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Chapter Seven

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Quinn’s chest tightened, not from fear but for the confliction parading across Averell’s face. She didn’t want to run him off any more than he wanted to incarcerate her for contemplating murder of his brother.

He wished her happy, and if she felt she couldn’t enjoy that with him, then he would let her go... but not without a fight. “You’ll have to do better than that if you aim to scare me away.” He shouldn’t be amused, but he was. The darling woman was at sixes and sevens, and rightly so, but he wasn’t going to budge from his place at her side. She needed him as much as he needed her.

She is ours, his wolf inserted. She is fierce.

That she is. Averell was made of stern stuff, exactly what the dull and stodgy monarchy of Annanvale needed. She will make an excellent wife. He reeled from the realization.

“You wish to be shot, then?” she asked in a quiet voice. The rays of the rising sun turned her brown tresses, bound into a thick plait and wrapped around the back of her head in a coronet, into burnished copper.

“I do not.” Yet, even as he stood his ground and held her tortured gaze, cold disappointment circled through his gut. He thought she was different than other women, had hoped she could look past his curse, his status in society, and come to care for him. She had to be; otherwise, why was he drawn to her, contemplating asking for her hand?

“Quinn, you must know that my wont is not to harm you—”

“Then don’t.” He tapped his temple with a forefinger. “Choices. We all have them.” When she didn’t relax her stance, he blew out a breath. “I won’t hurt you, Averell. Not now. Not ever.” He worked his jaw as he searched for the words he needed. “You... mean too much to me.” Was it love he felt so soon? Perhaps it wasn’t, but given more time together, it would turn into such feelings.

She narrowed her eyes as she adjusted her grip and trained the point of the arrow at his head. “Perhaps that may be so, but what happens when you shift? You said yourself you have difficulty controlling your wolf half. Will you eat me?”

Ah, she was so adorably innocent. Unable to help himself, he grinned. “There are different ways for a man to devour a woman.” Would that she’d let him be the one to show her. “Some of them are quite pleasurable.”

Her forehead creased. “How do you mean?” She slightly lowered her arrow.

Relief swept through him and he let out a tiny breath. “If I were to delve beneath your skirts and show you now, you’d cry foul and ram that arrow through my heart.” Quinn eyeballed her weapon. “You’re not ready for such scandalous adventures.” His length tightened as he contemplated drawing his tongue along her—

“Gah! You are annoying.” Averell narrowed her eyes.

Our mate is beautiful. She is a perfect match.

There is no denying that. He silently agreed with his wolf half as he stood, waiting for her to fully relax her guard.

She huffed when he remained silent. “I decide when I’m ready for something. Not you. Do you understand, Prince Quinn?”

He gritted his teeth over her mocking use of his title. “Agreed and understood.” He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Now, because our relationship is still fairly new and I harbor selfish intentions, I don’t want you to die in two nights.” One of his eyebrows raised. “Shall we give thought to a plan?”

“That is a good idea.” Though her eyes remained shadowed, she put the arrow back into the quiver. Then she hung her bow on the pommel of her horse’s saddle and stowed the quiver in one of the saddle bags. “Ah, Quinn, when one’s future has been condensed into just over forty-eight hours, things come into sharp focus, gilded in fear.”

The hopelessness in her soft voice speared his heart. “Come and rest with me. There is time enough for everything. For now, we shall merely exist and watch Day chase away her younger sister, Dawn.” He found a patch of thick, springy grass outside of the tree line and laid down. When he patted the ground next to him, she stretched out beside him, a quiet sigh shuddered from him.

“Would that we could remain like this for days, without a care or a worry.” She folded her hands over her belly and stared into the sky with a slight frown pulling at her lips. “Without thoughts pressing down.”

No one should need to suffer quick-paced events like she had in the span of two days. “At least I am here with you.” What would have become of her if he’d not met her? For the queen would have still killed her father and she would be truly alone to fight through the choices she had to make. If he’d not come to know her, when he met her at the ball and he defended his brother against her, would he dispatch her, a stranger, without care?

His choices were difficult as well.

“This is true.” She said nothing else, merely continued to stare at the brightening sky.

