I come to rest in a clearing where ancient stones mark a sacred grove, my breath misting in the cold air. The change usually brings me peace, a respite from the weight of kingship and the constant battle between my nature and my duty. But tonight, even in this form, I can find no solace.
Because even as a beast, I want her.
The sound of footsteps in the snow makes me raise my head, nostrils flaring to catch the scent on the wind. My heart stops when I recognize it—pine and coffee and something uniquely, impossibly hers.
Jessa.
She emerges from the treeline like a vision, wrapped in her heavy coat with snow caught in her dark hair. Her eyes find mine across the clearing, and I see the exact moment when she realizes what she’s looking at. Not the man who kissed her senseless this morning, but the beast he truly is beneath the civilized facade.
I brace myself for her scream, her flight, the inevitable rejection that will finally break what’s left of my heart. Instead, she takes a step forward.
“Aelin?” Her voice is soft, wondering, and there’s no fear in it. Only awe.
I should run. Should flee into the deeper woods where she can’t follow, where the sight of my true form can’t taint whatever feelings she might have harbored for the man I pretend to be. But I’m frozen, caught between the urge to hide and the desperate need to know how she’ll react.
She takes another step, then another, moving slowly but surely across the snow-covered ground. The moonlight turns her into something ethereal, a winter goddess approaching her chosen king. When she’s close enough to touch, she stops and kneels in the snow before me.
Kneels.
“You’re beautiful,” she whispers, and the reverence in her voice nearly brings me to my knees. “I knew you would be.”
She reaches out with one trembling hand, palm up in offering. I could bolt now, could disappear into the forest before she touches me and discovers the truth of what I am. Instead, I find myself lowering my great head, letting her fingers brush against the velvet between my antlers.
The contact sends lightning through my entire body. Her touch is warm and gentle, reverent in a way that makes something crack open in my chest. She strokes along the curve of my antlers with infinite care, mapping their shape like she’s memorizing every ridge and hollow.
“I’ve been dreaming about you,” she murmurs, her other hand coming up to rest against my neck. “Not just the man, but this. The real you.”
The real you.As if this form—this wild, primitive creature—is more authentic than the king who rules from a throne of ice. Perhaps she’s right. Perhaps this is who I’ve always been beneath the crown and the careful control.
“I’m not afraid,” she says, as if reading my thoughts. “I know I should be, but I’m not. You’re magnificent.”
Her hands slide down to frame my face, and I can see myself reflected in her eyes—not a monster, but something sacred. Something worthy of reverence instead of revulsion.
“Aelin,” she breathes, and leans forward to press her forehead against mine.
The bond roars to life between us, stronger than it’s ever been. I can feel her emotions as if they were my own—wonder, desire, alove so fierce it takes my breath away. She loves me. Not despite what I am, but because of it.
The realization breaks something in me that’s been locked away for centuries.
I shift back to humanoid form without conscious thought, the change rippling through me like water. One moment I’m the great reindeer king, the next I’m kneeling naked in the snow with her hands still cradling my face and her eyes wide with amazement.
Her gaze drops, taking in my bare chest, the powerful lines of my body revealed in the moonlight. I see her breath catch, see the way her pupils dilate as she drinks in the sight of me. There’s no shame in her expression, only hunger and wonder that makes my cock twitch despite the cold.
“Jessa,” I whisper, her name a prayer on my lips.
“God, you’re beautiful,” she breathes, her hands sliding down from my face to my shoulders, mapping the ridges of muscle with reverent touches. “So perfect.”
And then she’s kissing me.
This kiss is different from all the others—not desperate or demanding, but tender. Sacred. She kisses me like I’m something precious, something to be cherished rather than feared. Her lips are soft and warm against mine, and when she deepens the kiss I can taste her love, her acceptance, her absolute certainty that this is right.
I’m lost.
My arms come up to wrap around her, pulling her against me as I kiss her back with everything I have. The contrast of her warmbody against my cold skin makes me groan into her mouth, and she responds by pressing closer, her hands exploring the planes of my chest with growing boldness.
“You’re freezing,” she murmurs against my lips, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she opens her coat and pulls me against her, sharing her warmth. The feeling of her clothed body against my naked skin is exquisite torture.
“I don’t care,” I growl, my hands fisting in her hair as I claim her mouth again. “I need you to touch me. I need?—”
