I coax Zenevieve to lay back down. “Just keep still. I need to keep you warm.”
As we lay together on the blanket beneath my cloak, I’m suddenly aware that we’re both nearly naked. All I cared about was getting Zenevieve warmed up, and now I don’t know where to look.
Actually, my rut knows exactly where I want to look. My scent is so strong that even I can smell it.
Zenevieve’s cheek is cushioned on a fold of the blanket, and our bodies are very close together. She breathes in deeply and sighs in pleasure. “You smell wonderful. Now I know I’m dreaming. You’re in a rut, and you’re holding me close instead of pushing me away.”
I have no choice. We can’t go anywhere while this storm rages and Zenevieve and Minta are so weakened. I try not to notice that all Zenevieve is wearing is a breastband and drawers. I’m only in underbreeches, and our legs and feet are tangled together.
When I raise my eyes to her face, which is just inches from mine, she’s smiling at me. Our heads are resting on the same fold of blanket.
“I always dream that you’re my mate,” she whispers, her fingers playing across my jaw, my lips. “My favorite dream.”
Her words are torture and so is her touch. Every brush of her fingers sends sparks rushing through my blood.
I grasp her wrist. “Zen, please lie still. It’s dark outside and the storm will last many more hours yet.”
“Why should I lie still?”
“Because you must.” The sight of all her bare skin makes my dragines throb. The lacings on my underbreeches are pulled tight across my swollen knot.
“But why?” she whispers, drawing her thigh up over mine. She was knocking on death’s door just a few moments ago, a frozen block of ice, but now she’s wonderfully, deliciously warm and soft.
“I— Just because,” I falter, and swallow.
“Because your knot is swollen, and I’m moving against it?” she breathes, arching into me. Pushing her hips into mine.
I pant softly. Somehow, without knowing when, I buried my hand in her hair at the back of her neck. “Stop that.”
“You stop it,” she whispers because my fingers are massaging her nape.
But I can’t stop it. There’s a deep ache of need in my chest. “Gods, I’ve missed you.”
“You can have me back,” she whispers, tilting her lips up to mine, offering them to me for a kiss.
I stare at her lips with equal parts fear and longing.
“I’m not your ward anymore. I’m almost twenty-one. Would it be such a grave insult to my dead father if we kissed?”
“Zen, please don’t ask me that.”
“Don’t you sometimes want to put aside your duties and have some fun? I’ve learned one or two things about Alphas since I left home.” She slides her fingers through my hair and clenches them on the hair at the nape of my neck. I groan long and low aspleasure shoots through my mating gland, and I close my eyes and bury my face in her shoulder. That felt like heaven.
“You needed that.”
“I didn’t,” I retort, my arms tightening around her and my body shuddering against hers.
“Liar,” she whispers, laughing softly.
I raise my head and narrow my eyes at her. “How did you know I would like that? Have you been seeing that Alpha from the ruthouse?”
She smiles. “Who, Oren? That big, rutting, white-haired Alpha who so desired me to spend his rut with him?”
A great wave of jealousy slams into me. “Yes. Him.”
Zenevieve strokes her fingers down my chest, and I’m fascinated by the sight of her touching me. “I never went to bed with Oren. I was tempted, but do you know why?”
“Why?” I demand.
