LILIA
Our lips brushed.
I was kissing Hadrien. Agargoyle.
I wasn’t sure who’d closed that last breath of space between us—maybe both at the same time. All I cared about was that we’d finally bridged that space to touch. Yet, even on my tiptoes, I wasn’t close enough. I arched higher, holding on to his broad shoulders for support.
He tasted of the burgundy wine we’d shared at dinner. His scent stirred me—ancient, like the stones of the castle, and yet wildly masculine. It was intoxicating.
Hadrien kissed me slowly at first, but then he reached around and held the back of my neck in his large hand, tipping my head back, bringing me closer to him, and seizing control. Heat curled through me and pooled low in my belly.
I wanted more of him. So much more…
And that was the problem that woke me up.
What was I doing?
This was wrong.
Wasn’t it?
I pulled away, breaking our contact, yet remaining close enough that our breaths still mingled. He released my neck and I lowered myself to the soles of my feet. I struggled to regain my senses as I sought the reasons why kissing him was a bad idea.
Right. He’d forced me to stay here. He wasn’t just a vastly different species, but he was cursed and turned to stone at sunrise. Stone! Sweet goddess, he wasn’t even human. His size alone should intimidate me, not draw me closer like a tether.
And he was grumpy and gruff and controlling.
Yet, he could also be considerate and sweet…
No. Not helping.
Avoiding eye contact, I muttered, “That was probably a bad idea.”
A heartbeat. Then two, before he responded. “Right.”
“Just caught up in the heat of the moment,” I rationalized.
“Yes,” he agreed.
The silence stretched.
I cleared my throat. “Shall we—” I glanced at the boundary marker and along the imaginary boundary through the forest, aware of the sudden formality in my voice. “Should we continue?” I squeezed my eyes shut. He could interpret that as my invitation to resume the kiss—which wasn’t necessarily a terrible idea…
“With the ward,” I spat out louder than I intended to clarify my intention.
Hadrien remained quiet, during which time the tension grew. I wanted to shake an answer out of this unyielding stone.
“Channeling that kind of energy can take a toll.” His voice was low, revealing nothing. “No need to force it. We can continue tomorrow.”
“Right.” I straightened, then motioned with a halfhearted gesture toward the castle. “Perhaps we should head back then.”
He grunted, a sound I took as agreement, then headed toward the castle.
I walked beside him, the tension in the space between us pulsing with heat…and awareness. Why was I responding this way? I shouldn’t feel any sort of attraction to him. He had imprisoned me. He was cursed, enormous, a different species entirely, and gruff enough to make a thorny rose bush seem cuddly in comparison. I had every reason to feel nothing for him but wariness.
And yet…
The way he’d welcomed me into his library as if offering something precious to him. How he’d asked me to dinner with the careful cadence of someone who wasn’t sure he remembered how. He’d told me about his soldiers, even though I could see how it pained him. He watched over the garden from his perch and I’d gleefully waved at a statue, which was absurd, except that it felt natural.
