Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Scorching breath lodged in my throat. A throat he now held in his hands.
His eyes flashed. “All you must do is say yes, little beauty, I’ll remind you how good it can be between us.”
A reminder might not be a bad thing. Could be helpful. For decision making. In the future.
But I knew better.
And yet? “Yes,” I croaked, my will too weak. I wanted this moment. This escape. If only for a little while.
Delight lit his eyes, the sunset shifting to a sunrise.
I expected a rush of passion, but he didn’t even breathe at first. He simply leaned in, letting the space between us ache with possibility. I waited, aching, more desperate by the second. Then, just when I thought I could stand it no longer, he brushed his lips against mine in the faintest, trembling touch.
My breath caught. The kiss was soft, almost shy, a rediscovery rather than a claim. When I parted my lips for him, he followed the action with exquisite caution, his tongue meeting mine in a slow, searching stroke, as though he were tracing the memory of who we’d been… and the possibility of who we might be again.
He tasted like Jasher, my Jasher, but gentler, softer, like the first spark of dawn. A warm flutter cascaded over my skin, then sank deeper and danced beneath my ribs.
I cupped his firm jaw. Heat continued to gather and advance when his clawtipped fingers stroked my pulse. The reverence he displayed undid any lingering resistance. A breathy mewl left me as nerve endings awakened.
With one hand, he carefully threaded his fingers into my hair. The other he settled at my hip, a steadying and grounding force. I reveled in his barely leashed urgency and the quiet ache of a starving man doing his best to savor rather than consume.
Tracing from his jaw to his nape, I explored him as though the world had rewound just for us, rewriting the memory of every kiss that had come before. There was only here and now and this moment.
His breath shivered against my mouth, as if he fought to control a storm ready to unleash.
“Jasher,” I groaned, wanting and needing more.
“Yes, Moriah,” he rasped. But a second later, he tore away with a strangled sound. Between ragged breaths, he whispered, “The king approaches.”
Instant internal ice bath. I hadn’t worked up my plans against Ian!
With a single flap of his wings, Jasher launched off me and plastered himself against the far wall, coin twirling through his fingers like he’d been bored for hours. Meanwhile, I attempted to sit up, only to realize my bones had the structural integrity of warm pudding. I stayed there, breathless, lips definitely-kissed, willing myself to calm.
A knock hard enough to wrench a gasp from me.
I inhaled to ask for one minute—just one. Ahav opened the door as if boundaries, privacy, and emotional stability were optional.
He strode in, all power and authority. Fresh from a shower, he wore soft leathers and a white tunic. His gaze swept the chamber, landed on me, jumped to Jasher, then returned to me and narrowed. And there it was. The look. That deeply unhelpful, unnervingly perceptive countenance that said: I know what you were doing mixed with I’m trying very hard not to know what you were doing.
“Ah,” he said, his disapproval on vivid display. “I now understand why you protect him.”
Mortification detonated behind my eyes. Not only had I been caught in a compromising position—by my secret biological father—but he had apparently decided to practice his disappointed parent routine even before the birth of his little princess.
Jasher’s posture stiffened, his casual façade not quite as impenetrable as it had appeared. Kevin watched it all go down at his side, thankfully silent.
Kevin…kangaroos. Both started with a K. Any connection?
Okay, that was a ridiculous connection. I must be getting desperate.
“He isn’t like the others,” I said, strong in tone but internally dying.
My limbs remembered how to function. I stood and combed trembling fingers through my hair, then smoothed my clothing while pretending I did not look like someone who’d just experienced a life-altering kiss only to be surprise-audited by her father.
“Thank you for honoring me with your presence, Majesty,” I said, doing my absolute best impression of a serene, composed water maiden.
Inside, I whispered a prayer: Please, let him decide my face is red from… anything else. Literally anything.
“It is I who am honored, Oracle.”
“I’d prefer you call me Rye.”
He nodded his agreement. “You saved the life of my wife and child.” He bowed his head. “From this day forward, I am your ally. Rye. If you have a need, and I have the supply, it is yours. But hear me. I won’t allow your relationship with the creature to endanger my family or my kingdom. The monstra is a threat.”
“I understand why you think so. Truly.” And really, he wasn’t wrong about Jasher being a threat. But no wonder my mother had referred to me as ‘oracle’ in the barn. How could I not continue to lean into the powerful persona? There was no better way to reveal the truth about Ian. “Tinman and I stick together. If you prefer, we can camp outside the castle.” I cast a longing glance at the center spring. I hadn’t even gotten to soak in the water. “But before we go, there’s something you should know.”