His throat constricted. In a quiet voice, he asked, “Please don’t kill my brother, because if you do, I am next in line for the throne. Contrary to what your mother said, I might not be the force my brother is, but that does not mean I’d be an ineffective leader.” He paused, his jaw working, his chest tight. “Yet I do not want that life.”

Averell snorted. “Your brother does?” She didn’t answer his earlier inquiry. Did that mean she contemplated following through with the assassination plot?

“He enjoys the intrigue and the politics.” Quinn grinned but didn’t look at her. “I have no patience for any of that.” Silence brewed between them. The heat from her body seeped into his side and for the space of a heartbeat he imagined what it would be like to wake up and find her in his bed as his wife. Regardless of the evil dictate put to her, he knew a powerful urge to see how she’d fare while in his world. “Two nights hence, my father is hosting a ball designed for my brother to select a bride.”

“Will you be there? I’ll wager you’ll not miss the opportunity to dance with beautiful women.” Was that jealousy in her voice?

Quinn tamped down the urge to revel in at least that small success. “I am obligated to attend the function, yes. It would be the height of folly to cross my father in this.” He grinned and looked at her. “Except now I will be guarding my brother instead of mingling.”

Her smile didn’t reach her eyes and her chin trembled. “From me.”

“If need be.” He laid a palm on her belly, and when she gasped, he smiled. “No doubt you’ll be the only woman outfitted with a bow and arrow. That alone will draw attention.”

She snorted. “You will be certain to disarm me before that.”

“Perhaps.” His gut tightened. Attention he didn’t wish for her to have. She didn’t belong in another man’s arms on a dance floor, but neither did he have a right to monopolize her time.

Averell turned her head, and when her gaze met his, the emotions there tugged at his heart. She was in a horrible position, but he couldn’t make the decision for her. “I do not want to find myself killed like my father because of someone’s else’s insane plan, but what choice do I have?” The tendons in her neck worked with a hard swallow.

He wished he could take away her pain, her anguish, and replace it with everything good. “There is always a choice, sweeting.” It was the second time he’d used such an endearment, and her eyes widened this time in surprise and pleasure. “Just as I always have a choice when I am the wolf. Is it a constant struggle to do the right thing, to choose correctly? Of course, but then, if life were easy, what would the point in living it be?”

“Nothing worth having is unless we fight for it.” She held his gaze and her eyes darkened to sapphire. “Will you fight for me, I wonder, if the moment comes?”

“With my dying breath.” Quinn pressed his advantage, rolled onto his side and claimed her lips. When he broke the kiss, he stared into her eyes. “Know that I will support whatever decision you come to, but also know that I am loyal to my brother. My fight will be to keep the both of you breathing and prevent evil from infiltrating this realm. How, I am not certain at this moment, but I promise to do so.”

She brushed a shock of hair from his forehead and then cupped his cheek. “I would expect nothing less of you,” she breathed and then it was she who stole the next kiss.

Desire flooded him. He moved and covered her body with his as he nibbled at the corner of her mouth. She was so sweet. Her kisses warmed him. When he drew the tip of his tongue along the seam of her lips, she opened for him and he deepened the kiss, seeking out her tongue with his.

Her soft curves fit his solid form like spoons nesting in a drawer, and he couldn’t get enough. The tentative response as she fenced with him spurred him onward as did the firm curve of her fingers at his nape.

“Ah, Averell,” he murmured against the side of her neck as he dragged his lips over the silky skin there. “What are we to do?”

She shifted position beneath him, her legs falling open to cradle his hips. “I do not know, but neither do I care in this moment.” When she lifted her chin to allow him greater access, he nibbled and licked a path along the underside of her jaw.

“In this, you and I are in agreement.” Quinn eased off of her enough to unlace the ties binding her leather bodice. Once the task was complete, he peered into her eyes and lifted an eyebrow in an unspoken question. She nodded, her blue depths clouded with desire, and he tugged the gathered fabric of her bodice down until her pale breasts popped free. He paused again, letting her know she was in control.

Averell smiled and it rivaled the sun. “Show me.” She grabbed his shoulders and pulled him down. “Take away this burning need you’ve started within me.”

“I’m afraid this will only add fuel to that fire,” he whispered and then sucked one of her erect nipples into his mouth.

