Music from the orchestra drifts out of the ballroom as I
hastily fasten my coat. Wine dances on my tongue, and a giggle escapes my lips as I look back at the man behind me. His light hair is disheveled, his tunic
askew, but he watches me with a hunger in his hazel gaze that makes me feel like a woman rather than a sheltered princess of barely eighteen.
“Come on!” I urge with a laugh, reaching out to pull him with
me.
He takes my hand and lets me drag him outside. Snow crunches
beneath our shoes, but my laughter will not be heard thanks to the party noises still drifting from inside.
I do not know the man’s name, but to be honest, I don’t really care. He’s a distraction. A way to get my mind off of the destiny that is now hurtling my way at lightning speed.
We reach the edge of the frozen lake as it glistens beneath the bright moonlight. Overhead, an owl hoots, and somewhere in the distance, a wolf howls. It’s home. A beautiful, perpetual winter paradise.
The man spins me and slams my back into a large tree as his
hands go to my waist, his mouth on mine. The kiss is fast, hard, but lacking any real passion—at least on my end. Though the wine making me dizzy helps me
pretend that there is.
I wrap both arms around his neck and let him bury his face against my pulse. His tongue grazes over my throat, and I let out a soft groan even though I feel nothing.
Sheltered.
Spoiled.
That’s what they all think of me. I’m the youngest royal child and the only girl, which means eventually, my family will marry me off. Likely to the future king of Soreno, if I had to guess. Which, essentially, means my path has already been chosen.
My life laid out for me.
So, that in mind, I’m determined to live as much as I can before the doors are shuttered permanently against any actual adventures. I
will be a wife. A mother. A queen. And passionate kisses outside of a party will be nonexistent.
“We should go somewhere more private,” he urges as he slips
his hands beneath my jacket and grazes the tips of his fingers over the open back of my dress.
“This is just fine,” I say with a laugh as I try to redirect him to my mouth. I grab his hands and pull them back to my waist, but he forces them up again.
“No. It’s not. Come on, I know a place.” He starts to pull me away, and the first shred of fear ices through the wine buzzing in my veins.
“I’m not leaving,” I reply with a forced smile. “This is my party after all.”
His eyes harden. “A party you were quick to leave, princess.
Come on—” He starts to tug me again, so I try to pull him back in. I press a quick kiss to his lips in an attempt to cool the situation, despite the heaviness in my chest.
My gaze darts back to the castle. “Actually, I’m quite cold now. Maybe we should—”
A low growl emits from just behind him, and my gaze widens fearfully when I note the massive wall of angry man stalking from between the trees. Fort.
He wears a black coat the same shade as his obsidian hair along with dark riding pants. His leather boots move near soundlessly in the snow, making him appear more like a living shadow than a living, breathing man.
But it’s not the sight of him moving from the trees and
across the snow, his large hand wrapped around the hilt of his blade, that has my heart pumping faster. It’s the fact that his amber gaze is murderous—and trained directly on the stranger.
“Fuck off, asshole,” the stranger orders. “We’re—”
I don’t even have time to tell him just how stupid it is to taunt the head of our guard before Fort reaches forward and grabs him by the back of his coat. He flings him off of me and to the snow before whirling on me.
His gaze travels down to my lips, then my throat, and the
swell of my breasts, exposed, thanks to my partially open coat. Nostrils flaring, his eyes find mine again, and a muscle in his jaw tightens.
“We were just having fun,” I insist. “The party was—"
“Yeah! Just fun.” The man scrambles to his feet and tries to
run.
I could have told him it was useless, but I don’t even get the chance to. Fort rips out a short blade and flings it, sending it soaring end over end until the hilt slams into the man’s back. He falls to the snow—silent.
“Did you kill him? What the hell, Fort!” I try to rush forward to make sure I didn’t get the asshole killed, but Fort’s hand tightens around my jacketed arm. Heat burns through the contact even as I cannot directly feel his hand on my flesh.
Every inch of my body reacts to him, a pull I’ve only ever read about until this moment. Cheeks flushing with more than the wine I
indulged in earlier, I feel every bit a woman now, pinned beneath the gaze of a man who has always seemed larger than life to me.
My gaze travels over Fort’s sharp jaw and locks with his amber gaze. And when I let myself sink into it, I’m momentarily frozen by the carnal ferocity reflected in his eyes. I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. What does one say in a moment like this? When the entire world has
tilted on its axis? When everything suddenly becomes so clear and incredibly complicated, all at the same time?
Fort leans in closer, the stubble of his jaw scraping deliciously against my cheek as he inhales deeply. When he pulls away, he lets out a low growl that is more animal than man before he releases me. Then, he turns and stalks away, stopping to sheathe both his sword and the blade he
threw before lifting the now groaning party guest from the snow.
Even though Fort cannot speak—he’s never uttered even a single word—I can feel his anger.
And in my wine-induced haze, I cannot help but wonder if perhaps that emotion stems from something far more than his sworn duty to protect me.
