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“Well, it’s the only one you get until Philippa”—he points at the traitor, as if I don’t already know her name—“cleans up the guest hut.”
“Oh, my king,” the traitor lady says, sounding as if she’s admiring something. I don’t want to see what’s on the right and around the corner for fear I’d love it more than the cabin itself.Oh, come on, Marybell, get it together.I grew up in a palace with opulence around every corner. What can a cabin at the top of the mountain (maybe even the world, as this could be the highest point in the world) have that a Kilseleian palace didn’t have? Nothing. That’s what.
I round the corner and stop dead in my tracks.
This part of the floor holds nothing but an unlit fireplace, a rug, and a basket-shaped sofa that hangs from the ceiling. The sofa is facing a private lake seen in its unobstructed entirety through a wall made entirely of thick glass instead of logs.
“Shit,” I say.
Behind me, the Alpha chuckles again.
“May I?” The traitor points at the sofa, her eyes pleading.
“No,” I say at the same time the male says, “Yes.”
She sticks her tongue out at me, and I show her my middle finger, then turn away to go sit on the leather couch before the fireplace. I sink into it and groan. Not only is it comfortable enough to sleep while sitting up, it smells amazing. It smells homey and wonderfully warm, and I inhale a lungful.
“What is that smell?” I pick up the blanket. I bring it to my nose and inhale another lungful. “Yummy.” Closing my eyes, I keep sniffing the blanket, rubbing it on my cheek. It’s so soft and nice.
When I open my eyes, the Alpha is sitting on the small table in front of me, blocking the view of the fireplace, his gray eyes lit with the magic of his wolf. I realize a bit too late that the smell is the scent of his wolf and that now he might think it turns me on. Does not. Most definitely not.
“Smells like candy is all,” I say.
The male leans in, eyes bright and features hard with his jaw rising, teeth becoming larger. I’m not afraid of a lycan in his werewolf form. I got used to it. I’m only afraid that I might be aroused by this one.
“That’s because the scent of an alpha maleiscandy for a lycan breeder.”
The door closes softly, the traitor now gone, and I find myself in an awkward situation where I actually want her back and near me so I don’t accidentally trip over the barriers in my brain and kiss this arrogant male.
“I’m not a breeder. And even if I were, you’re the last male I would breed with.”
“Is that so?” He leans forward more, pulling in my body like a magnet. Just when I think he might kiss me, he brushes his cheek with mine and whispers. “Not yet.”
I scoff and lean back, furious and embarrassed. “Jerk.”
He laughs, magic twinkling in his eyes.
I throw a pillow at his head.
He catches it and keeps it, fluffing it as he sits there for a bit before tossing it back into the corner of the couch. “You will sleep here by the fireplace. The couch is large and comfortable, and I’ll have Philippa bring you blankets.”
“And where will you sleep?”
He points toward the loft over the kitchen on my left.
“I don’t see any stairs,” I mumble more to myself than him.
“That’s because I don’t need them.”
Right. A lycan male can scale a mountain a hundred times faster than a Kilseleian male. What’s a small leap up to the loft for him? Lycans are incredibly strong, their bodies made for physical battle. Also stamina, as my princess would say.
The thought of milady makes me sad, and I look toward the lake outside. Night is falling, the moon already visible above the trees. I slept all span long, having spent the night before in the stables comforting milady’s mare.
“At least the foal is healthy and the mare is well.”
“Your princess will be well too,” he says as if reading my thoughts.
“I’m sure she will. ” Gloriana is a survivor. But who am I if not her lady-in-waiting? “It’s just that she would be better with me there. We haven’t been parted often. We’re almost like sisters, you know.”