“Oh!” The surprise in that one-word utterance had him chuckling. “This is... interesting.” She gulped in a breath. “Startling. I had no idea...” She arched her back on another squeal and he took full advantage by continuing his torment.

It didn’t escape his notice he was the first man to ever put his lips upon her body, teach her the wonders that two people could share. The pebbled skin drew him onward; the sounds of enjoyment she made low in her throat caused his member to grow and press tightly against the front of his trousers. Oh, he wanted this woman, wished to bury his length deep inside her, but he refused to rush it. She needed to acclimate herself to this new world, learn how she enjoyed being pleasured. When he released the bud with a slight pop, she whimpered a protest, but he blew on the skin he’d tormented, and when she shivered and guided his head back, he once more claimed the nub.

Her honeysuckle scent wrapped around him and infiltrated his brain. Did flowers smell as sweet as she? Averell was warm and soft and willing beneath him, and she felt right in his arms. When he kneaded her other breast with his free hand, she cried out again, her fingers digging into his nape. The slight sting of her nails acted as a prod and sent hot sensation tripping down his length, into his stones.

In this moment, when their future wasn’t certain, he was sure of one thing—he wanted Averell as his own in every way that mattered. Leg-shackling didn’t seem the death sentence he’d once thought when he contemplated legally binding himself to her.

Claim her, his wolf urged.

Quinn nipped the nipple and she sucked in a quick breath. She blinked open her eyes, the depths drugged with dark passion, and she pushed at his shoulders. “Averell?”

“You must stop,” she implored him in a voice throaty with emotion. She held his gaze. Need warred with confusion in her eyes. “What you make me feel is too big, too much, too soon after...” She shook her head. Tears welled in her eyes. “I buried my father today, and I...”

Her words were effective as cold water thrown in his face. “I understand.” He rolled off her onto his side and then flopped onto his back. His pulse thundered through his temples and he drew in deep breaths to calm his body. “I apologize for my enthusiasm and if I frightened you.”

“You didn’t.” Averell straightened her clothing, effectively hiding her charms from view. Her own breathing came in pants as she did up the leather laces. Probably for the best. Then she found his hand and squeezed. “You did everything right. I merely need time to think, and sleep I think.”

He nodded and concentrated on the lightening sky as the sun rose, but he clung to her hand, threaded their fingers together as if she’d vanish into thin air if he let go.

You are afraid she will choose to die.

As always, his wolf knew him too well. Yes, and if she does, how will I go on? She’s different. We’re well matched.

You love her.

Did he? Desired her, yes, respected the hell out of her, true, but love? He thought about her determination and strength, her wonder for the world around her, and the compassion she shared. Yes, perhaps I do.

He and Averell were silent for a long time, lying in the sweet grass with their fingers entwined as the world came awake around them.

Finally, he broke the quiet. “Wolves are very protective and territorial of those they love.” Not quite a declaration, but close. There was something about this woman that called out to him—both sides of him—and begged him to engage her on all levels. “They mate for life.”

She kept her gaze on the sky. “When you mate, do you change the woman into what you are as well?” There was no fear in her voice, only interest.

Ah, well that was hopeful. “I do not. Due to the curse, my affliction cannot transfer to anyone else.” He chose his next words with care. “I am not that sort of shifter, and I do not bite unless a woman specifically asks me to.”

Bite her.

Quinn shook his head, ignoring his wolf, though his member twitched to life once more. He wanted to see his bite—his mark—on her pale skin; to claim her as his. “However, there is every possibility I will pass the curse on to any male children I might father. The witch was adamant when she cursed my brother and I—and our male line forever.”

Another long stretch of silence brewed between them while they both contemplated the sky, the clouds, the birds, anything but each other. Their fingers remained interlocked.

Then Averell turned her head and looked at him. He met her gaze. She smiled even as tears softly leaked over her cheeks. No doubt grief bubbled to the surface. “Perhaps it is an acceptable risk if there is love present in the relationship.” She squeezed his hand. “After all, love is a powerful form of magic. It can bridge the gaps.”

Quinn returned her grin as comforting warmth infused him. “Bridges can be beautiful pieces of art.”

“Yes.”

For a long time, he was content to lay in the grass beside her, hold her hand while she softly cried. Nothing had changed, not really, yet everything had.

It was encouraging.