Page 22 of Blood & Roses

“So fidgety,” he laughed, stilling me with his hands and maneuvering my body. “Here.”

He tucked me into the crook of his shoulder, and I let my head drop to rest on him. I felt his warm breath on my ear and willed my heartbeat to slow.

“How’s that?” he asked, voice landing somewhere in my hair. “Have I scandalized you?”

“Not yet,” I said warily.

Rowan chuckled in response. “Feel free to stab me if you need to defend your honor.”

“Don’t make fun, or I will,” I said, feeling warmth settle into me as his arms came around my back. It was fairly chaste with the cloaks and blanket between us, but it was only the second time I’d let a male hold me, the first also being Rowan the night before.

I’d never stayed with a male long enough at night to be held, and none had ever offered.

This was nice.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Rowan joked, his warm breath caressing my forehead. “Go to sleep, Isolde.”

“Why do you always call me that?” I asked, voice quiet in the dark of the room.

Rowan huffed, his arms squeezing me just a bit tighter. I shifted to find the most comfortable spot to sleep. He had been right—it was so much warmer sharing body heat. I wanted to stay in his toasty warmth forever.

“Aside from the fact that it’s your name?” he teased. I attempted to elbow him and failed miserably, but he pretended to hiss in pain to humor me. “Because I like it.”

“Why?” I asked, feeling like snakes were writhing in my gut as I waited for the answer. An inexplicable heat had settled in my chest, and I was a little worried it might consume me from within if I gave voice to it.

Rowan was silent for a moment, and I thought he might have fallen asleep when he finally answered.

“Because it’s beautiful,” he said quietly, heart pounding just a bit louder in the darkness. “Just like you.”

Chapter 11

Iwoke to darkness and the prickling sense that we weren’t alone.

A hoot from the window nearly made me leap out of my skin, and I cursed as Rowan also startled and fell off the bed in a panic.

I had forgotten Owl had been tasked with following us. Somehow, he had opened the window, and freezing air was blasting in, chasing away the warmth of Rowan’s arms aroundme.

“What do you want, you feathery fiend?” I hissed, fumbling with the candle as Rowan cursed on the floor, trapped in his cloak.

Owl swiveled his head, pinning me with a wide, assessing gaze.

“Hoot,” he repeated, dropping a mouse on the windowsill and flapping away into the creeping dawn light.

“I will fucking kill that bird,” Rowan growled, throwing the cloak over his head and looking so murderous I had to cover my mouth to stifle a laugh.

“He means well, I think,” I said, yawning and shivering as I went to close the window. It was still the bruised, purple dark of pre-dawn. “We may as well get going.”

Rowan was still grumbling as we got ready, throwing on cloaks and securing weapons. We had both slept fully clothed, so there wasn’t much to do to get ready to go.

“Breakfast?” I offered, holding out a hard chunk of bread and an apple from the pack. “Not poison, I promise.”

Rowan took them with a begrudging laugh, his eyes meeting mine as he bit into the red fruit. “I see you survived the night next to me,” he said through a mouthful of apple. “Was it terrible?”

“Torture,” I replied, biting into my own apple. His eyes lingered on my lips as I licked the juice from them, and I felt an irrational thrill of victory run through me.

He reached a hand up and ran a thumb over my lower lip, catching a drop of juice I had missed. His throat bobbed with analmost audible swallow, and my mouth dried out a bit at his heated gaze.

Which was ridiculous. It was the crack of dawn, and I was wearing leathers and knives. Moreover, eating an apple was not a sexy activity.