his eyes searching hers with an intensity that stole her breath. It wasn't lust but something more profound, a flicker of genuine affection.

She swallowed hard, his closeness a tangible heat against her skin. As his fingers grazed her shoulder, the urge to resist evaporated. He leaned in. She whimpered as his mouth lingered on her neck.

"But I suspect you seek more than the view," he murmured, his voice a caress.

"You've been following me?" she forced out, searching for an escape route, anything to break his gaze. "Or did a certain gnome spill the beans?" His vanilla scent, laced with a hint of spice, swirled around her, clouding her senses.

"Your safety is our concern." His cheek, smooth and hot, gently brushed upon hers. The soft exhale of his breath tickled her skin as his lips embarked on a tender journey, trailing down her jawline. A surge of electricity coursed through her, making her stomach flip.

"Please, let me go," she whispered, resolve crumbling. The thought of escape faded with each seductive touch.

As his hands grazed her hips, the last vestiges of resistance evaporated. The world narrowed as he pinned her arms above her head. "In good conscience, I can't." He breathed warm against her neck. Her body betrayed her, leaning in, yearning for his kiss.

He inhaled deeply, his breath a mere whisper away from hers.

The heat intensified, pooling between her legs, a whimper escaping her parched mouth. She moistened her dry lips, caught in the web of his desire. His fingertips traced patterns on her skin, fueling a fire within. She met his gaze, offering a silent invitation.

Their breaths blended a warm and sweet concoction. He kissed her softly, exploring her mouth with his own. She shivered at the surge of electricity. His tongue, a curious adventurer, slid into her mouth, coaxing hers into a dance of escalating passion. He tasted like mint and chocolate, a heady explosion in her senses. Her core grew hotter and brighter with every touch.

The intensity escalated, their desires merging into a single, urgent need. The atmosphere seemed to grow warmer, the air thick with anticipation. With a sigh, she pressed closer, yearning for a deeper connection. Each brush of his tongue sent a jolt of raw bliss through her, her body a willing vessel for his caress. A moan vibrated through him, sending a tremor of excitement across her skin, a delicious friction that heightened their shared ecstasy.

He released her hands and propped her back against the tree. With a free hand, the prince cupped her breast. She tangled her fingers in his soft hair, pulling him closer.

QUINN

A grating voice shattered the moment, "I hope I'm interrupting." Guignol's sneer was as cold. As he approached, Ana tensed in Quinn's arms, a shiver running down her spine. He cursed inwardly at how fate seemed always to interrupt them.

He tightened his grip on her, feeling a surge of fury. With narrowe eyes, he glared at the intruder. His heart pounded, matching the frantic rhythm of his breath.

"As always," he growled, pulling her protectively behind him. He reached for her hand. Energy sparked as their fingers intertwined. He hoped she felt it, too. "We were just leaving."

Guignol's narrowed eyes scanned them both. "Do what you wish," he finally said, running a hand through his hair. "I shall have my chance with her soon enough. It is only a matter of time before she finds me irresistible."

Quinn snorted. The advisor's words held no weight. He had witnessed firsthand Ana's revulsion toward Guignol, the disgust evident in her every flinch and grimace. It starkly contrasted with the raw desire that flickered in her eyes whenever they were together.

"It is good to dream," he retorted, turning away with Ana in tow.

"The king has summoned you, my prince," Guignol called after them, his voice dripping with disdain.

"Understood," he said through gritted teeth. "Let him know I shall be there shortly." He continued walking, his hand gently guiding Ana.

After moving a distance away, he paused and turned toward her. He tilted her chin up to gaze into her eyes. "From the moment we met, I have fought the urge to possess you," he confessed. "To please you beyond anything you have ever known. I crave your warmth, your touch, your surrender. I long to be one with you. And I hope, with every fiber of my being, that you feel the same." He sensed her tremble.

"My feelings for you are … complex," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "I don't understand it yet, but I can't deny the pull I feel toward you."

"Then don't walk away." He leaned closer, taking in her honeyed scent. "Give us a chance to explore this connection. I promise it shall be unlike anything you have ever experienced."

