31. Catriona

31

CATRIONA

I set my weapons on the bureau, deciding tomorrow I'm forgoing the dress and arming myself properly, cover be cursed. I'm going to find the werewolf, and I'll do it in the next twenty-four hours—even if I must use myself as bait.

Felix comes up behind me and slides his arms around my waist. "Your expression is slightly concerning."

"The monster has shown itself to us twice, and twice, I've failed to kill it."

He doesn't respond, smart enough to realize I don't want meaningless words of comfort right now.

I whip around. "If it's not Millie, who?"

"Maybe it's Frida."

"She was off somewhere in the woods, looking for redcaps."

He smiles a little, his eyes crinkling with dark humor. "Maybe everyone is a werewolf."

I roll my eyes at the absurd notion. "I really thought it was Millie."

"I know."

"The cut on her arm…"

"I thought it was her, too."

"Is it Jane?" I ask, frustrated.

He shrugs. "I don't know."

I close my eyes and let my head fall back, growling. Then I pull my last dagger from its sheath and slam it onto the bureau, so angry and frustrated, I feel like I'm going to come undone.

Felix laughs softly. "Don't take your frustration out on the furniture."

I move my eyes to him, unamused.

His expression sharpens, his eyes darkening. He takes my hand, pressing it flat to his chest. "If you need a release for your anger…take it out on me."

"I have no desire to smack you against the bureau," I say dryly.

He leans close, his lips just brushing my ear. "That's not what I meant."

I lift my eyes to his as he tilts his head back, our gazes locking. A roguish smirk tugs at his lips.

It's the one I fell in love with.

Felix's eyebrows twitch when I splay my fingers over his shirt, and he groans low when I fist my hands in the fabric.

"Shut the door," I command.

He takes two steps back and presses it closed. We stare at each other for several seconds, tension sparking in the room, and then we crash into each other, lips hungry, hands tightly grasping.

I break the kiss, my lips traveling over his chin and then his jaw, pausing at his throat to breathe in the scent of his skin.

His hands tighten at my sides possessively. " Cat. "

My hands fumble with the ties of his shirt, and then I yank it over his head. He assists, tossing it on the bureau over our collection of weapons. I continue my exploration, skimming my hands over his hard torso, reveling in the feel of his long, lean muscles.

I draw back to look at him, running my hand down his side. His muscles contract under my touch. I see signs of his time in Galbreah—a small scar below his ribs, another on his shoulder. But my eyes focus on the one that's too close to his heart.

Touching it, I whisper, "This one could have killed you."

"But it didn't," he says hoarsely.

He swallows as I lean forward, kissing it softly. "I'm glad."

"Do you have scars, bluebird?"

"A few."

"May I see them?" he whispers.

My stomach clenches, and my mouth goes dry. Slowly, I turn my back to him, offering the ties of my dress.

His hands fumble a little, our nerves mingling.

"I've never…" I whisper.

"Nor have I."

I shoot him a look over my shoulder.

"I haven't," he protests with a laugh, leaning around me to kiss my lips. "I was waiting for you to realize you're in love with me. I was waiting for you to marry me."

"Truly?" I ask, still skeptical.

He turns me, pressing his hands to my shoulders. "Truly."

I release a heavy sigh. "I don't want to do this tonight, not when the werewolf is in my head and I'm angry that I failed."

He nods, understanding. He leans down, pressing a sweet kiss to my lips. "I don't want that either."

I wrap my hand around the back of his neck. "But you can kiss me."

"All right," he says against my lips.

I smile against his mouth. "You can kiss me on the bed."

"Even better." He leans down and picks me up, laying me down softly on the quilt. He then lies next to me, our bodies close, and lowers his mouth to mine.

Felix kisses me long and slow, chasing away my anger and frustration, leaving no room in my head for anything but him.

"I like being married to you," he says when I'm so content and warm I feel like I might actually be able to find sleep.

I run my hand up and down his back, stroking him absently, enjoying the warmth and smooth softness of his skin. "I like being married to you, too."

"But I realized something."

"What's that?"

He shifts a little, resting his weight on his elbow. "I deprived you of the chance to buy a glorious wedding gown."

I laugh a little, feeling a tug of disappointment in my chest. "It doesn't matter."

"Wear a wedding gown for me, Cat? Walk down a church aisle and promise to be mine in front of all our friends and family?"

"Is that what you want?" I ask quietly, wanting it, too. Wanting it so much.

He nods, stroking my hair. "I do."

"But we're already married."

"That doesn't mean we can't exchange vows when we return to Valette."

"What if your parents oppose our union?"

He laughs a little. "They won't."

"You're so confident."

"That's because I don't care." He grins. "There's freedom in that."

"I'd leave GHOST for you," I say quietly. "If it comes down to it. I'd choose you."

Felix swallows, his eyes softening. "Then we have nothing to worry about."

"Except a werewolf."

He exhales, long and slow, and then meets my eyes. "Should we go find it?"

"Tonight?"

He nods, looking determined.

"Yes." I roll off the bed to change into trousers. "Let's get this over with so we can go home."