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Before I realized what we were doing, he slid inside me, moving slowly, the water rippling at our sides, splashing over the sides in little drips and drops. I closed my eyes, thrilling to our slow rhythm and the comforting scents and the candlelight.
“This night was not meant to be for sex,” he whispered. “This was meant to give you a rest. But I need you now. I need to be inside you.”
“Sex is okay.” I kissed his nose. “Sex is good, and sometimes sex in the tub is the best.” I popped another bite of the cupcake into my mouth. Feeling almost giddy, I laughed. “And sex and chocolate are really good.”
“Give me a bite.” Grieve’s starlit eyes flashed and his teeth shimmered in the dim light. He was dangerous and fierce yet…yet…he was my Grieve.
“I thought you didn’t like sugar and fluff,” I teased him, holding the cupcake just out of his reach.
“The sweeter the bite, the more delicate the blood.” And then he snapped at my fingers, playfully nibbling on them, drawing the cake into his mouth. A crumb stuck to the corner of his mouth and I moved forward, my gaze never leaving his, and licked it off. As I leaned back, with him still filling me full, he moaned and shifted, moving inside me, thrusting deeply.
I gasped, pushing against him, my clit rubbing against the base of his cock. “Don’t stop. Just keep going forever.”
“Sugar and fluff have their place, but Cicely, for you, I would give you black raspberries and honey, and rich, warm roast beef cooked rare and juicy. I would serve you beet soup, and rich cream puddings…” He nuzzled my neck. “And dress you in a silken gown, to wear under the moon, with a circlet of silver for your hair.”
I began to cry, so aware of him, so aware of us. “Will we ever get out of this mess? Will we ever make it out of the dark and the snow?”
Grieve paused, gently kissing away my tears. “I believe we will. I have to believe it. But Cicely, wherever we are, as long as we’re together, we live in the heart of Summer, where I am the prince and you are my princess.”
“I don’t need to be a princess. I just want to be your wife.” I rested my head on his shoulder, and he slowly began to move inside me again. We moved leisurely, without hurry, our breaths rising and falling with the ripples in the bath. Without warning, our passion flared and Grieve stared deep into my eyes as I came, crying out as my world expanded. Then, a moment later, Grieve moaned, his jaw clenched as he rode the wave. After he finished, he rested his head on my breast, and we stayed locked together, in our own private world, until the water cooled.>An ivy vine wove its way across my left thigh. Dappled with silver roses, it crossed my lower abs, extending to my ribs under my left arm. Interspersed among the roses was a trail of violet skulls, and right at my naval, a grayish silver wolf stared out at the world, his eyes emerald and glowing.
After that, I would feel the wolf shift and growl when danger was present. At times, when I was lonely, I talked to the tattoo, and it felt like the wolf was actually listening. And then, when I returned home for a brief visit a few months after getting my wolf tattoo, Grieve had met me out in the woods, and I realized that instead of trusting him like I had when I was a child, my heart had shifted, and at seventeen, I had grown up and was falling in love with the Fae Prince.
The Golden Wood was in full glory, trees thick with leaves, and the brambles were growing full with hard little berries that would burst with their rich black juice in August. The woodland smelled of sunlight and dust and lazy afternoons, and my feet were silent against the path leading through the clustered undergrowth that lined both sides of the trail.
Rhiannon opted to stay back at the house—she’d become reclusive, and I knew something had happened but she wouldn’t talk about it. All Heather would tell me was that there’d been an accident a couple of years back and Rhiannon wasn’t the same girl she had been. I wanted to ask my cousin about it—we’d always told each other everything—but whatever had happened this time seemed sacrosanct.
So one afternoon, late into the week Krystal had allowed me to visit, I wandered out to the wood where Rhiannon and I’d played as children. As I set foot on the path, the glimmer of sunlight swept me into a world far from the dirty streets of San Francisco, of L.A., of whatever city through which Krystal and I were currently prowling. They were all just names by now—one blurred into the next, and the one we’d just left was as indistinct as the one we were heading toward.
I stretched my arms wide, inhaling deeply. I’d been home the year before—my first time since Krystal dragged me off—and I’d cried when I’d had to leave. Rhiannon had been silent then, too, but I’d thought that she was just sulking over some argument with her mother.
It was during that visit that Grieve stepped out from behind a tree and I remembered all those long days of childhood, when he and Chatter had taught us magic, never straying out of decorum, never being anything but a safety net for us as I learned to speak with the wind and Rhiannon learned to harness the flames.
Letting my mind step onto the slipstream, I blew a low whistle, and whispered, Grieve, are you here? I’m home again. Come to me!
And a few moments later, the Fae Prince stepped out from behind a tall cedar. He was dressed in camouflage cargo pants, with no shirt, but I knew that his clothes were illusion. His platinum hair streamed down his shoulders, and his eyes glittered blue against the olive skin of his body. He was built, lean and muscled, and so alien he was exotic. Yet…alien as he was, Grieve was familiar to me.
“Cicely…I’ve been waiting for you.” His voice was strained. He wouldn’t stop staring at me and I began to feel exposed, raw. And then I noticed a box in his hand, wrapped with a ribbon.
“What’s that?” I pointed to the box.
Grieve stared at it for another moment, then silently handed me the box.
I stared at it. “A present?”
He leaned against a nearby tree, sliding his hands into his pockets. “I found this…I would have given it to you last time, but I misplaced it. You left it when…”
I opened it, pulling on the silk ribbon. The box was shaped like a wooden heart and my pulse began to race as I flipped open the hinged lid. Inside was a sparkling pendant. It was small—child-sized. A crystal butterfly that my aunt had given me on my fifth birthday. It was the only pretty thing I’d ever owned as a child, and when I realized I’d lost it, I’d been heartbroken.
I caught my breath. “I lost this—the day that my mother took me away from here. I thought it had disappeared forever.”
“I found it after you left and kept it safe. I knew you’d come home someday. Last year, it was hidden among my things and I couldn’t find it in time before you left again. But when it surfaced, I put it where I could grab it any time you called to me. I know how much you loved that necklace when you were little. I just wanted you to have it again. To have something to hold on to from your childhood.”
As I cradled the pendant next to my heart, I realized that I was also holding my breath. And in the next moment, I heard myself thinking, I love him. I’m in love with Grieve.
My wolf stirred, and it felt as if it were stretching, luxuriously, enjoying the sun as much as I was.
Grieve glanced at my stomach—I was wearing a crop-top—and a slow smile stole across his face. “You’re wearing my symbol. Cicely, you’re all grown up now. Since last year, you’ve become a woman.” His voice played across my heart as surely as if his fingers had stolen across my skin.
