Who knew love could do this?
No. Not love. Never love. I won’t love Alder Hawke again. No matter how many times he kisses me like that.
Although…I wouldn’t mind him trying.
God, he’s hot.
I lean forward—just a little—because I want more. But the world lurches.
I blink.
Suddenly, I’m on my back.
How did that happen?
He’s saying my name. Repeating it. But he sounds far away. Like a voice echoing down a long tunnel. A train tunnel. Are we on a train? Is he a bandit?
Laughter bubbles up my throat.
He’s a bandit on a train, stealing off into the night. Stealing away with my heart.
Another hiccup of laughter, then everything goes dark.
Eleven
The sound of drapes being pulled open drags me back.Fabric rustles. Sunlight explodes into the room. I blink against the gold spilling across the walls.
Ow. My head.
I wince, pressing my fingers to the back of my skull. There’s a bump the size of a goose egg pulsing there like a neon sign:You fell. Hard.
The room around me is aggressively gorgeous. Sunlight filters through dew dappled windowpanes and pours across the intricate waves carved into the bedframe and inlaid with mother-of-pearl. A canopy hangs above, gauzy and sheer as a cloud.
Through the open balcony doors, jagged cliffs bite into the sea. Waves crash violently against them, and across the moody waters, I spot an island—mist-shrouded, wild, connected only by a crumbling stone bridge that screams death trap but in an Instagram-worthy kind of way.
Two maids bustle around the room, completelyunaware that I’m conscious. One lights a fire in the hearth, coaxing kindling into a crackling flame. The other flits past a line of delicate glass decanters with her feather duster, their contents glowing in strange shades of green and cobalt blue.
I shift, the silk blankets tangling at my feet as I take in the room.
A chaise lounge sits in the corner, its velvet upholstery dyed the color of midnight seas, the fabric plush enough to drown in. The faint scent of the ocean and pine needles wafts in, mingling with the floral sweetness that lingers in the air and something else—something warm and mouthwatering.
My gaze shifts, and my stomach growls at the decadent tray perched on a silver pedestal. Delicate pastries, their golden crusts glistening with sugar crystals, are arranged alongside slices of fresh fruit. Crispy bacon curls beside a bowl of yogurt crowned with flower petals and nuts, and a steaming pot of tea sits beside a crystal carafe of wine.
My fingers graze the edge of the silk sheets before finding the rough crustiness of my dress. It’s still on me. Stiff with dried blood. Crumpled. Filthy.
I slept in this?The thought alone makes my stomach twist.
And then another thought—a hotter, more intrusive one—flares to life.Alder should have undressed me.
Actually, no. I want to be awake for that.
My cheeks flush as memories crowd in. The way Alder looked at me, how his voice softened when he spoke my name, the way his touch steadied me, soothed me, made me feel like I was worth holding together. The kiss—God, that kiss. And then…fade to black.Literally.
Where is he, anyway?
I kick off the blankets and slide to the edge of the bed. My bare feet hit the cold floor, and I rise with a grimace, still tender all over. I need a shower. And caffeine. And maybe a different life.
“Excuse me,” I begin, voice sleep roughened.
