Page 54 of Hunted

“Why… are you thanking me?”

“Because… I don’t know.”

Valerian was still inside of me, still twitching, occasionally throbbing. I wanted more. I bucked my hips, and he moaned. “Are you sure you’re a virgin?” he groaned.

“Not anymore. Can you do that again?”

“I can do more than just that.”

I moved my hips up and down the length of him again. “Show me,” I breathed. “I don’t want this night to end.”

“It doesn’t have to,” he whispered.

“Good… because I’m not done with you yet.”

CHAPTEREIGHTEEN

Iwoke up the following morning to an almost complete, and total silence. The winds that had been hitting the cottage all day yesterday and all of last night had died down, replaced by the gentle chirping of birds, and a soft, almost ethereal breeze. I opened my eyes and lying next to me on the bed I found Valerian, soft white locks of his hair falling across his chiseled face.

The fresh, vivid memories of what we did last night came surging up, bringing with them a fresh batch of emotions I hadn’t been ready to feel this soon upon waking. My chest tightened, and I felt a pull in the pit of my stomach that sent a pulse of warmth all throughout my body.

These weren’t bad feelings, though. I had enjoyed last night. I had enjoyedhim.I had asked him not to let me die a virgin, and he had given me what I had asked for. Neither of us had given a second thought to where that left us after… whether it was tonight, or when we got back to Arcadia, or after this whole mess was cleared up and we got back to the matter of the Royal Selection.

The assumption being that we were going to survive that long, and that things were going to work quite in that way.

Bold assumptions, Amara.

Still, a night of passion, a night of connection, it had felt right. Needed. When I looked at him now, sleeping next to me, he was less of a stranger. I went to brush his hair out of his face, but I stopped myself short of touching him. I decided to let him sleep and slide out of bed without being noticed.

When I got up, I realized Tallin had scurried into the bed at some point during the night. He lay curled at our feet, in about three layers of furry blankets. I smiled at him, too, and hedidreceive a scratch behind the ear. His entire little body twitched, but he didn’t wake; he only nuzzled more deeply into the blankets.

I let them both sleep as I snuck out of the bedroom and headed downstairs. Yesterday, we hadn’t been able to leave the cottage for all the wind and the snow. It felt like we were in the middle of a blizzard, and I thought when I opened that front door, I was going to find the cottage buried in six feet of snow.

There were barely a few inches of snow at the door, an almost unnoticeable amount for someone like me. What I did immediately notice was the bright sunlight beaming overhead, the lack of clouds, and wind. It was bright out, but it was a winter sun which only served to illuminate, and not to warm.

The air was crisp, and cool, and fresh as I took it into my lungs. This… right now, right here, this was the first time I felt like I was home. It was the first time the air smelled clean, and pure, and even if it wasn’t magical, it was close.

I exhaled, shuddering lightly as the winter chill nipped at my skin. I was clothed, but I hadn’t brought a blanket out with me. I wanted to feel winter’s bite, to rouse my connection to Arcadia and remind myself what I was fighting to get back to.

It worked.

Every step I took out of the house and into the snow, every lungful of this clean, Earthly air, every chirp of the snowbirds sitting in trees. Snowbirds.Snowdrop. That’s what mother used to call me. I had almost forgotten.How had I almost forgotten?

I shook my head and continued on over the snow. Our stone cottage sat inside of a perimeter made entirely of stone; a solid wall about waist height that marked the edges of this small property. I walked up to the iron gate that stood directly across from the front door to the cottage. It was shut, a solid lock keeping it firmly locked.

I let my fingertips glide over its black, metallic surface. I touched the stone, next, letting myself feel the coarse texture of the rocks, the snow. It was at that point I found a sigil carved into the stone. I had barely noticed it until now, but now that I had seen this one, I saw others. There were many of them, each sigil carved into the stone a few feet from the next.

Protection.

That’s what they were for.

Looking around, I couldn’t help but feel like I was standing in a snow globe. Protected, and safe, but not able to venture out into the wider world beyond the gate. I could see it from here. The trees, tall and snow-capped, the hills in the distance, each hiding the promise of an adventure. I was stuck here.

This place was a prison.

I sighed.

Turning around to go back inside, I found myself pausing mid-step. Valerian was there, standing by the door to the cottage, leaning against the frame. When he saw me, he made a gesture with his hand. “Please,” he said, “Don’t let me interrupt.”