Chapter Eighteen

Kiran held his shirt in his hands, and Gwyneth felt him observe her as she put on her pants, followed by her shirt, and then tied her boots. He smiled as she turned to look at him.

“What?” she asked, her smile mirroring his.

“Nothing,” he replied. “Just enjoying the view.”

“Of me getting dressed?”

“Dressed. Undressed. Both are very good,” he teased.

Gwyneth chuckled and shook her head, but his words brought a pleasant warmth to her cheeks. She enjoyed hearing him express his attraction to her, just as she admired the sight of his well-toned physique, with only a few scars marring his otherwise perfect form. One particularly prominent scar stretched across his side, three long lines crossing it.

Curiosity piqued, Gwyneth approached him as he put on the rest of his clothes. She reached out and lifted his shirt slightly, running her fingers over the mark.

“How did you get that?” she inquired softly.

“In a battle.”

“A battle?”

“Yes, I’ve fought against others who weren’t Dark Wolves.”

“What were they?”

“Assholes,” he quipped, causing her to laugh as he enveloped her in his arms. “People wanting what I have.”

“Oh, it sounds like you’re describing my world.”

“Your kings fought too?”

“Not the kings. People fought.”

“Their kings didn’t fight with them?”

“Some rulers did. Some didn’t. Even in my modern day, there were wars being fought, often by people who did not want wars to happen,” she explained.

“That’s a very backward thing,” Kiran remarked.

“Some are leaders, and some are soldiers.”

“But a leader should be willing to fight alongside their soldiers, should they not?”

“I agree, but it isn’t so simple. There is a hierarchy,” she explained.

“Sounds like a messed-up one.”

“Yes, it is. It’s why the world is how it is,” she said, prompting Kiran to nod in understanding.

“Your world is odd. But maybe that’s why I understand why you must save it,” Kiran remarked.

“I’m glad you understand, even if you don’t like it,” Gwyneth replied.

“I don’t like it, but it proves my mate has a good heart. One which has room for many.”

Gwyneth smiled, and Kiran sealed his words with a kiss before grabbing his jacket. They made their way back to their horses.

“Maybe it’s time we discussed this party again,” Gwyneth suggested after mounting her horse.

Kiran laughed and got on his own. “It’s happening,” he declared.

“Don’t I get a say?”

“No.” He chuckled, and Gwyneth shook her head.

“I know why you’re doing it. Another trick to try to make me stay.”

“But didn’t you say you would have to stay now that you might never get the answers you seek?” Kiran pointed out.

Gwyneth sighed, reluctantly to reply, but perhaps it was time for her to stop holding herself back. Maybe she should just embrace the idea of the party, enjoy herself with everyone, and leave it at that.

She hadn’t attended many in her own world, finding them unenjoyable and uncomfortable. Drunken troublemakers often ruined the atmosphere, making Gwyneth want to distance herself from them as much as possible. But perhaps this one would be different.

“Maybe I will try to stay open-minded,” she said, and Kiran looked at her, appearing genuinely surprised. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. Am I that horrible?”

He chuckled, “You’re stubborn and fierce, not horrible.”

As they rode back toward the castle, Gwyneth felt a warmth enveloping her. The more time she spent with Kiran, the more she felt herself letting go and embracing his wonderful presence. He was unlike anyone she had ever met before, drawing her in and immersing her in an incredible place. She began to question whether her reluctance to let him in was solely about her duty or if she was simply afraid to allow someone to come so close to her heart.