The warmth of her breath lingered on his cheek as he lifted his head, the sudden absence a tangible loss. She stepped back, creating a chasm between them that mirrored the emptiness settling within him.

"I shall not force myself on you." He sighed. "But I have a request. Nae, more of an insistence."

"A request? What is it?" She tilted her head.

He moved a strand of her hair behind her ear, and she leaned into his touch. He wished she would stay there forever. "Don't venture out alone. The peril is too great. Ferocious beasts roam the way, and they shall take your life."

"That's why I asked Tilda for help. I have to leave. Please understand." She hugged herself, her voice choked with emotion. "With a king who orders others to mate with me like I'm some kind of breeding machine…" she trailed off, tears glistened in her eyes. "He even threatened to take me himself. Do you have any idea how terrifying this is?"

The pain in her tone hit him like a physical blow, causing him to swallow hard. He didn't want to see her suffer, didn't want to cause her fear. Yet, he couldn't deny his desires, his duty to his people.

He reached out; his fingers grazed her shoulder. He felt her shiver. "My father has his reasons." He hated defending the man's archaic views, but he was his king, his father. "I have no desire to keep you here against your will. However, I can assist."

His touch slid down her arm, the warmth and softness of her skin sending shivers down his spine. "I can train you. Let me show you how to wield a sword and harness the power of your wings. Permit me to help you secure your safety before you consider venturing out alone." He squeezed her hand, his grip conveying the intensity of his emotions.

She remained silent, her gaze downcast, but her hand lingered on his. He cupped her face with his free hand, searching for a flicker of hope, but all he saw was fear and sorrow.

"Stay and train. I shall take you wherever you want before my father can claim you. I prefer you safe without me, then dead." His words were laced with sincerity, his love for her an undeniable truth. "I shall not press my advances on you if that is your wish." With a sigh, the relentless grip of heartbreak tightened around him.

"What about you?" She surprised him by stepping closer. "What would you do if I got away?"

He clasped her other hand, pulling both to his chest where she could feel the steady rhythm of his heart. "I would be in agony, yet content knowing you were safe, happy, and alive. Even if you were not with me." He closed the distance between them, their bodies drawn together by an invisible force. The air crackled with unspoken desires and fears. "If you died, I would follow you, but only after seeking vengeance."

She nodded, turned from him, and they strolled in silence. She reached up to massage her forehead, a gesture that mirrored his internal turmoil. He longed to ease her worries, to erase the fear from her eyes. But what could he say? What could he do?

Finally, she spoke, "I agree."

His heart leaped. "Agree to what?"

"I'll stay and train with you." Her hands trembled slightly as she folded them together. Relief washed over him, mingled with a surge of joy. She was giving them a chance. "One condition," she added.

He placed a hand on her shoulder, eager to grant anything. "Name it."

She met his gaze, her chin held high. "When I'm ready, you'll take me back to where you found me. You'll ensure my safety before the king can lay his claws on me."

He raised his hand as if to touch her face, but then hesitated, the weight of her words settling heavily upon him. The thought of losing her was unbearable. A pang of sadness and dread gnawed at him. She still yearned for escape, still harbored doubts about him.

"As you wish," he conceded, his voice edged with defeat. They continued walking toward the castle, the silence between them heavy with unspoken emotions.

"What about the king?" She clenched her fists. "He wants the courting to begin."

They reached her door, and he stopped, his gaze lingering on her face. "I shall speak with my father," he assured her. "He will grant us time for training." The flicker of uncertainty in her eyes, the fear of his father's wrath. He wished to alleviate her anxieties, but the truth was, his father wouldn't be pleased.

With a final, longing look, he turned, a silent plea hanging in the air. He yearned to hold her close, to chase away her fears with his touch, but any forceful action would only push her further away. He could only hope that during their instructions, he could show her not just his strength and skills, but also the depth of his love and devotion. He would slowly chip away at the walls she had built around her heart.

"We start tomorrow." He walked away, hoping she would call him back. Yet she said nothing.